"The Guildsmen"

STAR TREK: The Next Generation

A Novel
By
Kenneth Glenn Simmons

Copyright 1997 Kenneth Glenn Simmons
(All Rights Reserved)

CHAPTER ONE

Dragons, with fire breath, .
Swept away, 
Passing silently, into oblivion

-Anonymous, circa 2018, Old Earth Date.

A soft chirp from the Tactical Station, located aft of the command arc on the bridge of the Enterprise, alerted it's Captain, Jean-Luc Picard, to a potential problem.  He felt the familiar  and not entirely unpleasant, rush of adrenaline which always accompanied a break in the normal routine of the vessel he commanded.  Picard did not allow anything he might be feeling to detract from the icy calm authority he projected while on the bridge, however.  
And if Ship's Counselor Deanna Troi, seated immediately to the Captain's left, noticed his momentary lapse, she gave no outward indication of it.

"Captain, ship's sensors have detected a disturbance in the Neutral Zone."

"What type of disturbance, Mr. Worf," this from the Enterprise's First Officer, Commander William Riker.

"Unclear at this time, Commander," Worf growled in reply, obviously displeased that he could not offer a better response.

Riker looked toward the Captain and, taking Picard's brief nod as an order, issued instructions to the Conn.  "Ensign, plot an intercept course to the Federation Boundary, opposite the co-ordinates where the disturbance was detected, warp factor eight!"  He then turned his attention to the officer occupying the Ops position.  "Mr. Data, continuous long-range sensor sweep.  If there's a Romulan patrol out there, we want to see them before they see us."

Data cocked his head to the side, in apparent puzzlement.  "Commander, it is highly unlikely that we would be able to 'see' such a patrol, as standard Romulan doctrine requires that their vessels remain cloaked when approaching the Neutral Zone."

Riker and Picard both smiled.  "A figure of speech, Mr. Data," the Captain said quietly.

"Ah!" the android replied, and turned his attention back to the task of monitoring the ship's long-range sensor array.

Data is becoming positively circumspect, Picard thought, appreciating his Second Officer's restraint. It was not so very long ago that he would have felt compelled to launch into an exhausting comparison of similar figures of speech, much to the frustration of his Captain!

Taking a last look around the bridge, and satisfied that there was little more for him to do until they made the intercept, Picard rose from his chair.  "You have the bridge, Number One," and with that final order, he walked over to the door of his ready room, and disappeared inside.

****

Picard sat in front of the computer terminal in the ready room, reviewing Starfleet communications and sensor data from this sector of the Romulan Neutral Zone.  As far as he could determine, there was no clue to be found in any of these reports, as to what could have caused a disturbance of such magnitude that the Enterprise's sensors could detect it at such an extreme range.  The fact that it was Lieutenant Worf's tactical array that had brought it to their attention would seem to indicate that it was the type of disturbance the Enterprise's computers considered a possible threat.  That usually indicated the presence of high-density ion trails associated with a space vessel, but as Picard knew only too well from long experience, it was best not to jump to too many premature conclusions.

He decided that he would let Data review the files, perhaps the android could see a pattern that was not readily apparent to him.  What an asset Data has been over the years, Picard mused, remembering how he had at first balked at the idea of having a machine as Second Officer on the Enterprise. But Data was much more than a machine he now knew for certain, having seen first hand how, in some respects, Data was more human than some people he had met who professed to being a member of that species.

I wonder if Starfleet Command will ever consider him for a Captaincy.  He certainly proved he could do the job, when he took command of the Sutherland, during the Klingon civil war.  Data's quick thinking, and liberal interpretation of orders, prevented the Romulan resupply of the Durrass faction, and ensured that Gowron, the present leader of the High Council, emerged from the conflict victorious. In the process, ensuring that the alliance between the Kungon Empire and the Federation was maintained.

Picard sighed.  The likelyhood of Data overcoming the prejudiced attitude that was still held by some members of Starf leet, who refused to believe that Data was in fact a unique life-form, rather than just a sophisticated combination of circuits, was remote.  In moments of introspection such as this, Picard was forced to admit to himself that he greatly feared what the future would hold for the Enterprise's, very special, Second Officer. It was only a matter of time until Bruce Maddox, or some other officer, attempted to prove again that Lieutenant Commander Data was a piece of property, that Starfleet Command could dispose of at it's whim.  How sad, thought Picard, that the Federation could have come so far in technological terms, and yet still harbour such primitive attitudes.  Data's creator, Dr. Noonian Soong, had forever blurred the line between man and machine.  Unfortunately, it was Data himself, who would be forced to fight a continual battle to be recognized as an independent, sentient being, who was guaranteed equal rights under Federation Law.  In his more depressed moments, Picard doubted that even Data, with all his unique abilities, would be equal to the task. Commander Riker's voice over the comm line, interrupting Picard's thoughts, was a welcome intrusion.

"Captain, we are coming into visual range of the disturbance in the Neutral Zone."

"Understood, Number One.  On my way!"

****

Picard strode onto the bridge, taking his place in the Command Chair that Riker had just vacated. "On screen, Mr. Worf.  Let's see what we've gotten ourselves into."

"Aye, Captain.  Visual coming in now," the Klingon officer acknowledged.  All eyes on the bridge swung towards the main viewscreen.

Picard pursed his lips in concentration.  "Magnify!" The terse command was obeyed instantly.

The scene displayed on the viewscreen  was at first met by stunned silence on the part of the senior bridge crew.  Lieutenant Worf was the first to speak.  "Sensors indicate no life-signs present, Captain!"

"Continue scanning, Mr. Worf."  Picard rose from his chair and moved closer to the main viewer, as if that alone could give him some idea of what had happened to the two shattered Romulan cruisers, hanging nose to nose, a thousand kilometers from the Enterprise!

Riker was the next to respond, anticipating Picard's orders.  "Red alert, Lieutenant!  Arm phasers and photon torpedoes!"

"Aye, Commander!"

"Mr. Data?" Picard asked quietly.  "Are your sensors giving any indication of what happened to those two vessels?"

"Negative, Captain.  Both ships have severe molecular scarring, but it does not appear to be
consistent with what one would expect from conventional phaser or disruptor fire.  I am attempting to access the Romulan command logs, but it may be some time before those records can be downloaded into the Enterprise' s computer."

Picard nodded in acknowledgment.  "Very well, carry on then.  Mr. Worf," he said, turning back to the Tactical Station, "Maintain red alert, and open a Captain's Priority Channel to Starfleet Command."  Picard and Riker shared a grim look. "Commander Riker, my ready room.  Data, you have the bridge!"

As Riker and the Captain exited the bridge, Data took the Command Chair, bringing the auxiliary Ops console on line to continue his efforts to download the Romulan logs.

****

"Sit down, Will," Picard said softly, as the door to the ready room slid closed behind them. He then took his own chair on the other side of the desk.  "Recommendations?"

Riker paused thoughtfully before responding. "I think we may have a serious problem, Captain," he began, "If a Romulan patrol should come across us, given the circumstances, they might jump to exactly the wrong conclusions!"

Picard nodded in the affirmative.  "Agreed! My instinct tells me that the prudent course would be to withdraw, at least until we have some firm indication as to what the hell happened here!"

Their discussion was momentarily interrupted by Worf informing the Captain that his priority channel to Starfleet Command was now available. Riker got up to leave, but Picard waved him back to his seat.  "Stay Will, from this point onward it's important for you to be fully briefed." Picard then turned his attention to the computer terminal on his desk, activating the monitor, which displayed the Starf leet Command graphic for a few seconds, before requesting voice print identification.

"Picard, Jean-Luc, Captain, USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D."

"Identity confirmed," the computer replied.  "Captain's Priority Communications Channel is now open."

The Starf leet Command graphic then dissolved into the stern countenance of Admiral Clark Turner, Starfleet's Chief of Operations.

"Jean-Luc," Turner greeted him, his manner curt.

"I assume you've run into a problem.  Not with the Enterprise, I trust?"

"The Enterprise is performing exceptionallywell, Admiral," Picard replied.  "I am afraid our problem has to do with the discovery of two Romulan cruisers, adrift in the Neutral Zone.  Both vessels have sustained very severe damage, possibly as the result of a battle of some kind.  One of my officers is now trying to access the Romulan logs to find out what happened to them, but we are feeling somewhat exposed.  If the Romulans should arrive in force, they may assume that it was the Enterprise that attacked their vessels."

"I see," Turner responded ambiguously.  "I take it you have not crossed the Neutral Zone boundary. How close to our side of the line are they?"

"We are maintaining station within Federation space," Picard assured him.  "The Romulan ships are at a range of one thousand kilometers, and are drifting slowly toward the Federation boundary."

"And what exactly is it you are proposing, Captain?" Turner asked.

"Once the Romulan logs have been downloaded into our computer,  I believe that the Enterprise should withdraw deeper into Federation territory. This will give us time to develop a rational hypothesis as to what has happened to the Romulan vessels. At that point, we will have something to say to the representatives of the Romulan Empire when the finally do come across us, as they undoubtedly will, sooner or later."

Admiral Turner was seen to consider Picard's statement for a moment.  "There is another dimension to this situation, Jean-Luc," he finally replied. "We have been presented with a unique opportunity to study Romulan technology.  An opportunity which may never present itself again.  I'm not sure Starfleetcan afford to let the potential benefits of such a
situation remain unexplored."

The Admiral's comment hung between them, causing Picard and Riker to exchange a look which spoke volumes about what they thought of Turner's suggestion.

Turner continued before either of them could respond.  "The Excaitbur is within six hours of your position, the Hood can rendezvous in twenty-six hours.  I agree with your premise that the Enterprise is in an exposed position, and a tactical withdrawal is prudent, but it is essential that you are able to maintain sensor contact with those two Romulan ships!  Therefore, you are instructed to limit your withdrawal to five thousand kilometers. Once Excalibur and Hood have made the rendezvous, you are to form a Task Force, built around the Enterprise, and proceed with salvage operations. You will, of course, be in overall command, Jean-Luc," he added.

Picard allowed himself one deep breath, before coldly stating his objections.  "Admiral, I must protest this action in the strongest possible terms! If the Romulans find three Federation starships swarming around two of their own vessels, inside the Neutral Zone, they will consider it an extreme provocation!"

"Captain, the Romulan ships are within one thousand kilometers of Federation territory, on the Federation side of the Neutral Zone!  Clearly, they have no business being there!  Federation rights of salvage apply, and will be recognized, in this situation!"

Picard tried one more time to dissuade him. "I hardly think that a Romulan Commander is going to bother taking the time to study the nuances of Federation Law, pertaining to the salvage of derelict vessels, Admiral!"

"You have your orders, Picard!" Turner replied, his voice brittle.  "Carry them out!'  The screen abruptly went black as the connection was broken.

Picard snapped off his own terminal with a flick of his wrist.  "Merde!"

****

Data was becoming increasingly fascinated with what he was learning about Romulan computer architecture. Unfortunately, he was not having much success in gaining access to the files containing the ship's log entries.  The Romulans seemed to favour a file format which automatically destroyed records, if the person attempting access did not have the properly coded authority, and so far, both Engineering and Command files were being denied to him.  No records had yet been lost, but he knew that the probability of this occurring was growing exponentially.  His efforts were interrupted by Captain Picard and Commander Riker's return to the bridge.

Picard did not waste any words on pleasantries.  "What progress have you made, Data?" he asked peremptorily.

"The Romulan records are loaded into their computer utilizing a very complex methodology, Captain.  In addition, there is the problem of the Romulan language itself.  Although the Enterprise's computer is able to process this language, through the universal translator, the records are in a compressed file format which use a key word or number to decompress the file for retrieval, as well as a security access code for the Engineering and Command functions.  Our computer is having difficulty breaking through these inter-locking layers of language syntax, without destroying the records we are trying to retrieve."

"I see," Picard replied.  "We are going to pull back five thousand kilometers.  Will you be able to continue your efforts from that distance?"

"Yes, Captain," Data replied.  "May I inquire as to the reason for this withdrawal?"

Picard nodded in the affirmative.  "We have been ordered to attempt a salvage of the Romulan ships, but before we embark on that mission, we we will be rendezvousing with the starships Excalibur and Hood.  They are to provide a perimeter security force during the mission.  Excalibur is due in six hours, with the Hood to follow sometime tomorrow. You have until then, Data, to unravel the mysteries of Romulan computer technology."

"I will do my best, Sir."

Picard smiled.  "Yes, Data.  I'm sure you will."

"Captain, perhaps we should stand down from red alert," Riker suggested.  "We can maintain full shields at yellow alert."

"I agree, Captain," Counselor Troi interjected. "The tension level on the ship is very high," she pointed out.

"That is to be expected, Counselor, but I will agree to downgrade the alert status, pending the arrival of Excalibur.  Make it so, Mr. Worf!"  The alert strip ringing the bridge changed from red to yellow, as Lieutenant Worf complied with Picard's order.

****

"I don't understand it, Data!  These Romulan files should dump right into our memory banks without any problem.  In the past, we've accessed all kinds of alien records.  The computer should be able to download the files, regardless of the format, and then decode them once they're in our own system!"

"I agree, Geordi.  It is a perplexing problem."

"It's almost as if the Engineering and Command control files don't exist, but we know that you can't fly a vessel that complex without them!" Geordi fumed.

"Perhaps you have hit upon the answer, Geordi," Data suggested.  "It is possible that the files no longer exist."

Data called up the graphic of the two Romulan cruisers on his terminal, and then overlaid a schematic of the computer retrieval system.  The computer system schematic was interrupted in several areas by severe damage.

Geordi, looking over Data's shoulder at the computer screen, exclaimed, "That's it, Data! The liquid memory cells have been ruptured!  No wonder you couldn't access the ship's log."

"This will greatly complicate our salvage mission. Captain Picard will not be pleased."

"More importantly, Data, if the Romulan computers can't be brought back on line, is there anything worth salvaging?"

"Also, we still have no idea what actually happened to the Romulan vessels.  Captain Picard considers that information to be a crucial element in any analysis of Romulan intentions", Data added.

Geordi frowned.  "What do we know about the weapons used against the Romulan cruisers, Data?  Considering the position we found them in, maybe they fought each other."

Data pondered this for a moment.  "Computer, request comparative analysis of damage sustained by Romulan vessels to known weapons systems."

The computer responded almost immediately.  "Damage is inconsistent with all weapons systems presently in use by Federation, Klingon, or Romulan vessels."

Geordi shook his head in confusion.  "Computer, extrapolate.  What type of weapons system was used against the Rornulan vessels, and where is such a system presently in use?"

"Working... damage sustained by Romulan cruisers is consistent with high-density, charged photon, particle beam weapons.  That system is not presently in use anywhere in the explored portion of this galaxy."

"Jt looks like we've come to a dead end, Data."

"Not necessarily, Geordi.  Computer, where has such a weapons system been used in the past?"

"Working... subjective data inconclusive." 

"What does that mean?" Geordi wondered aloud.

"List all pertinent information available on said weapons systems."  Data ordered

The computer screen quickly filled with written words and graphic analysis, scrolling at the speed with which Data usually absorbed information, much faster than Geordi or any human could follow.

"Fascinating!" Data said softly to himself.

"What is it, Data?", Geordi demanded.

Data waited until the last screen of information scrolled by,before replying.  "It would seem, Geordi, that the only place in the known galaxy where this type of weapon has ever been used, is Earth!"

****

The door of the Captain's ready room chimed softly, indicating that someone was seeking entry.  "Come!", Picard called out.

The door slid open to admit Commander Riker, Lieutenant Commander Data, and Chief Engineer Geordi Laforge. Riker came right to the point.  "Captain, we may have an even bigger problem than we first suspected."

Picard  leaned back in his chair and asked, "How so, Number One?"

Riker turned to the android. "Data?"

"Captain, Geordi and I have determined that the computer records of the Romulan vessels are beyond recovery   There is simply too much damage to the areas of the ships where the core memory cells are located.  As a consequence, all engineering and command control functions will be unavailable to us during our salvage mission."

Picard stroked his chin thoughtfully.  "I see. Is the anti-matter containment field of the Romulan vessels intact?"

"No, Sir", Geordi answered.  "We assume that the Romulans initiated an anti-matter jettison sequence prior to losing their containment field, otherwise there would be nothing left of them."

"A tricky operation at the best of times, Mr. Laforge!"

"Yes, Sir!

"It is also possible that their attackers, whoever they were, could have been destroyed before they were forced to jettison any anti-matter", Picard theorized.

"That hypothesis is highly unlikely, Captain", Data said. "An analysis of the damage inflicted on the Romulan vessels indicates that their primary hull was ruptured fatally after the loss of computer control.  They would need to have their engineering control program functional to complete an anti-matter jettison sequence."

Picard nodded in agreement.  "Of course, Data. That would seem to be a reasonable assumption."

"Data and Geordi have found something else as well, Captain", Riker said.

"Yes", Data continued.  "The type of weapons system used in the attack on the Romulan cruisers has been identified by our computer, as a high-density, charged photon, particle beam.  This weapon has only been used, successfully, once before in recorded history."

Picard waited expectantly for a few seconds. "Well! Please don't keep us in suspense, Mr. Data!"

Data looked slightly embarrassed by the Captain's sharp words.  "Yes, Sir."  He turned to the Captain's computer terminal and called up the appropriate file.

"The high-density, charged photon, particle beam weapon, is considered to be extremely unstable. This is primarily due to the difficulties associated with isolating the photon accelerator from the vessel in which it is mounted.  Also, there are problems in preventing catastrophic frequency feedback, which usually results in the destruction of the weapon itself."

"Go on, Data", Picard said quietly.

Data changed the display on the terminal.  It now showed the wreckage of a twenty-first century spacecraft, the vessels name prominently displayed on the remains of what appeared to be a vertical stabilizer.  The name was Enterprise.

Picard and his First Officer exchanged a pained look.

"The spacecraft displayed in this graphic is the USS Enterprise, an American long-range shuttle, used to ferry persons and materials to the first lunar colonies.  The year is 2017.

"Three years previous to the incident portrayed here", Data continued, "a private corporation called the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild was formed. The company was registered simultaneously in the United States of America, Canada, the European Economic Union, and Japan.  The stated objectives of the corporation were to peacefully explore the Sol system for exploitable resources."

"The Guild unveiled a radical new spacecraft, which was able to perform seemingly miraculous high-speed maneuvers in atmosphere, and achieved extra-orbital velocities which approached the speed of light.

The governments of the time were extremely suspicious of the Guild's real intentions, and a series of legal challenges to a private corporations right to possess such technology were launched.  Citing reasons of
international security, the United Nations Security Council attempted a world-wide seizure of Guild assets in the year
2016."
"Excuse me, Data", Picard interrupted.  "Was this seizure accomplished with the use of military power?"                  

"Yes, Captain.  However, the attempt was a failure."

"A failure, Data?" Riker asked.

"Yes, Commander", Data replied.  "The Guild managed to evacuate all personnel and records, including scientific and engineering studies, only hours before the United Nations military forces arrived at their facilities."

"Where did they go, Data?, Geordi asked.

"That information is not available in Enterprise records, Geordi.  Following the failed attempt to seize Guild technology by force, the United Nations Security Council passed Resolution 1446 which officially declared that the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild was an international criminal organization."

"Unbelievable!"  Geordi exclaimed.

"Knowing the history of that era, Mr. Laforge, it is all too believable!"  Picard sighed   "If not for the stupidity of a few individuals, man might have made the major discoveries which ultimately led us to the stars more than fifty years before they actually occurred.  How sad!"

"May I continue, Captain?"

"Yes, Data.  Please do."

"On July 27, 2017, the long-range shuttle Enterprise was in transit between Earth and the lunar colony Alpha One, when it discovered one of the Guild's spacecraft, apparently adrift.  The American shuttle attempted to close with the disabled craft to  attach a grappling mechanism.  When the Enterprise approached to within five-hundred meters, the Guild vessel opened fire."

Data paused to call up a split-screen comparative analysis graphic on the computer terminal.  "As can be seen by this graphic, the residual effects of the attack on the shuttle Enterprise, in terms of molecular distortion of the damaged surfaces, is virtually identical to that suffered by the two Romulan cruisers in the Neutral Zone."

"And the computer has positively identified these effects as resulting from a high-density, charged photon, particle beam", concluded Riker.

"No, Commander.  The computer felt the information was subjective ,and therefore inconclusive,, for the shuttle."

"None-the-less, Data, you believe this to be the case", Picard said.

"Yes, Captain."

"Very well.  Mr. Data, I want you to review all Starf leet communications and sensor readings from this sector, over the past several weeks, and also pull all the information you can on the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild from Starfleet's main computer. Look for any anomalies that might explain Admiral Turner's throwing caution to the winds in order to salvage these two Romulan ships.  We'll have a full staff meeting in one hour, Briefing Room One."  Data and Geordi both nodded and left the ready room.

Picard then turned to Riker.  "How far away is Excalibur?"

"They should be about two hours out."

"Do you know the Captain of the Excalibur, Number One?"

"Only by reputation." Riker smiled.

"Which is?"

"She's young, ambitious, and so I'm told, strikingly beautiful!"

It was the Captain's turn to smile.  "Let's hope that won't be too much of a problem for you, Commander."

"I think I'll be able to handle it, Captain."

"I hope so, Will.  I also hope that if our Romulan friends put in an appearance, the recently promoted
Captain Christina Wilson, will not prove to be a liability we can ill afford."

Riker's surprise showed.  "It sounds as if you know something about Captain Wilson that the rest of us haven't heard?"

"Perhaps I do, Number One", Picard said rather cryptically   "Senior Captains possess some very interesting sources of information."

Changing the subject, Picard asked, "What do you think of Data's briefing on this Inter-Planetary Guild business?"

"Interesting, but I'm not sure what relevance it has to our situation.  In my opinion, it's highly unlikely that the two incidents are related."

"Unlikely, but not impossible, Commander."

****

Counselor Troi was feeling unusually troubled. She occasionally reacted to the continual emotional bombardment she was subjected to as the only Betazoid member of the Enterprise crew  but this was something entirely different.  It was a dream that was bothering her.  A dream she couldn't remember the details of when she woke up.

The tension on the ship must be affecting me more than I imagined, she thought.  Almost unconsciously, she searched the ship for that special presence named William Riker.  It was a kind of ritual to her, and her day would not have been complete without that intimate first touch, mind to mind.  "Imzadi".

He was sleeping, catching one of his famous 'power naps'.  Will knew that on a ship in a potential combat situation a good officer caught what sleep he could when he could, she thought.  That caused her to smile gently, in rememberance of a time when she and Will were more than just senior officers assigned to the same vessel.  They were more than that now, she knew, but it was very complicated.  Unnecessarily so, in her opinion.  Why Will Riker could not take what she offered had caused her much grief overthe years they had known each other, but lately they had developed a kind of comfortable understanding of one another.  It was not what either of them really wanted, but for each of them, it was better than the complete separation that they knew was the only other alternative.

Imzadi... she once tried to explain to him what that word really meant, but without the free flow of thought that could occur between two Betazoids, she had only been able to give him a kind of definition rather than the full emotional flavour that the word had for her.  Even the rudimentary definition had scared him so badly that he left her on the Yorktown without saying goodbye.  At those times when she was completely honest with herself, she admitted that his abandonment of her still hurt.

Deanna's thoughts turned back to her dream. She had the feeling that there was a man involved in it, but she could not recollect who it was, or even if she knew h~in.  Strange, she thought, I can always recall a dream.  Why can't I remember this one?  The shrill sound of her combadge interupted her musing.

Deanna tapped her combadge, opening the two-way communications channel.  "Yes."

"Counselor", it was Captain Picard speaking. "Your presence is required in Briefing Room One for a staff meeting."

"I'll be right there, Captain", she acknowledged.

"Very well.  Picard out.

As Deanna walked into the passageway on her way to the briefing room, she was aware on some subconscious level, that Will Piker was now awake.

****

Captain Picard called the meeting to order as soon as all the senior staff were present.  Deanna wasn't surprised by the fact that Commander Riker was the last to arrive.  The Captain was in his command mode, Deanna noted, and was completely unreadable to her.  The Counselor knew that this was not necessarily a good sign.

"All right, Mr. Data, let's begin", the Captain ordered.

"As per your orders, Captain, I have completed a review of all Starfleet communications and sensor readings from this sector of the Neutral Zone, over the past several weeks.  I have discovered a series of anomalies which may be related to the incident recorded by the Enterprise sensors, the result of which is our current mission."

"Go on, Data", Picard prodded.

"As can be seen by this holographic display", Data continued, activating the holographic viewer in the center of the conference table.  "Starf leet was first alerted to increased activity in the Neutral Zone three weeks ago when long-range sensors noted a substantial increase in Romulan sub-space communications in the sector bordering this one.  The communications were tagged by Starfleet Intelligence as normal ship to ship traffic.  However, the volume of traffic is in itself an indication of an appreciable change in Romulan patrol patterns."

"Two weeks ago, the Romulans began operating their patrols in elements of two, for the first time since Starfleet began monitoring this quadrant fifty-two years ago.  This seems to be a change with no rational motivation, considering the fact
that there are no space-faring races in this quadrant of the Neutral Zone, and the change in patrol patterns is limited to this quadrant alone."

"It sounds to me as if the Romulans are looking for something, Captain", Riker speculated aloud.

"Or someone", Counselor Troi added.

"It would seem, Commander, that Starfleet is as well", Data responded.  "Four days ago, the starship Excalibur was pulled from it's regular patrol station and instructed to proceed to this sector at best possible speed."

Captain Picard was obviously surprised by this information.  "Are you telling me, Mr. Data, that Starf leet Command is purposely keeping us from knowing all the facts in this case?"

"That would appear to be an accurate assessment, Captain", Data replied.

The Captain looked around the conference table at each of his senior officers in turn.  He's wondering if some of us are going die during this mission, Deanna thought with astonishment.  When her turn for the Captain's scrutiny came, he held her gaze for a fraction longer than he had with the others.

"Anything else, Data."

"I have also obtained further information on the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild."

"Proceed."

"I have discovered that the Guild was unique in several respects.  Perhaps it's most unusualaspect, was the fact that it was a corporate entity formed by scientists.  Among the Guild's founders, are some of the leading scientific minds of the late twentieth, and early twenty-first centuries. They included experts in the fields of astrophysics, microbiology, chemistry, metallurgy, electronic engineering, optics, medicine..."

Picard held up his hand, stopping Data's recitation in mid-sentence.  "We get the point, Data.  Please move on."

"Yes, sir.  These experts were recruited, without regard to nationality or political affiliation, by one man, Dr. Charles McLaughlin of the University of Edinburgh."

"Is this the same Charles McLaughlin who wrote Mcbaughlin"s Theorem of Hyper-Spatial Mechanics?", asked Commander Riker.

"Yes, Commander.  McLaughlin was a true giant in his field from a very young age, the treatise that you refer to was published when he was only twenty-three years of age, and forms the basis for much of what we know about navigation at velocities exceeding the speed of light."

"And this was the same man who was labelled as an  international criminal by the authorities of the time?", Geordi asked incredulously.

"McLaughlin was also considered a rebel, Geordi, w'ith a deep suspicion of authority, both academic and political."

"Unfortunately, it is often the rebels who make the great leaps forward in science and technology, and society at large is often suspicious of men who consider themselves to be free thinkers",  the Captain noted.  "The man who created you is a prime example, Data."

"I see your point, Captain, but in this instance there was more involved than mere academic or political misunderstanding.  After forming the Guild, Dr. McLaughlin put forward the idea, that because of it's apolitical nature, the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild should be granted a complete and total monopoly on deep space     transport and exploration.  In exchange, the Guild would pledge not to interfere in any international conflicts on the planet Earth.  The implied threat, was that if they were not granted this monopoly, the Guild would be free to intervene in any international dispute it perceived to be a danger to mankind."

"The threat might have been implied, Data, but its obvious that it was never acted upon!" Dr. Beverly Crusher said, speaking for the first time during the meeting.  "Maybe if this Guild had acted, the horrible bloodshed of those years could have been avoided!"

"I agree, Doctor, that the implied threat was never acted upon.  However, I submit that the governments of the time had no way of knowing that it would not be."

"The question that begs to be asked," Riker wondered aloud.  "Is why wasn't the threat acted upon?"

"Perhaps they lacked the courage," Lieutenant Worf snarled.

"Issues such as this are rarely so cut and dried, Lieutenant,"Picard chided his Chief of Security.

"Hmph," was the Klingon officer's only response.

"The answer to your question, Commander," Data resumed.  "May have to do with the choice that UN Resolution 1446 forced upon McLaughlin and his followers. They could either embark upon a military campaign to defeat the governments arrayed against them, or they could abandon those same governments to whatever fate had in store for them.  Being men of science, they chose the latter course, as the less dangerous one for humanity as a whole."

"That would make sense from a purely military perspective as well," Worf allowed.  "If their primary objective was to deny the governments of Earth access to their technology, they made the correct choice. In any military conflict, there is a certain amount of technology transfer between the opposing forces."

"That would seem to explain the incident with the American shuttle as well," Commander Riker agreed.

Captain Picard listened for a moment before bringing the discussion back to the matter at hand.  "This is all very interesting, Mr. Data, but what has it got to do with the mission that the Enterprise has been assigned."

"I have come to believe, Captain, that Starfleet suspects that the Guilds technological advances may have been more substantial than first thought. I have accessed an Admiralty file which details a'Starfleet Intelligence assessment that the recent disturbances in the Neutral Zone might be linked to surviving elements of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild.  Furthermore, these suspected advances in technology during the second decade of the twenty-first century possibly by-passed warp-drive technology altogether and achieved a scientific breakthrough of monumental proportions."

"Hyper-Warp," Geordi whispered in awe.

"Exactly, Geordi.  Theoretically,  once the "absolute" warp threshold of ten has been exceeded, there is no  limit of the velocities that might be achieved."

This revelation was greeted with silence, as the senior officers absorbed the implications of the information Lieutenant Commander Data had given them.  It was Commander Piker who first broke the silence that had descended on the meeting.  "How did you get access to this Admiralty file, Data?" Riker demanded sharply.

Data was momentarily taken aback by the question. "I... broke in to it, Commander."

Piker grinned.  "My compliments on your initiative, Mr. Data!"

"Yes, Data, well done," the Captain agreed.

Data looked puzzled.  "I do not understand, Captain? I violated several Starfleet regulations to obtain access to the Admiralty's classified intelligence records."

"And by doing so, Data, you have obtained information that may be  vital    to the continued survival of the Enterprise, and~i1 aboatd%er-!" the Captain concluded.

Lieutenant Worf was the next to speak.  "Captain, I am greatly concerned with the danger these Guild weapons, if they exist, pose to the Enterprise. It may be necessary to recalibrate our shields."

"Is it possible to recalibrate the shields to counter these weapons without degrading our ability to withstand a conventional phaser or photon torpedo attack?" Piker inquired.

"The Guild's charged photon weapons, are very similiar in effect to the Enterprise photon torpedo, Commander," Data answered.  "The differences are primarily in the amount of time the shields will be under bombardment.  With a photon torpedo/the explosive effects are instantaneous and dissipate rapidly.  In the case of a charged photon, particle beam, there is the possibility that a sustained bombardment will have a cumulative effect, causing a cascade breakdown of the shields."

"In other words, Commander," Worf snarled. Primary and secondary shields will collapse at the same moment."

"I believe that is what I said, Lieutenant," Data said innocently.

Worf merely growled an incoherent response.

"Can you recalibrate, Worf?" Riker persisted.

"Yes, Commander."

"Very well," the Captain asserted.  "Make it so!"  Then, looking around the table, Picard asked, "What is the status of other departments?"

"Engineering is fully up to speed, Captain. Warp engines are at ninety-nine point three percent," Geordi replied.

"Medical is on twenty-four hour combat alert," Dr. Crusher answered.

"Counselor?"

"The crew is tense, but I detect no serious problems, Captain."

"Fine.  When Excalibur arrives, Number One, I'll expect you and the Counselor both at my meeting with Captain Wilson."  The Captain turned to Counselor Troi. "It's important that I get a feel for what Captain Wilson is thinking, Counselor.  I need to know if she is withholding any information from us."

"Data, Mr. Laforge, I would like to know if it will be possible to link the tractor beams on Enterprise, Excalibur, and Hood, to pull those two Romulan ships into Federation space before we send anyone aboard them.  Peport to my ready room when you've  completed your analysis.  This meeting is concluded, dismissed."

Chapter Two

Deanna sat looking out at the stars which seemed to hang just outside the huge, floor to ceiling, observation windows in the Ten-Forward lounge. Ten-Forward was always~good place to come and gauge the tension level on the Enterprise, Deanna thought. Two-thirds of the Enterprise crew was off duty at any one time, and so Ten-Forward had become a focal point of recreational activities at all hours of what would normally be day or night.  Deanna liked to come and look out the windows, and just observe people coming and going.

The mood was subdued this evening, although the place was nearly full of off-duty personnel, many of them waiting expectantly for the arrival of Excalibur. There was nothing quite like the spectacle of a starship decelerating from warp-speed, and Deanna herself admitted she was looking forward to witnessing the event.

She was not looking forward to her meeting with Captain Christina Wilson, however.  When her name was mentioned during the staff meeting, Will Riker's reaction was one of curious expectation, with an undercurrentt' sexual tension.  She wasn't quite sure why that bothered her so much, she and Will hadn't actually been lovers for some time, but she had the nagging feeling that Captain Wilson was going to be a problem for her personally.

Deanna wasn't generally intimidated by anyone, with the possible exception of her mother, and the fact that Christina Wilson was supposed to be extremely beautiful shouldn't have any affect on her impression of liar.  In her job  it was an absolute necessity that she be able to see past external physical appearances1 to get at the root personalities of the people she dealt with.  Never the less, Deanna was a woman, and she was forced to admit that where Will Riker was concerned, she was not immune to the sensation of jealously.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she chanted softly to herself.  I haven't even met her yet, and already I dislike her!  What's the matter with ma  Will has made it quite clear that if he has to chose between me and his career, I come second.  It's not like he's been leading a celibate life!  None of his affairs has bothered me before, and for all I know he and Captain Wilson will take an instant dislike to each other.  That thought made her feel a bit better.

At that moment, there was a flash of light and a cascading rainbow of colour as the starship Excalibur arrived.  Almost simultaneously, her combadge beeped.

"Counselor Troi, report to the Captain's ready room."

"On my way, Captain."  As she got up to leave, she looked out the windows at Excalibur, hanging in space A kilometer away, and was filled with a feeling of dread.

****

Commander Riker walked into Transporter Room Three and nodded to the Transporter Chief.  "Have you received the co-ordinates from Excalibur, Chief?"

"Aye, Sir."

"Energize, Mr O'Brian!"

There was a faint hum, as the Transporter Chief stroked the console to begin the transport, and immediately two forms began to materialize on the platform.  Riker experienced a flash of  irritation that Captain Wilson wasn't arriving alone, but then he realized that the captain of a starship, particularly a newly promoted one, was unlikely to travel anywhere without her First Officer.

As the materialization of the two officers from Excalibur firmed up, Riker realized that the rumours of Christina Wilson's striking beauty were not exaggerated.  She was probably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Her long, blond hair, was worn loose, framing a face that an ancient greek sculptor would have been struck blind by.  Her lips were full and sensuous, with a slight pout, that didn't detract in the least from her obvious authority.  She appraised him with a cool look from her brilliant blue eyes before stepping down from the platform and offering her hand.

"Christina Wilson," she said, taking Riker's outstretched hand.  "This is Commander Arthur McFadden, Starf leet Intelligence," she added with a casual gesture toward the man on the other transport pad.

Riker covered his surprise and shook hands with each of them in turn.  "Commander William Riker, First Officer of the Enterprise.  Captain Picard is waiting for us in his ready room.  Would you follow me, please?" Riker said, ushering the two officers out the door and into the passageway.

"How long before the Hood is scheduled to arrive, Commander?"  McFadden asked, rather peremptorially, Riker thought.

"At last report, the Hood is nineteen hours away."

"I trust that will not delay the implementation of our mission, Commander," McFadden responded.

"I am sure Captain Picard will apprise you of his intentions, Arthur.  He has been appointed as Task Force Commander," Riker replied,his sarcasm not lost on Captain Wilson, who managed to flash him the briefest of smiles, before the three of them stepped onto the turbo-lift.

"Bridge," Riker ordered, returning the smile.

As they stepped off the turbo-lift, and on to the bridge, Commander McFadden barely gave it a second glance.  Captain Wilson, on the other hand, took in every detail.  Riker didn't have to be an empath to read her ambition, it was written all over her face.  So, he thought, she thinks she would like to command the Enterprise someday.  That's a weakness.  Ambition should be evident, but not quite so obvious.

The door to the Captain's ready room chimed softly as the three officers stood in front of it, and Captain Picard's voice came through the communications panel, "Yes."

"Captain Wilson from Excalibur, and Commander McFadden of Starfleet Intelligence to see you Captain," Riker stated for the benefit of the ship's log, and just in case Chief  O'Brian hadn't alerted the bridge to the presence of the intelligence operative from Starfleet Command.

"Come," was Picard's terse reply.

Captain Picard did not bother to rise from his seated position behind his desk, Riker noted,as he and the other two officers stepped into the ready room.  "Captain, I'd like to introduce Captain Wilson of Excalibur, and Commander McFadden of Starf leet Intelligence."

Picard gave each of the officers a brief nod, by way of greeting and then introduced Counselor Troi.  "Deanna Troi, Ships Counselor.  She will be sitting in on our meeting."

Commander McFadden seemed to be about to saysomething, but Picard silenced him with a look.  "Do you have a problem with that, Commander?"

McFadden hesitated for an instant, before replying. "No, Sir."

"Good!  Let's begin.  Perhaps you can tell us, Commander, what you know about the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild?"

The intelligence officer was obviously caught off guard by the question.  "You have excellent sources of information, Captain Picard," McFadden countered.

"Yes, Commander.  My people are quite resourceful, when properly motivated," Picard replied caustically.

McFadden's mouth twisted into an enigmatic attempt at a smile.  "I can understand your anger at not being fully informed, Captain, but you must realize that the Enterprise was never intended to be here. The fact that your long-range sensors alerted you to a problem in the Neutral Zone was an accident, that Starfleet Command had no control over."

Captain Picard's anger was bubbling dangerously close to the surface, Counselor Troi realized. If Commander McFadden continued to be so obtuse the Captain was quite capable of throwing him off the Enterprise, and damn the consequences!  She decided to attempt a mediation, before the acrimony between the two men progressed any further.

"Commander," the Counselor began, "whatever the circumstances that brought the Enterprise here, we were the first Federation vessel to arrive on the scene, and Captain Picard is the senior officer present.  Therefore, it would seem only prudent that he be fully briefed, before the mission progresses any further.  Unlike you, Commander,the Captain has almost a thousand peoples lives to consider before making any decision affecting the Enterprise.~

Deanna's words had the desired affect, and McFadden replied in a somewhat mollified tone. "Of course, you're right, Counselor.  Please accept my apologies, Captain."

"Let's just get on with the briefing, Commander. "

"Yes, Sir.  As you know, the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild was a corporate entity of the early twenty-first century established by an international consortium of scientists.  These men were apparently disgusted with the political interference that they felt interrupted the free flow of ideas necessary to achieve real technological advances.  The Guild was brought together by Dr. Charles McLaughlin in the latter half of the year 2010.  Four years later, the Guild had managed to develop a spacecraft that was literally centuries ahead of its time."

"Starting with the breakthrough in anti-grav technology, the Guild continued to make giant strides in the fields of astrophysics, metallurgy, and medicine. They were perhaps, the finest multi-discipline research team ever assembled."  McFadden withdrew a computer file chip from his briefcase and gestured toward the terminal on Picard's desk.  "May I?"

"By all means, Commander."

McFadden inserted the memory chip, and accessed the file.  "Two years ago, while researching a biography of Ephram Cochrane, an  engineering student at Starf leet Academy was given a box of papers by the Cochrane family.  In the box, the student discovered a large file of handwritten notes authored by Cochrane himself, in which he describes in detail the path which led to his discovery of warp-drive technology."  The monitor displayed a flow chart with several sections high-lighted in bright red.

"As can be seen from this flow chart," he continued.  "There are several rather large leaps of intuition that Cochrane made.  In the past, this was attributed to the brilliance of the man himself.  However, also found in this box of correspondence was a three page formula and thesis describing the specifications for a matter/anti-matter containment chamber.  The interesting part of this thesis and formula, is that it uses materials that Cochrane would not be familiar with, because those materials had not been used in a hundred years."

"I am sure it was not a student at Starfleet Academy who made the connection between Cochrane and the Guild," Picard mused, intuitively guessing where this was leading.

"No, Captain." McFadden replied.  "The connection was not made at all, until quite recently.  The student completed his biography and filed it with the Engineering Department; the thesis he found among Cochrane's papers was attached as an appendix to the biography."

McFadden called up a new display, and Picard and the others leaned forward in interest.  "Eight months ago, a Federation survey team stumbled upon the entrance to an underground complex on Pluto. Inside, they found four spacecraft in a hanger carved out of the tock one thousand meters below the planet's surface.  At first, the vessels were assumed to be alien in design, so different were they from any Terran spacecraft that there are historical records of."

The monitor now displayed a picture of the inside of a huge cavern.  In the foreground, were the four Guild spacecraft.  Dull grey in colour, they were the approximate shape of the Enterprise's saucer section, although not quite as streamlined.  Each of them sat on a landing gear which consisted of a round tube with four hydraulic struts attached, the entire assembly sagging slightly, but in surprisingly good condition nonetheless.

"Remarkable!" Picard whispered.

"Yes, they are in exceedingly good shape, considering the fact that they have been sitting there for more than three centuries," McFadden agreed.  "The spacecraft," he continued, "show an extraordinary sophistication of design.  In fact, the engineering inherent in these vessels would be considered elegant, even by today's standards."

"Are they space-worthy?" Riker asked. "They might be," McFadden hedged.

Captain Wilson spoke for the first time, in answer to Riker's question.  "We have all four of them aboard Excalibur."

Riker's brows shot up in surprise.  "I'm glad to see we've come prepared, Captain Wilson."

"I think Lieutenant Commander Data, and LaForge, should take a look at these vessels, Number One." Picard said.  Turning to Captain Wilson, he asked, "With your permission1 of course, Captain?"

Captain Wilson nodded in the affirmative.  "The reputations of the Enterprise's Second Officer and Chief Engineer, are well known, Captain.  My people will provide all the assistance they can."

"See to it at once, Number One," Picard ordered. Riker tapped his combadge, "Lieutenant Commander Data, Mr. LaForge, report to Transporter Room Three immediately!"  Riker then rose, and left the ready room, leaving
Picard and Counselor Troi alone with the two officers from Excalibur.

Deanna slowly exhaled, realizing for the first time that she had been unconsciously holding her breath for at least part of the time Will was in the room.  Although she detected a mild interest in Will from Captain Wilson, she was surprised to find the Excalibur's commanding officer was devoting most of her attention to Captain Picard, and that the attention was not entirely professional in nature.

There was a certain amount of physical attraction, but something else as well, that Deanna couldn't quite put her finger on,  She had been silently compiling a psychological profile of the young Captain, as per Captain Picard's instructions, and so far did not read any ulterior motivation in the feelings she was projecting.  That did not necessarily mean anything, often enough people were able to hide deep-rooted emotions from her at their first meeting.  It was only after long working relationships that she was able to interpret the impressions she received with absolute accuracy.  It was usually easier if the person she was dealing with did not know she was an empath, and Deanna had no way of knowing whether Captain Wilson was aware of the fact that the Enterprise   Ship's Counselor was a Betazoid.  The information certainly was not a secret.

If Christina Wilson lives up to her reputation, she thought, she will know at least as much about us as we know about her.  So she probably knows my background in a general way, but she might not know any specific personal information.

Why do I still have this terrible feeling of impending doom? she wondered, and why was I so sure it had something to do with Will Riker?  Keep your mind on the task at hand, she admonished herself, trying her best  to concentrate on the ebb and flow of emotion in the room, as Commander McFadden completed his briefing for Captain Picard.

"Once it was discovered that the spacecraft found on Pluto were of Earth origin, samples were taken back to Earth for analysis.  It was at that time that the main-frame computer at Starfleet Command made the connection between the formula found in the Cochrane papers and the molecular structure of some of the components found on Pluto."

Captain Picard looked somewhat perplexed by this statement.  "I understood the Cochrane formula had to do with a matter/anti-matter containment chamber. Are you saying that these ships found on Pluto were equipped with warp-drive?"

"No, Captain, but apparently the designers used the same materials for the construction of these smaller scout-type vessels."

"As I am sure you are aware, Captain Picard," Captain Wilson broke in, "a vessel constructed from materials designed to contain a matter/anti-matter mix, will be virtually impervious to phasers!"

"What about charged photon cannons?" Picard asked ominously.

It was Commander McFadden's turn to look perplexed.  "I don't understand, Captain.  What is a charged photon cannon?"

"A high-density, charged photon, particle beam is the weapon used against the Romulan cruisers. That is what led Lieutenant Commander Data to his discovery of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild," Picard explained.  "The weapon is very similar to our own photon torpedo, except for the fact that the effects are continuous rather than instantaneous."

"How do we defend against such a weapons system?" asked Captain Wilson.

"Lieutenant Worf has designed a modification for the Enterprise's shields that he is confident will work.  I suggest your own Tactical Officer talk to him."

Captain Wilson tapped her combadge, "Wilson to Excalibur."
"Yes, Captain," a voice replied from the communcation device.

"Mr. Davis, have Lieutenant Ursal contact the Enterprise's Tactical Officer, Lieutenant Worf.  There is a modification to our shields which Mr. Worf will send the specifications for.  I want the modification accomplished by the time I return.
Wilson out!"

"Aye, Sir! Excalibur out."

"Captain Picard," Commander McFadderi said.  "Starfleet Command is very anxious to begin the salvage of the Romulan vessels.  How do you intend to proceed?"

Picard grimaced in Counselor Troi's direction before responding.  "I do not intend to proceed at all, until all our assets have arrived.  The Hood is still eighteen hours away.  I am not prepared to risk a major confrontation with the Romulans or whatever remains of the Inter-Planetary Guild, before she arrives.  Once the Hood has arrived on station,we will co-ordinate the tractor beams of the three vessels in order to bring the Romulan ships into Federation space.  Then, and only then, will I allow anyone to board them!"

It was quite obvious to Deanna that Commander McFadden was not happy with the scenario Captain Picard described.  He was extremely agitated, and the Counselor was forced to probe deeper to find out exactly why.

"Why are you so anxious to get aboard the Romulan vessels, Commander?  Data has already told us that there are no computer records that are salvageable. It would seem, you have some personal reason for haste in this situation."

"My personal reasons are none of your business, Counselor!" McFadden retorted, and then in a calmer tone, "I assure you, Captain, my only concern is the successful completion of this operation.  I simply feel, that the longer we delay, the more likely it is that the Romulans will arrive to take control of those two ships."

"That may be, Commander," Picard countered, "But I think you would do well to remember that those are Romulan ships!  Whether or not the Federation has any right to attempt a salvage operation, is in some doubt, as far as I am concerned!  I can also assure you, quite unequivocally, that the Romulan High-Command will take a dim view of Federation personnel boarding one of their vessels in the Neutral Zone!"

Deanna rarely saw the Captain lose his temper, but she recognized the cold vehemence in his voice for what it was, a danger signal!  Jean-Luc Picard could be extremely sarcastic when he thought a junior officer needed to be put in his place, and she had a feeling that Commander McFadden was about to feel the full impact of the Captain's anger.

"Furthermore, Commander McFadden," Picard continued in the same tone of voice, "You have still not told us exactly what Starfleet has in mind.  Are we in fact trying to make contact with surviving elements of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild, or are we on some type of personal crusade to enhance the careers of certain officers at Starfleet Command?"

McFadden and Wilson both seemed to be struck speechless for a moment, and then McFadden responded with equal vehemence.  "The mission, Captain Picard, is to gain the most information from those Romulan cruisers in the shortest possible time!  The Guild, if they exist, almost certainly have engaged in hostile acts against the Romulan Empire, and Starfleet Command is concerned that their actions might be interpreted as a Federation act of war!"

"So you intend to compound these problems by seizing two Romulan vessels in the Neutral Zone? I would hardly construe that as an olive branch, Commander!"

McFadden took a moment to compose himself, before replying.  "There is also the matter of the HyperWarp Drive, Captain Picard.  We feel that a certain amount of risk is acceptable  in order to deny such a technological breakthrough to the Romulans."

"I see, finally we arrive at the crux of the matter.  Just how far is Starfleet Command willing to go to deny this technology to the Romulan Empire?"

"If necessary, Captain Picard, McFadden replied, "any Guild vessels we encounter are to be destroyed, rather than let
them fall into Romulan hands."

****

Riker, Data, and LaForge transported directly to the Excalibur's main hanger from the Enterprise. They were met by the Excalibur's First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Davis, and her Science Specialist, a Vulcan named S'dar.  Once introductions were made, the joint team went straight to work.  It wasn't long before Riker, and he suspected the same of Lieutenant Commander Davis, was thoroughly confused by the three-way conversation between Data, Geordi, and S'dar.

After about fifteen minutes of poking around the inside of the four Guild spacecraft, Data, Geordi, and S'dar made their joint recommendation to the two senior officers. Data did the talking for all of them.

"In our opinion, Commander Riker, it is possible to rejuvenate two of the spacecraft,by cannibalizing the other two."

Riker looked to Davis for his thoughts on this plan.

"Sounds like an appropriate action, Commander."

"I agree," Riker replied as he tapped his combadge. "Riker to Picard."

"Picard here.  Go ahead, Number One."

"After looking at the Guild ship's, the team has recommended that we attempt to make two of them space-worthy, by cannibalizing the other two, Captain."

"Excellent!  Make it so, Number One.  Picard out."

"Your Captain doesn't waste words, does he?" Davis asked with a smile.

Riker shook his head.  "Not usually."  He then turned to the other three officers.  "Gentlemen, you have your orders!"

They started out by doing a complete inventory of the Guild spacecraft.  The ships were in excellent condition, all things considered, but there were obviously components missing, and the three of them had not yet discovered exactly how the craft were powered.  They were attempting to solve this elemental problem by systematically disassembling one of the spacecraft.

S'dar pursed his lips in concentration, the closest he ever came to showing real emotion, and studied the engineering schematic Geordi was putting -together with the aid of the Excalibur's design computer.

"It would appear that the designers of this spacecraft were intentionally obtuse in their choices of engineering options," the Vulcan stated rather enigmatically.

"You can say that again!" Geordi replied in undisguised frustration.  "Look at all these dead-end loops, they just hang there between the interior and exterior hulls!  What could they have been thinking of?"

"Obviously, something which has not occured to the three of us," S'dar replied calmly.

Geordi grinned.  "Obviously!  I wish Data would get back with that molecular analysis, maybe that will give us some clue why this thing is put together the way it is."

S'dar considered this statement for a moment, before observing,"wishing for a thing rarely makes it arrive any faster."

Geordi gave the Vulcan officer a sidelong glance. "You and Data should get along famously, S'dar."

A slightly raised eyebrow was the Vulcan's only reply.

As if to prove S'dar wronq, Data arrived a few seconds later.  He was pushing an anti-grav sled piled high with various pieces of equipment, and pulling another one loaded with cylinders of liquid nitrogen.

S'dar and Geordi both eyed the assorted cargoes of the sleds in speculation.  "What's all this stuff, Data?" the Engineer asked.

"I believe I have discovered the power source for these vessels, Geordi," Data answered, stopping the two sleds next to the work-station.  "These supplies will be necessary to activate the power grid built in to the Guild spacecraft."

"Excuse me, Mr. Data, but we have found no evidence of a power grid or any system that could be used for integral power distribution," S'dar ventured.

"That is correct, S'dar," Data replied.  "Nevertheless, such a system does in fact exist."

"Please elaborate."

"The molecular analysis of the exterior hull material was pivotal," Data continued.  "When compared to the material taken from the interior hull, a subtle difference in composition was discovered. In fact, the two materials were exact mirror images of one another, molecularly speaking at least."

Turning to Geordi's engineering schematic, Data began to illustrate his point.  "The inner and outer hulls are both manufactured from a layered, composite material,which bears a cursory resemblance, in molecular structure, to a form of ceramic. By accessing historical engineering data, I was able to identify these compounds as elements in a super-conducting circuit. You will notice, that the innermost structure of the spacecraft is made of a different material altogether, allowing the relative conductivity of the two super-conducting hulls to be controlled from an electro-dynamically neutral command area.  This area is made of materials which form an absolute barrier to all electro-magnetic radiation."

Data manipulated the controls of the computer design terminal to change the display to a graphic representation of the structure of the Guild spacecraft.

"We're still left with the same basic problem, Data," Geordi said.  "Where is the power for the super-conducting circuit coming from?"

S'dar was studying the display with interest. He moved over to another terminal, and called up the molecular analysis  that Data had completed. The Vulcan studied the formula of the super-conducting hulls for a moment, and then input a new formula from memory, for a relative comparison.  The computer calculated the differences in the two formulas in less than a second, and offered a possible hypothesis to explain the differences.

"The conductivity of the material in the Guild spacecraft is temperature dependent," S'dar stated without a trace of satisfaction.

Geordi's brow furrowed, as he tried to grasp the point S'dar was rnaking.  "So, the conductivity varies with temperature, there is always a degradation in the conductivity of super-conducting elements at extremely high temperatures."  He shrugged, "so what?"

"The point S'dar is making, Geordi," Data responded patiently, "is that these elements do not conduct electrons at all, unless the temperature is dropped below a specific threshold temperature.  You have made the incorrect assumption that super-conducting compounds of the twenty-first century react in the same manner as compounds manufactured in the twentyfouth c~n~ury,fl he concluded.

Geordi's expression changed to one of sudden understanding.  "I see!  Then the liquid nitrogen is used to cool the hulls to the point where they begin spontaneous conduction4~ ctAA~tt~I~ :9%'~c£tt\\'."

"That is correct.  I believe we will find an access valve, through which we can pump the coolant in to the space between the inner and outer hulls."

"Once the super-conducting laminates in the hulls are conducting, because of their mirror image, they will try to repel each other," S'dar stated.

"And that will cause the two hulls to begin rotating in opposite directions around this command sphere, setting up an extremely dense electro-magnetic field!" Geordi continued.

"Which in turn, will create a self-sustaing, continuouly self-generating conductance loop," Data finished.

Geordi turned back to his engineering diagram. "So these dead end loops are actually methods of controlling the shape of the electro-magnetic field. Thereby, controlling direction, and velocity!"

"I believe that is a valid hypothesis, Lieutenant Commander LaForge," agreed S'dar.

"Please, S'dar, call me Geordi.  We don't go much for formality aboard the Enterprise. 

The Vulcan inclined his head in acquiescence. "If you prefer, Geordi."

"But where is the computer har&iare to monitor it all, Data?"

Instead of replying to Geordi's question, Data hooked a large scanning device up to the computer terminal, and began running it over the portion of the command sphere which was exposed on the disassembled Guild ship.  Immediately, what were  clearly  computer circuits were displayed on the monitor.  "There is your answer, Geordi.  All the control circuitry, and computer architecture, has been grafted directly on to the inside surface of the command sphere. Please notice, that when I put back this material which previously covered the command sphere, the scanner does not read anything, indicating that under operating conditions, the command sphere is completely shielded from the electro-magnetic field surrounding the spacecraft."

"A truly astounding innovation, for Terran scientists of the twenty-first century," S'dar observed.

"I'm impressed, that's for sure!" exclaimed Geordi. 

S'dar began doing calculations on his terminal, and after a few minutes, turned to the officers from the Enterprise.  "According to my calculations, given the relatively low inherent mass of these spacecraft, and the density of the electro-magnetic field they are able to generate, it would be possible to achieve velocities closely approaching the speed of light.  It actually works out to warp decimal nine-nine-three."

"And the field is sufficiently dense to contain a matter/anti-matter mix!" Geordi added in amazement.

Data processed this information, adding it to what was becoming a voluminous file in his selfcontained memory banks.  Although they were making good progress on discovering the Guild craft's method of propulsion, each new piece of information brought new questions.  How did a group of twenty-first century scientists, working without the support of any government, manage to accomplish so much in such a relatively short period of time?  Data very much wished that he could have met Dr. Charles McLaughlin, in order that he might ask him that very question, but of course he knew that was impossible.

"There is no evidence to suggest that any of these spacecraft were armed, Data."

Geordi's comment triggered something in Data's positronic brain, in a human it would have been called intuition, but Data was not prepared to ascribe that description to what happened in the complex circuitry of his consciousness.  "Computer, given the engineering parameters already assigned to the Guild spacecraft, detail the modifications needed to install a high-density, charged photon, accelerator."

"Working... no modification of existing engineering specifications necessary."

"Explain," Data prompted.

"Photon accelerator is inherent to current design specifications."

"It would appear, the propulsion and weapons systems are symbiotic in nature, impossible to manufacture one without the other," S'dar concluded.

Chapter Three

Captain's Personal Log: Stardate __________ 

The Enterprise is maintaining station five thousand kilometers from the Neutral Zone boundary, directly opposite the two destroyed Romulan cruisers we discovered twenty hours ago.  We have been joined by the starship Excalibur, and are awaiting the imminent arrival of the Hood.  Starfleet Command has sent an Intelligence Officer, Commander Arthur McFadden, ostensibly to observe the salvage operation we have been ordered to undertake, but Counselor Troi feels the man is concealing his real mission, and I must admit I agree with her assessment.

When pressed, he admitted that Starfleet Command is of the opinion that any technology that survivors of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild might possess, must not fall into Romulan hands.  The man had the audacity to attempt to order me to destroy any Guild spacecraft that we encounter, rather than see that happen!

Captain Christina Wilson, the Excalibur's commanding officer, is an unknown quantity.  The only certainty I have concerning her, is that she is possibly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  Not a glowing recommendation for senior command, in my opinion! Counselor Troi has yet to tell me her assessment of the young Captain, but even with my severely limited empathic abilities, I detected tension between them.

The arrival of the Hood will be a relief to me. Captain Desoto and I are old friends, and I value his judgement greatly.  I believe that the attempt to salvage the Romulan cruisers is ill conceived, and I am hoping Desoto will agree.

Picard closed the log entry, swiveled his chair to look out the observation window behind him, and sighed softly.  Ever since he was a boy, gazing at the stars had enabled him to put his thoughts into perspective.  The view was much better as Captain of the USS Enterprise, than it had been from his father's vineyards in southern France, as an introspective and sometimes rebellious youth. The journey from that point in his life to this one was not without its disappointments, but all-in-all, Jean-Luc Picard was satisfied with the course his life had followed.  The few regrets he carried with him, were locked away in their proper compartments, and he thought of them rarely.

It was one of those regrets that surfaced now, however.  And the more he thought about it, the more troubling it became.  Jean-Luc Picard was, in the deepest recesses of his soul, a romantic.  It was a flaw in his character which no amount of analysis, or outright rejection, had been fully able to eradicate, and every now and then he allowed himself the luxury of embracing his loneliness.

There was no  soul-mate  with which he was able to share the triumphs and tragedies of his life. The joy of his first command, and the overwhelming sorrow he experienced when he was forced to abandon her, crippled beyond repair, to the dubious mercies of space.  No-one to offer support of a personal nature, on the long climb back from the trauma of losing the Stargazer.  No-one to share his pride at accepting command of the Enterprise.

Invariably, it was the appearance of a beautiful woman which triggered these sophomoric retreats into the game of  "what if" he thought in exasperation. No doubt the crew would be scandalized if they knew that their austere commanding officer had a weakness for blue-eyed blondes.  I am sure Riker would be especially amused.

The chime which notified him that someone was seeking entry, brought his mind back to the task at hand.  "Enter."  It was Counselor Troi, returned from escorting Commander McFadden to temporary quarters aboard the Enterprise.

"I've seen to the settlement of our new guest in his quarters, Captain."

"Very good, Counselor, and Mr. Worf has been instructed to keep our guest under observation?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What's your reading of him, Counselor?"

"I don't believe he's telling us everything he knows, Captain."

Picard scowled.  "Agreed!"  Then he paused, before asking, in what he hoped was a thoroughly neutral tone, "And Captain Wilson, what is your impression of her?"

A smile played at the corners of Troi's mouth, as she tried not to notice the Captain's discomfort. "She's attracted to you, Jean-Luc," she stated matterof-factly, suppressing the urge to laugh out loud.

"Oh," was all the Captain managed to say in response.

"Yes, Captain   I would characterized her emotional response to you, as being quite sexual in nature," she teased, enjoying immensely the rare sight of Captain Jean-Luc Picard at an absolute loss for words!

Picard felt the colour rising in his face, which only served to increase his already substantial state of embarrassment.  Counselor Troi's eyes were clearly sparkling in amusement, he noticed, and that did nothing to improve his state of mind.  When he finally got his vocal cords working, he too was beginning to see the humour in the situation.  "That was a damned impudent thing to say, Counselor!" 

Troi's smile broadened, to the point where she could no longer contain her amusement, and began to laugh softly.  "I'm sorry, Captain... I couldn't resist, the opportunity presents itself so rarely!" 

"Of that  I am grateful," Picard said, his dignity finally reasserting itself.

"To get back to Captain Wilson, for the most part she holds herself tightly in control.  I detect no guile in her, but I feel that she is still a little unsure of her ablility to command, partly because of the fact that the senior staff on board Excalibur have all served together for many years. She still considers herself to be an outsider, and covers her own insecurities by projecting an image of aloofness."

Picard nodded in understanding.  "I'll let you in on a little secret, Counselor, all Captains resort to that tactic at some point during their first commands!"  Picard reflected for a moment on his own first months in the center seat.  He too had been the outsider, younger than some of the people he was commanding, but supremely confident in his ability to command them well.  He knew, as only a senior Captain could, exactly how Christina Wilson felt.  It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, he thought, indulging in a moment of nostalgia. And none of us could ever imagine doing anything else with our lives!

"I need to know how she will react under pressure, Counselor.  The tactical plot is liable to get
very complicated, very quickly, if the Romulans and the Guild arrive at the same instant!"

Deanna considered her reply carefully, before responding.  The feeling that something terrible was going to happen still assaulted her, but she was less sure that it had anything to do with Captain Wilson, and Excalibur.  Deanna knew very well that Captain Picard relied on her judgement, and that her feelings about Wilson were coloured by personal insecurities of her own.  "I believe Captain Wilson is exactly what she appears to be, an outstanding officer with a stable emotional make-up.  She will react as well as any Captain would, with her limited experience."

Picard frowned.  "I believe I detect a caveat, Counselor.  Do you think I should give temporary command of the Excalibur to Commander Riker?"   

"That is your decision to make, Captain.  However, if you relieve Captain Wilson of her command before she's had an opportunity to prove herself, you might do irreparable damage to her confidence."

"These kinds of decisions are never easy, Counselor.

I must weigh the risks to Captain Wilson's psyche against the risks she might pose to the mission.  A mission, which I am not comfortable with, and which I believe has not been well defined!"

Picard got up from behind his desk and walked over to the food dispenser. "Tea, Earl Grey, hot. Would you like something, Counselor?"

"No, thank you."

Picard retrieved his tea from the dispenser, returned to his seat, and took an appreciative sip.  "There really is nothing,like a good cup of tea," he said in satisfaction.

"I've always been curious, Captain... France is famous for its cafe's, and the rich coffee they serve.  How is it you became a tea drinker?"

"Ahh! An interesting story, Counselor."  Picard smiled, before launching into his narrative.

****

Captain Wilson strode into the hanger bay on Excalibur, and came to a surprised halt when she realized what the joint Enterprise/Excalibur engineering team was doing to the Guild spacecraft.  All four vessels were completely disassembled, and the various components were being catalogued.  She stood there for a moment, surveying the apparent chaos, before spotting S'dar standing beside a computer console being operated by the Enterprise's android, Lieutenant Commander Data.  Across the hanger, the Chief Engineer from Enterprise was examining a large half sphere with a scanner.

What a mess! she thought angrily.  She resolved to find out what was going on, without further delay! "S'dar!"

The Vulcan turned toward the sound of his name being called, and then stood patiently as his commanding officer marched toward him.  He was instantly able to read the Captain's body language, and come to the conclusion that she was irritated in some way. What could be disturbing her, eluded him, he had long-ago decided that the motivation behind the mercurial mood swings of most humans  were beyond his comprehension, and so he no longer attempted to anticipate the emotional outbursts that seemed to follow the human species like a plague.

"Captain," S'dar said placidly, as Wilson arrived at the console where he and Data were working.

"Report, Mister!" Wilson demanded.

Data turned from the console, surprised by the tone of voice the Excalibur's Captain used when she addressed the Vulcan Science Officer.

There was a pregnant pause as S'dar gathered his thoughts before replying.  "We are in the process of assessing the relative condition of each of the components in the four Guild spacecraft.  Following the completion of this inventory, we will begin the reconstruction of two of them."

From the curious looks she was getting from the two officers and several crew members who were helping S'dar, Wilson belatedly realized that she might have insulted the Vulcan with her sharp words. Damn!  Why do I always shoot my mouth off before thinking.  "Very well.  How long is my hanger going to look like a disaster area?"

S'dar contemplated this question carefully,and then he answered with absolute candor, "The hanger deck will continue to be in disarray until the reconstruction of the two spacecraft is complete."

Captain Wilson wasn't sure, but the Vulcan's reply sounded suspiciously sarcastic to her, and she wasn't about to let one of her officer's undermine her authority.  She was about to snap back an angry retort, when the red alert klaxon sounded, and all hell broke loose!

"Captain to the bridge!  Captain Wilson, report to the bridge!"

Wilson slapped the channel open on her combadge. "This is the Captain!  Situation report Mr. Davis?"

"Two Romulan warbirds have decloaked in the Neutral Zone!  Range, seven thousand kilometers.  Tactical reports their weapons systems are fully powered!"

"On my way!"  She turned to S'dar.  "Mr. S'dar, you'll be needed on the bridge.  Mr. Data, Mr. LaForge, return to the Enterprise."

At virtually the same instant, both Data andGeordi's combadges beeped.  It was Commander Riker.

"Lieutenant Commander Data, Lieutenant Commander LaForge, you are needed aboard the Enterprise immediately!" 

Geordi responded for both of them.  "You'll need to drop the shields to beam us over, Commander."

"We are co-ordinating with Excalibur's Tactical Officer now, stand-by."

A few seconds later, the two officers disappeared in the shimmer of the transporter beam.  Wilson
and S'dar were already on their way to the Excalibur's bridge.

****

Picard came on to the bridge a few seconds after the red alert sounded.  The atmosphere was tense, but orderly, and people went about their duties in a calm, professional manner.  He took his seat, before asking for a situation report.  "Status, Number One?"

"Two Romulan warbirds, D'Deridex class, just decloaked, Captain."

"Position?"

"Six thousand five hundred kilometers, and closing," Data reported from his station at Ops.  "Still within the Neutral Zone."

"Lets get some room to maneuver, Number One. Helm, one quarter impulse power," he glanced at his own tactical navigation display on the arm of the command chair, "Course zero two zero, mark, zero two one.  Take us to a position one thousand kilometers from the Neutral Zone boundary.  Mr. Worf, advise Captain Wilson of our actions, and ask her to maintain station, pending further developments."

"Aye, Sir!" Worf replied crisply.  "The Romulan vessels have raised shields, and their forward weapons array is fully armed!"

"Understood."  Picard surveyed the bridge, satisfied that all was as it should be, he ordered, "On main viewer!"

"Excalibur acknowledges receipt of message, Captain. Captain Wilson concurs with our actions," the Klingon reported cynically.  "Visual coming in now."

"Captain," Data said, "The Romulans are on a direct intercept heading to the two cruisers."

The Romulan ships were of a design that was equal to the Enterprise in mass and weaponry.  They were also aesthetically pleasing to look at, Picard reflected. Pale gre6n in colour, their hulls had a translucent quality that was different from any other spacecraft design in the galaxy.  Picard seemed to remember that Federation scientists had theorized the strange colour was, in itself, a part of the Romulan cloaking device.  Perhaps Admiral Turner was right, he thought, and I've just thrown away the opportunity to get a close look at that technology!

Commander Riker was staring at the two Romulan vessels on the main viewer, drinking in their clean lines, and obvious power.  "Say what you want about the Romunlans, they sure build them pretty!"

Picard gave his First Officer an appreciative look.  "I agree, Number One!  They do have a certain flair, don't they?"

"They are also quite deadly, and completely without honour!" Worf growled from Tactical.

Picard didn't bother to reply to his Security Officer's assessment of the Romulan people.  He held his own opinions of the Romulans themselves, coloured somewhat by a recent mission he and Data had completed on the Romulan home world.  The differences in living conditions between the ordinary Romulans, and the members of their ruling class, appalled him.  He could no longer quite bring himself to think of the Romulans as enemies, after that eye-opening experience, regardless of the policies of the Romulan government.

"We have reached the designated co-ordinates, Captain, one thousand kilometers from the Neutral Zone boundary," the Conn officer, Ensign Rho Laren, announced.

"Very well, all stop.  Mr. Worf, open a hailing frequency," Picard ordered.

"Hailing frequency open, Captain."

Picard rose from the command chair and walked toward the central area of the bridge.  "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation vessel Enterprise," he began, "Romulan vessel, please identify yourself and state your intentions.  Do you require assistance?"

Lieutenant Worf manipulated the controls on the communications board, scanning all possible channels and carrier frequencies, for a Romulan reply to the Captain's hail.  "No response, Captain."

"Are they receiving our signal, Mr. Data?"

Data checked his sensor board, and concluded that the Romulan communications array was operating properly.  "According to my sensors, they are receiving us, Captain."

"Ensign, move us in closer.  Hold at one hundred kilometers from the Neutral Zone."

"Aye, Sir!" Rho acknowledged.

"Captain!  One of the Romulans has altered course," Lieutenant Worf warned.  "They are moving to intercept us!"

Picard watched closely as the Romulan ship swept toward the Enterprise, trying to visiualize what was going on in the mind of the Romulan commander. There was no doubt that the Romulans were violating the Neutral Zone treaty by their presence this close to Federation territory, but the legal niceties of the treaty between Romulus and the Federation were of less concern to him than the motivation which drove them to such a flagrant violation.

"Our position is now one hundred kilometers from the Neutral Zone, Captain," Ensign Rho confirmed."

"The Romulan vessel is continuing on an intercept course.  Range... one thousand kilometers, and closing," Worf snarled.  "Request permission to arm weapons?"

"Granted!" Picard stated tersely.

"Phasers and photon torpedoes armed, and on line!" Worf said, his relief evident.

The Captain turned to his Security Officer, and ordered sternly, "Do not fire, unless we are fired upon!"

The Klingon grunted, in undisguised displeasure, but he acknowledged the order.  "Yes, Sir!"

Picard again tried to open a dialogue with the commander of the Romulan ship.  "Romulan vessel, you are in danger of violating Federation territorial boundaries.  What are your intentions?"

"No response, Captain!"

Picard tried one last time, before being forced to act.  "Unidentified Romulan vessel, if you do not change course, you will be violating Federation space!  I will be forced to open fire, without further warning!"

"The Romulan vessel has come to a stop, Captain," Data reported.  "Exactly one hundred kilometers from the Federation boundary."

"It appears, they intend to match us move for move, Captain," Commander Riker stated.

Picard looked at his First Officer, his jaw set. "No, Number One.  I have no intention of accomodating them in that regard!"  He turned to Lieutenant Worf. "Mr. Worf, open a secure channel to Excalibur."

"Channel open."

"On screen!"  The image of the Excalibur's bridge appeared on the main viewer.  "Captain Wilson, we seem to be at an impass, the Romulan commander refuses to acknowledge our hails."

"We've been following your attempts at communication, Captain Picard.  How can we assist?"

"I wish Excalibur to take up a position five hundred kilometers off our starboard, and one hundred kilometers from the Neutral Zone.  On my command, you will lock phasers on the Romulan warbird opposite the Enterprise, but do not fire."

Captain Wilson was seen to take a deep breath, and then, "Wait one, Enterprise!"  The transmission from Excalibur was abruptly cut off.

Riker's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Captain Picard just smiled, and he and Counselor Troi exchanged a meaningful glance.  Picard's estimation of Christina Wilson's command capabilities went up a notch. Rather than blindly following the order of someone who was only nominally her superior, she was consulting with her senior bridge crew, the mark of a good commander!  "Very good, Captain," Picard whispered to himself.

"Secure channel to Excalibur re-established, Captain," Worf said, just as Captain Wilson came back on screen.

"Captain Picard, is it your intention to try and bluff the Romulans into withdrawing?"

"That is correct, Captain."

"Very well, we concur.  Excalibur out!"

"She certainly has a mind of her own, doesn't she?" Riker joked.

"I would be very disappointed if she didn't, Number One," Picard replied softly.

"Excalibur is moving into position, Captain," Data informed them.

"Any action on the part of our friends, Mr Data?"

Riker asked.

Data looked confused by the Commander's query, and then comprehension dawned on his face. "Ah... you were being sarcastic, Commander.  By friends, you actually are referring to the Romulans, who are technically our enemies," he concluded.  "No, Commander, so far the Romulans have not responded to Excalibur's movement."

"Stay sharp, everyone," the Captain cautioned.

****

Captain Wilson drummed her fingers nervously on the side of her command chair and then, realizing what she was doing, forced her hand to be still. She was tense, but confident in the abilities of herself and her crew.  Picard's tactic is risky, she thought, for all we know there might be four other warbirds out there with their cloaking devices engaged.  As she surveyed each of the crew stations on the bridge, she wondered if these men and women had as much confidence in her, as she had in them.  Probably not, she admitted.  After all, she was the new, untried as far as they were concerned, Captain. They, on the other hand, were a unit, and that sometimes made things difficult for her.  She was their commanding officer, but she was not yet part of the team, or at least, that was the way she felt.  She knew that her command style was much different from the last Captain of the starship Excalibur, and that some of the crew considered her cold, but she wasn't sure how she could change that without compromising her authority.

"Captain, incoming transmission from the Enterprise," Lieutenant Ursal, Excalibur's Tactical Officer, informed her.

"On screen!"

Captain Picards image appeared instantly, and Wilson unconsciously leaned forward in anticipation. She was terribly attracted to this man, and that surprised her.  He was technically, old enough to be her father, but there was something magnetic in the way he carried himself and the cool authority he projected with every carefully chosen word he spoke.  She wished that she could get to know him better, maybe some of his style would rub off on her.

"Captain Wilson, are you ready to proceed?" Picard asked.

"Affirmative, Enterprise!" she replied. "Excalibur is awaiting your order."

"Very well, lock on phasers ten seconds from my mark.  Mark!"

"Understood!  Excalibur out!"  She turned to Lieutenant Ursal at Tactical.  "Target the command cupola of the Romulan vessel, Mr. Ursal."  She then rotated her command chair to face the Ops station. "S'dar, if the Romulan engages his cloaking device, go to optical sensors and try to stay with him as long as possible'"

"Yes, Captain," the Vulcan acknowledged, preparing his control board to comply with Wilson's order.

Wilson anxiously awaited the completion of the ten second countdown, and then... "Lock on phasers! Helm, stand-by for evasive maneuvers!"

"Aye, Sir!" Tactical and Helm acknowledged simultaneously.

As she waited for the Romulan ship to respond, Wilson could feel her heart rate increasing.  He could only do one of two things, she thought, run or fight!  For all their sakes, she hoped that the Romulan commander would choose to withdraw, but she knew that Romulans were unpredictable, some might call them inspired, tacticians.  That could mean, they were in for a rude surprise!

****

Jean-Luc Picard was not a man who was easily surprised.  He expected one of three things to happen when Enterprise, and Excalibur, locked their phasers on to the Romulan warbird.  One, the Romulans would hail them, demanding an explanation for Picard's agressive behavior.  Two, they would withdraw. Or three, they would open fire on one or the other, of the Federation starships.  They didn't exactly do any of these things, and that was a surprise!

Data was the first one on the bridge to notice that something was amiss.  "Captain, sensors are picking up a rapid build-up of power in the Romulan's warp engines."

Commander Riker came out of his seat to stand beside Data at the Ops station.  "He must be intending to withdraw, Data?"

"I do not believe so, Commander."

"The warbird is moving!" Lieutenant Worf snarled. "Straight at us, Captain!"

"Helm, evasive action!"  Picard slammed his hand down on the collision alarm located close to his
right hand, causing a loud klaxon to sound throughout the ship. 

"Too late," Data stated calmly.

The Romulan vessel instantly filled the main view screen... and stopped.  "All stop!" Riker yelled.

"All stop, Commander!" Ensign Rho screamed back at him.

"The Romulan vessel is too close to safely fire phasers, Captain!" Worf reported.  "The Enterprise would be destroyed by the explosive feedback!" The Klingon grunted in admiration, and almost inaudibly murmured, "A bold tactic."

Data analyzed the readings he was receiving from the Enterprise's main sensor array.  "The Romulan vessel is exactly one-hundred-fifty meters from the Enterprise, Captain.''  Data turned from his console to look at him.  "The Romulan commander cut it very close, Sir.  There is a ninety eight point two probability, that a collision should have occured."

Picard exhaled explosively at this piece of news. "Thank you for that bit of information, Mr. Data," he said, after taking a deep breath.

"Captain, after playing back the tactical display, the computer verifies that the Romulan vessel executed..." Worf paused, apparently savouring the moment, "the Picard Maneuver."  

There was a beep from the Communications Console at Worf's station.  "Commander McFadden requests permission to come to the bridge?"

Picard's first inclination was to deny the Starfleet Intelligence officer's request.  The last thing he needed was the distraction of someone from Starf leet Command second guessing his handling of the situation, but then he changed his mind.  Perhaps Commander McFadden might have some valuable input, as to why the Romulan acted in, what was for them, such an unusual manner.  "Permission granted, Mr. Worf."

"He is on the way, Captain," Worf replied.

Riker walked back to the command area of the bridge, and sat down.  "The Picard Maneuver?" he asked rhetorically, eyebrows raised in surprise. "An interesting choice, wouldn't you say, Captain?"

Picard smiled in grim amusement.  "An effective one, at any rate, Number One!"

****

Wilson, at first, couldn't believe her eyes. When the Romulan kicked in his warp engines, the Excalibur lost phaser lock, and in the brief instant when he came to a sudden stop, almost on top of the Enterprise, the Excalibur's targeting system couldn't decide which of the two Romulans appearing on the sensors was the real one, and which was the ghost image.  By the time the ghost disappeared, the warbird was too close to the Enterprise to engage. What she couldn't believe, was that neither the Enterprise nor the Romulan, had been blown to pieces in the collision which she was certain was going to occur!  It was the most terrifying thing she had ever witnessed.  She could only speculate on how the bridge crew of the Enterprise must have felt, watching the alien ship come crashing toward them!  "The Picard Maneuver!  How extraordinary that it should be used against the man who invented it!"

"My father used to say its always the unexpected that kills you in space," Commander Davis said in a subdued voice.  "That was the scariest thing I've ever seen"

"You'll get no argument from me on that, Mr. Davis!" Wilson emphatically agreed.  "Lieutenant Ursal, replay the tactical plot on the main viewer, please."

The bridge crew watched in awe as the entire millisecond spectacle was replayed on the main view screen.  The Captain watched her crew watch the playback.  The only one not visibly shaken by the near disaster was S'dar   That's to be expected, Wilson thought, Vulcans  were known for their equanimity in the face of danger.  In fact, the Vulcan did not seem to be watching the tactical replay at all, he was engrossed in manipulating the controls on his own sensor array.  "Have you found something interesting, S'dar?" she asked tersely.

"The second Romulan vessel has just used its transporter, Captain.  I believe they have boarded the two derelict vessels."

Wilson immediately activated the sensor repeater on the arm of her command chair.  The frequency spike from the operation of a transporter, at the co-ordinates of the second Romulan vessel, was readily visible.  "Lieutenant, open a secure channel to the Enterprise," she ordered.

"Channel open!"

"Enterprise, this is Excalibur, be advised we are detecting transporter activity from the Romulan vessel on station in the Neutral Zone."

****

"Roger Excalibur, we copy your transmission, Picard out."  Picard signalled to Worf to close the channel to the other starship.  Commander McFadden came on to the bridge in time to hear the last transmission from Excalibur, and he was not happy about it.

"So Captain, it appears as if we have lost the opportunity to study Romulan technology, and find out what they know about the Inter-Planetary Guild!"

"Commander, as I told you at our first meeting, the computer records of the Romulan cruiser's no longer exist.  It is doubtful we could have learned anything useful about the Guild from salvaging the two derelicts.  As for Romulan technology, the Enterprise is close enough to a Romulan warbird to count its observation windows!"  Picard gestured toward the main viewscreen

McFadden turned to follow Picard's gesture, and for the first time, noticed the Romulan vessel which filled the floor-to-ceiling viewer at the front of the bridge.  "My God!  How close is he?"

"One hundred and fifty meters from our forward shields.  He has dropped his, in order to get as close as possible," Picard replied.  "They will not respond to my repeated attempts to hail them, but I get the distinct impression that they are not interested in engaging us."

"They are in Federation territory!  We have the right to blow them out of space!"

Picard shook his head in disbelief.  "We may, theoretically, have the right to destroy them for an incursion into our territory, but at the moment we do not have the capability to do so.  The Romulan commander has precluded our using force, unless of course you are in favour of destroying the Enterprise as well, Commander!"

McFadden seemed to actually be considering this scenario, Riker thought with dismay.  The man must be insane!  He looked at Deanna to see how she was reacting to McFadden's grating personality, and was surprised to find she didn't seem to be paying any attention to what the Commander was saying. "Deanna, what's the matter?"

Picard and McFadden both turned at Riker's question, and the Captain quickly realized that something was very wrong with his Ships Counselor.  Her face went suddenly pale, and her eyes widened in shock.

"Incoming message from the Romulan vessel, Captain," Worf announced.

"On screen!"

"Audio only, Captain!" replied the Klingon, keying his communications console to allow the bridge crew to hear the message.

"... Federation vessel Enterprise, clear the area!  You are in grave danger!  Repeat... Federation vessels, you are in grave danger!  Clear this area'"

"Captain!" Counselor Troi's voice was filled with fear.  "The Romulans are very agitated!"

The Captain was unsure what to do with this information, the Enterprise sensors were not picking up anything unusual.  Then again, the Romulans had been acting in anything but typical fashion, and that was unusual. Picard was just about to order a deep-sensor scan of the Romulan warbird, when it engaged it's cloaking device and disappeared from the Enterprise viewscreen. "Mr. Data!" Picard ordered.

"Switching to optical scan, Captain.  Both warbirds have engaged cloaking device, and are proceeding away at high warp, course zero five zero, mark zero one zero."  Data frowned as a sensor reading caught his attention.  "Captain, they have left their away-team on one of the derelicts."

"That's odd," murmured McFadden.  "Why would they do that?" he asked of no-one in particular.

"That I do not know, Commander, but I intend to find out!" resolved Picard. "Number One, take a security team to Transporter Room Three.  Data, how many personnel in the Romulan away team?"

"According to my sensors, Captain, the Romulan team has three members.  Only one of them is armed," he added.

"Number One, instruct Chief O'Brian to beam the two unarmed members of the Romulan away team, to Transporter Room Three.  The armed Romulan is to be relieved of his weapon in transit, and transported directly to one of the security cells."

"Yes, Sir!"  Piker got up to head to the turbo-lift.

"Captain," Worf interupted, "Permission to accompany Commander Piker to the Transporter Room."  He turned to Piker, who was halfway to the turbo-lift.  "No offence, Commander," the Kungon growled, "But even and unarmed Pomulan is much stronger than a human!"

Picard nodded in the affirmative.  "Agreed! Proceed Lieutenant!"

***

Chapter Four

Riker and Lieutenant Worf entered the turbo-lift, and Riker ordered, "Transporter Room Three."

The two officers rode in silence, each of them preoccupied with their own thoughts.  Worf was concentrating on his pathological hatred of all things Romulan.  Ever since he was orphaned at the age of six, revenge against the people he knew were responsible for the death of his parents, was of paramount concern to him.  It was a matter of honour, and no amount of association with his human crewniates could convince him that forgiveness was an admirable attribute.  Forgiving ones enemies was the path chosen by the weak, he thought with a scowl.  No Klingon warrior could ever forgive the Romulans for their treachery, and although Worf was a Starfleet Officer, he was also a Klingon warrior!

Riker, noticing the Security Chief's expression, attempted to find out what was on his mind.  "You don't like Romulans very much, do you, Lieutenant?"

The Klingon's scowl deepened.  "I will not allow my personal feelings to interfere in the performance of my duty, Commander."

"I never suggested that you would, Worf.  If I thought that, you would be relieved of duties immediately!"

Worf was silent for a moment, and then he said, "May I speak frankly, Commander?"

"Always!

"I believe that this warning the Romulans have given us, may be a trick.  Deception is one of the cornerstones of Romulan tactical doctrine. I suspect that this entire mission may be a fool's errand!"

Riker digested the Klingon's statement, and then asked, "So, you don't necessarily believe
that this Inter-Planetary Guild still exists?"

"I find it more plausible to suspect that it is the Romulans themselves making mischief, as an excuse to infringe on Federation territory."

"You may be right, Lieutenant.  Hopefully, the Romulan away-team will provide us with some answers."

The turbo-lift came to a stop, and the two officers walked out the door and across the hall to Transporter Room Three.  Chief O'Brian was expecting them.

"The armed member of the Romulan team has already been beamed to the security cells, Commander.  I'm holding the other two in the transport buffer and can finish the transport at your discretion."

Riker nodded in acknowledgement of O'Brian's report  "Very well, proceed!"

O'Brian stroked the transporter console, and the soft hum of the transporter beam filled the room, as the two Romulans began to materialize on the platform.  Worf drew his phaser, before the Romulans were fully formed, Riker noted.  He obviously was not about to take any chances!

The two aliens did not seem to be particularly surprised at materializing on board the Enterprise, but it was hard for a human to judge such things. Although more expressive than Vulcans, the Romulan race could be quite good at suppressing any outward show of emotion.  Riker knew that if he himself were suddenly beamed aboard an alien vessel, he too would be wearing his best poker face.

One of the Romulans was the first to speak, in an extremely melodic feminine voice, which was at odds with her severe looking expression.    "Commander William T. Riker, First Officer of the Federation starship Enterprise.  Am I to assume we are aboard the Enterprise?"

Riker attempted to cover his surprise with a witticism.  "I didn't realize I was so famous among the fairer sex of the Romulan Empire?"

The Romulan officer allowed herself a small smile.  "I have been fully briefed, Commander. Unfortunately for you, your reputation in areas other than official ones, has not yet made itself known in the Romulan Empire."  She looked around the Transporter Room, and her expression changed. "Where is my other officer?" she demanded.

"We thought it best to beam the armed member of your party direct to a holding facility.  He is quite safe I assure you."

She held Riker's gaze for an instant, as if attempting to measure the truth of this statement, and then her eyes moved to Lieutenant Worf, who still had his phaser pointed straight at her chest. "Ah, so it is true, the Enterprise does have a trained Klingon on board.  I am surprised you do not have such an animal tightly leashed, Commander!"

The barb did not have the desired effect.  Worf's face remained impassive, and his phaser never wavered from it's target.

Riker appreciated Worf's restraint, he knew that Klingon's were easily offended, and the Romulan had gone out of her way to insult him.  Strange, Riker thought, the enmity between Romulans and Klingons, consider;ing that the two species had been allies for generations prior to the Federation making peace with the Klingon Empire.  Reason enough, he supposed, for the Romulans to dislike their traditional comrades-in-arms!

Ignoring the Romulan's remark to Worf, Riker asked coldly, "And you are?"

"I am Commander Srelal, by your ranking system I am First Officer of the Warbird Ko'Luer."  She
turned to the officer standing next to her on the platform, "And this is Centurion Saalesh, a computer specialist.

For the first time, Riker looked at the second Romulan, also a female, and he was struck by the dissimilarity of the two aliens.  Where Srelal was tall, and filled out her uniform; Saalesh was small, almost delicate, and her uniform looked like it was two sizes too large for her.  The Romulan Commander wore her black hair in a severe military style, while Saalesh's hung loose to her waist,and was so dark as to appear almost blue in colour.  Her features were finely chiselled, her skin colour unusually light for a Romulan, dark upswept eyebrows gave her a singularly exotic look, and her eyes were... gold! That was the only colour he could think of to describe them, like honey.  For the second time in as many days, Riker had met a woman who was breathtakingly beautiful, and he was a man who appreciated such things.

Srelal watched with interest, Riker was clearly captivated by the Centurion, and this did not displease her.  The orders she received upon embarking on this mission were quite specific, there was to be full co-operation with any Federation representatives that arrived in the area of operations, provided of course that such co-operation could not be avoided!  If the little twit Saalesh could keep Riker occupied, so much the better.

"Saalesh, a beautiful name, Centurion," Riker said, walking over to the platform and offering her his hand.

The Centurion hesitated, and then reluctantly took the human's hand.  Saalesh found Riker's skin to be cool to the touch, a result of his much lower body temperature.  She allowed him to support her slightly, as she stepped off the platform, and then quickly disengaged her hand from his.  "Thank you, Commander."

"Now that mutual introductions have been made, Commander Riker, perhaps you can tell us why we have been beamed aboard your vessel?" Srelal asked.

Riker tore his eyes from the lovely face of Centurion Saalesh, and tried to concentrate on the Romulan Commander's question.  "When we received the warning from the warbird, and then they disappeared, we discovered that your away team was still on the derelict cruiser.  We concluded that you might be in some danger, and so Captain Picard ordered that you be beamed aboard."

Srelal felt her blood run cold.  "Warning... what warning, Commander?"

Riker caught the sudden change in the Romulan's tone of voice, and that worried him.  He found it incredible that the Romulan's could have abandoned their away team without warning, but if he read the Commander's question correctly, that is exactly what happened.  "You mean to tell me your people didn't notify you that they were leaving?"

Srelal realized she was at a severe disadvantage. If what the human said was true, then she and her two person team were the only representatives of the Romulan Empire present.  Damn that coward Talar! What kind of a Captain would leave members of his crew so exposed, this close to enemy territory! She really had no choice but to try and bluff her way out of this situation.  "Of course they notified us of their withdrawal!  I am surprised that they notified you, however!"

Rifler let that line of questioning drop, for the moment, but he still needed to know what the Romulans were trying to warn them about.  "What happened to your two cruisers, Commander?  What is the nature of the danger we face?"

Srelal thought about the consequences to the Empire, and to her own career, if her mission were not successful, and decided on the spot to actively enlist the aid of the Federation.  "I do not wish to repeat myself, Commander.  Therefore, it would be best if your senior staff were all briefed at the same time."

Riker nodded, "Very well, come with me please." Riker started out the door, and the two Romulans followed, with Worf bringing up the rear, his phaser still covering the Romulan Commander.

****

Captain Picard walked into the Observation Lounge, having been summoned there by Commander Riker's message that the Romulan Commander was willing to co-operate with the Federation.  Picard had informed Captain Wilson, and she had beamed over to the Enterprise with her First Officer, leaving the Vulcan, S'dar. in command of Excalibur.  Commander McFadden had insisted on attending the meeting also, and Picard had relented, although with some misgivings concerning the intelligence officer's tact.  Dealings with the Romulan Empire were always delicate affairs, and a carelessly turned phrase had the potential to ignite an inter-stellar war.

Also present at the briefing were Counselor Troi, Lieutenant Worf, Dr. Crusher, Lieutenant Commander Data, and Lieutenant Commander LaForge.

Picard took his seat at the head of the conference table, and called the meeting to order.  "Proceed, Number One."

"Captain, this is Commander Srelal, of the Romulan warbird Ko'Luer, and Centurion Saalesh, a computer expert.  They were two of the members of the away team we beamed off the Romulan cruiser, the third is presently in one of our holding cells.  Srelal has agreed to tell us everything she knows about the recent disturbances in the Neutral Zone."  He turned to the Romulan Commander, "Commander Srelal, please proceed."

Srelal was very conscious of the hostility inherent in such a situation, and was determined to win the trust of the Federation officers.  She only hoped that her superiors would understand the necessity of what she was about to do.  She addressed her remarks to Captain Picard, a man who was well known to the Romulan High Command.  "Captain, the Romulan Empire is under attack. For the past seven months, the Empire has been at war with an unknown enemy. This enemy has an incredibly sophisticated technology, and the High Command believes that they are being helped by traitors within the Empire."

Picard wondered if the Romulan was not being a little disingenuous with this statement.  Picard was well aware that things were not going well for the government on the Romulan Home-World, having just returned from a secret mission to that planet, but the likelihood of Romulans somehow being in contact with elements of the Inter-Planetary Guild struck him as being remote.  He briefly considered attempting to contact Ambassador Spock, who he knew was still on Romulus, but then realized that such a move could needlessly endanger the fledgling reunification movement that Spock was helping to foster.  "Commander, this unknown enemy you speak of, what were the circumstances of the Empire's first contact with them?"

"Seven months ago, the cruiser Ta'Llam was conducting a routine survey of a star system on the extreme edge of our territory, on the other side of the Empire," Srelal continued.  "The Ta'Llam came upon a derelict spacecraft and, as the Captain decided it might pose a danger to shipping in that area, it was decided that it would be best to destroy the alien craft.  As soon as the Ta'Llam powered up it's weapons system, the derelict opened fire, seriously damaging the cruiser, and killing it's Captain."

"Was the Ta'Llam able to escape?" Riker asked.

"Yes,Commander, the cruiser did escape.  When the Captain was killed, I took command and managed to evade the enemy vessel.  They did not pursue us."

Captain Picard then asked, "Didn't you scan the derelict for life signs before trying to destroy it?"

"Yes, Captain," Srelal replied.  "The aliens apparently use some kind of shielding device, making it impossible to deep-scan their vessels.  There were no life signs present to our scanners because of this shielding, although even if life-signs had been detected it is doubtful that would have made a difference.  The vessel was in Romulan territory, we had every right to destroy it!"

The Captain sighed.  "A Starfleet Officer recently advised me to take the same action regarding a Romulan vessel infringing on Federation territory, Commander." Picard said, glancing in McFadden's direction.  "I chose to ignore his recommendation!"

"Perhaps that is because you are not a Romulan, Picard!  We take our territorial integrity very seriously!" Srelal shot back.

"It looks to me, Commander," Riker put in, "that you launched an unprovoked attack on an unidentified vessel, and they responded by defending themselves!"

"I suppose that is one way to look at it, Commander Riker, but for all the Federation double-talk, under the same circumstances I seriously doubt that a starship Captain would have handled the situation any differently!"

"I tend to agree with, Commander Srelal, Captain," Data interrupted.  "There have been many instances in Federation history where we have taken aggressive actions that could be construed as being unprovoked."

Srelal was surprised by the android's statement. She hadn't expected support from one of Picard's own officers, but she welcomed it nonetheless. This one speaks his mind, Srelal thought, I wonder if Picard realizes how valuable that is.  Extraordinary, that an artificial life-form could have such personality, and strength of character, to challenge a senior officer such as Riker!  "Thank you, Commander Data. It will do us little good to criticize each other's defence policies.  If we are to solve this problem we must co-operate, these aliens pose as much threat to the Federation as they do to the Romulan Empire."

"I take it that you have never actually seen these aliens, Srelal.  What makes you think they might pose a threat to the Federation?" Commander McFadden asked quietly.

Srelal thought she detected a note of urgency in the Commander's voice when he asked her the question, and that gave her pause for thought.  She wasn't that familiar with human body language, so she couldn't be sure, but it seemed as if the other Starf leet Officers tensed when he posed it.  What is going on here, she thought   Do they know more about this than they're letting on?  "The encounters between the aliens and our ships have been steadily moving toward Federation space.  It is therefore reasonable to assume that you will encounter them yourselves. They do not respond to any attempts at communication, and have destroyed over twenty of our vessels. Therefore, Commander, the Federation must assume that these are hostiles and act accordingly."

"Could it be that they do not respond to hails because they are unable to receive your communications?" Data asked.

"We have tried all known frequencies," Srelal replied.  "What is it you are getting at, Mr. Data?"

"Simply this  Commander, if your communications devices are not compatible with theirs, they might not have understood that you were attempting to communicate."

Srelal thought about what the android was saying. Could it be possible that the aliens had not understood our repeated efforts to communicate for what they were?  "You almost sound as if you know for a fact that this is the case, Commander?"

Data looked down the table at Captain Picard, asking a silent question of his Commanding Officer. Picard slowly nodded in acquiescence to Data's unspoken request.  "Commander Srelal, we have reason to believe that the aliens at war with the Romulan Empire, are actually surviving elements of a human expedition which set out from Earth over three centuries ago."

Deanna watched the two Romulans for a reaction to Data's revelation.  The senior officer, Srelal, looked genuinely shocked.  The young Centurion was harder to read, but Deanna could tell that she too was surprised by Data's statement.  Saalesh was the most striking Vulcanoid she had ever seen, and Deanna wondered about the Centurion's background. Could it be that she is not a full-blooded Romulan? Aside from the delicately pointed ears, she could easily be mistaken for a human of some exotic origin, and she did not have the pale green pigmentation usual in a Vulcanoid species.

"Are you telling me, Commander, that these alien aggressors are actually human?" Srelal asked dangerously.

Captain Picard replied for Data.  "That is the assumption we have been working under, Commander Srelal.  However, I must stress that the Federation has had no contact with these people, and we cannot be sure that they are in fact who we think they are!"

"I am sure the High Command will find that most reassuring, Captain!" Srelal said contemptuously.

Picard steepled his fingers in front of his face, and contemplated the Romulan Commander silently for a moment before replying.  "Srelal, we have told you this because the Federation is concerned that our being  here not be misconstrued.  We have had nothing to do with the actions undertaken by these humans, although by your own admission, their actions seem to be motivated primarily by concerns for self-defence."  The Captain paused, as if trying to collect his thoughts before continuing.  "These men and women were unjustly driven from their ancestral world, by a political climate that suspected anyone who was an innovator.  They are, or at least were, scientists and engineers.  I doubt that they are even aware that such a thing as the Romulan Empire exists!"

"You honestly expect me to believe that humans of three centuries ago, before you even had the capability for deep-space travel, invented this unbelievable technology, able to withstand concerted disruptor attacks, and were driven from their planet! How, Picard?  We have not been able to drive them from the Romulan Empire using weaponry that twenty-first century humans could not have imagined in their wildest nightmares!"

Deanna caught the admission that things were not going well for the Romulans in their conflict with the Guild, and realized that the Captain had as well.  Judging from what Srelal was saying, the Guild's technology must be extraordinary.  Even the Enterprise could not withstand repeated attacks from the weapons carried by Romulan warships.  "Commander Srelal," Deanna broke in, "Isn't it true that these encounters have been steadily moving across Romulan space toward the Federation?"

"That is correct, Counselor, but it doesn't change the tact that acts of war have been committed against the Empire!"

"Nevertheless Commander, doesn't it indicate that these people are actually trying to leave Romulan space?"

"Possibly," Srelal admitted.

"Then why don't you call off your warships and allow them to leave!" Deanna urged.

Srelal was clearly skeptical.  "Surely you realize Counselor, that such decisions are not made by lowly Commanders   That is a task for the High Command.  My orders are to seek out the aliens and destroy them, and that is exactly what I intend to do!"

Deanna turned to the other Romulan.  "What about you Saalesh?  Do you agree with this policy of seeking out the aliens and destroying them?"

All eyes turned to the Centurion, and it was evident that she was not comfortable with the attention. Saalesh looked down the table at the Captain of the Enterprise, and came to a decision that in other circumstances would have meant her instant execution. "No Counselor, I do not agree with this policy, but I am just a junior officer, without any influence whatsoever."

And not likely to gain any with that attitude, Picard thought grimly.  "Commander Srelal, seeing as you do not presently have a ship, I doubt that you will be destroying anyone in the immediate future. Furthermore, if the people you are pursuing cross into Federation space, they will come under our protection. I will not tolerate any further incursions by Romulan warships into our territory!  Is that clear, Commander?"

"Perfectly clear, Picard.  However, I must warn you that we will do whatever we feel is necessary to avenge the deaths of our comrades!"

"Do what you must, Srelal," Picard replied, "But do not make the mistake of commiting an act of war!"

Commander Riker listened to the Captain and the Romulan officer exchange threats with growing concern.  There was something missing here, he thought.  How could members of the Inter-Planetary Guild be discovered on the other side of the Romulan Empire?  How did they get there without passing through Romulan space? The Romulans were exploring their section of the galaxy five hundred years before the first rocket propelled spacecraft were built on Earth, there was no way anyone could pass through the Empire, even three hundred years ago, without being detected.  It didn't make sense!  Riker was also a little skeptical about the weaponry Srelal described.  She made a valid point, if the Guild ships were able to withstand the kind of punishment the Romulans had dealt them, how could they be driven from Earth in the early twenty-first century?

"Captain," Riker asked, "Is it possible that the vessels Commander Srelal describes are not from the Guild?  Just because the weapons used on the Romulan cruisers were once used against a vessel on Earth, does not necessarily mean they were use by the same people."

The Captain turned to Data.   "Mr. Data, what is the probability of such similar technology being developed independently by two widely separated cultures?"

Data accessed his memory banks for instances where such a thing had occurred, and calculated the odds based on the historical record.  "Actually,the probability of such a thing occurring is quite low, Captain. Although it is a matter of historical record that certain scientific breakthroughs have been simultaneously achieved by more than one culture, this generally happens with what could be considered basic technology. The warp-drive coil for instance, was first used in Vulcan scout-craft, but we know that the Klingons, the Romulans, and others made the breakthrough at virtually the same time.  Also, we have since discovered irrefutable evidence that several ancient civilizations must have had faster than light vessels, which leads to the supposition that they must have had warp-drive as well."

"However," he continued, "with the technology we are dealing with in this case, there are several factors which would tend to vitiate this possibility.  Foremost among them, is the fact that this type of weapons system has been discarded by every scientific team who has ever explored its possibilities, from all the civilizations that we know of.  With the exception of the Inter-Planetary Guild.  The charged photon, particle beam, at the densities required to destroy a vessel, is inherently unstable.  The unique construction of the Guild spacecraft, where they have combined the propulsion and weapons systems in to one inter-active containment field, is a work of true genius, and the odds of the circumstances which led to this breakthrough occuring in some other place are on the order of one trillion to one."

"I trust that answers your question, Number One." 

"Yes Captain," Riker replied with a smile.

"Srelal, why would one of your ships issue a warning to the Enterprise, advising us to clear the area?" Picard enquired.

Srelal knew the answer to this question, but was loathe to inform a Starflect Captain.  Military secrets were something which was not in her purview to discuss with Federation personnel, and she had already strained the bounds of her mission parameters by holding discussions with the starship officers.  However, her compatriots had seen fit to leave her and her research team on
their own, without bothering to inform them that they were leaving.  In effect, abandoning them to their own devices.  Srelal could well imagine how her Captain would explain her disappearance, no doubt he would say she had died bravely in the face of the enemy!  Srelal decided that the only way to salvage the situation was to co-operate fully with Picard, at least within the bounds of what was necessary to assure her own survival.  "In all likelihood Captain Picard, the warbirds have deployed a series of proximity detonated, gravitic mines.  They are designed to explode when they sense a mass of sufficient density or come into contact with a ships anti-collision shields."

Captain Wilson looked as if she was about to leap across the table and throttle the Romulan officer. "My God!  That is a flagrant violation of the Neutral Zone Treaty!  Are you people insane?"

Srelal graced the young Captain with a scathing sneer.  "Defending ones territory is hardly an act of insanity, Captain!"

"You aren't defending your territory Commander, you are committing a hostile act which endangers the lives of Federation personnel!" Wilson fumed.

"When this mission was planned Captain, it was decided that the possibility of Federation interference was remote.  It is not our fault that the Federation saw fit to come charging across space to confront us!"

Picard was forced to challenge this statement. "Surely you realized Commander, that we would not allow Romulan warships to approach this close to Federation territory without coming to investigate?"

Srelal smiled engagingly.  "Really, Captain Picard, you know as well as I do, that had you not been sitting here when we arrived, you never would have detected our actions!"

Picard had to admit that this was probably true, aside from the fact that the Romulans didn't positively know how sensitive the Enterprise sensors were, and he had no intention of divulging any information in that regard.  "So, what you are saying Commander, is that the two cruisers were tasked to carry out this operation, and they were attacked before completing it."

Damn! Srelal thought.  I have to be careful with this man, he is far too accurate with his deductions! "I didn't say that Picard."

"Nevertheless Commander, you certainly inferred that was the case, and if that is true, then it follows that the enemy you were attempting to snare in this trap is already one step ahead of you.  Therefore, deploying these mines could only be directed at stopping the Federation from crossing into the Neutral Zone to challenge your treaty violation." Picard paused, and his conversational tone of voice turned cold. "That, is an act of war!"

Srelal was losing ground, and credibility, with the officers from the two Federation starships. She had to find some way to salvage the situation before it deteriorated any further.  "If we were intending to go to war, Picard, neither of us would be sitting here having this conversation.  We would have opened fire as soon as we decloaked!"

"A tactical error on your part, perhaps," Picard replied.

"I will not dignify that comment with a reply, Captain."  Srelal took a deep breath before proceeding. "I am willing to give you access to all the records we have in our possession."  She turned to the second Romulan officer.  "Centurion, you will assist the Federation officers to download your records into their own computer."  And then, turning back to Picard, she continued, "I will also give your tactical officer the sub-space frequencies by which we track the position of our mines.  It will be up to you to decode which frequencies are actually being used."

Finally, we seem to be getting somewhere, thought Picard.  "Very well, Commander.  Until we plot the positions of your mines, we will be holding station. I have no desire to accidentally blunder into one. Lieutenant Worf," he continued, "Contact the Hood and inform them of the potential danger.  Advise Captain DeSoto to delay his arrival until we have the situation in hand."

"Yes, Sir!"

Picard turned back to Srelal.  "By the way Commander, Mr. Worf is our Tactical Officer, you will be working with him."

The Romulan bit back the insult that sprang to her lips, instead she smiled sweetly.  "I understand Captain Picard.  I am sure we can contain our mutual hostility for a few hours."

Worf just grunted, the only response he felt the Romulan's obvious sarcasm warranted.

Picard smiled in return,  "I am sure you can, Commander."  His next remarks were addressed to the second Romulan.  "Centurion Saalesh, you will be working with Lieutenant Commander Data."

Saalesh was pleased.  The android fascinated her, and she relished the opportunity for closer study. "Very well, Captain Picard."

Picard took one final look around the conference table.  "Well, if no-one has anything to add, this meeting is adjourned.  Counselor Troi, Commander Riker, report to my ready-room at your convenience.  I have some things I'd like to go over with you."  Hearing no objections, he concluded, "Dismissed!"

***

Chapter Five

Saalesh and Data were loading the Romulan computer records into the Enterprise core memory, and as surprising as it was to both of them, they found that they enjoyed working with each other.  Data's previous contact with Romulans had usually been in a confrontational role, and although that had not been entirely the case when he recently accompanied Captain Picard to Romulus, this was his first chance to observe a Romulan scientist at work.  He relished the opportunity to satisfy his natural curiosity about this enigmatic race.

Saalesh, was in turn, trying to satisfy her own curiosity about the android officer.  At first, she assumed that the rank of Lieutenant Commander was a kind of honorary title, but after watching Data at work, giving orders and receiving reports from junior staff, she realized that there was nothing honorary about the rank, and that amazed her!  She couldn't imagine an artificial life-form being given any status at all in her society, let alone the responsibility that was involved with being Second Officer of the Enterprise!  It said a great deal about the Federation that such a thing was possible here, and it firmed her resolve to carry out a plan that she had been considering for some time, but never before had the opportunity to execute.

"How is it possible that you were able to retrieve these records from the derelicts, when our sensor scans indicated that the core memory areas of both vessels were damaged beyond repair?" Data asked. 

Saalesh knew that her superiors would not appreciate her giving the Starfleet officer a truthful answer to this question, but she felt that if this working relationship was to have any chance of success, she must be honest.  "Each of the senior officers aboard one of our ships carries a personal recording device. It is primarily used as evidence against those who are accused of disobeying a superior officer's orders, assuming of course that such an accusation is not followed by instant execution."

Data digested this information, and then filed it for future reference.  "I am surprised that such a large amount of data is available from so limited a source."

"Actually,the memory capacity of these devices is quite large.  We have discovered a method of compressing visual images to the point where they only take up a fraction of the space used by more conventional memory architecture."

"Interesting," Data mused.  "The Federation was unaware of this development."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Data, there is a great deal going on in the Romulan Empire that the Federation is unaware of."

Data wondered about the rather ambiguous nature of this comment.  Was the Centurion trying to make a point?  Data knew more perhaps, than most people living in the Federation, about the non-monolithic nature of the Romulan Empire.  There was dissent among the ordinary people that was not common knowledge among Data's peers, and that was the whole point behind Ambassador Spock's personal mission to the Romulan home-world, a mission which Data and Captain Picard had played a small role in furthering.

"I believe we are ready to view the visual records Mr. Data.  I have written a decryption program which will allow us to access individual files without having to use the Romulan access codes."

"Very well, Saalesh.  I shall inform Commander Riker.  I am sure he will wish to view the records prior to our report to the Captain."  Data tapped his combadge.  "Data to Commander Riker."

The response was immediate.  "Riker here, go ahead Data."

"We are ready to view the Romulan record of the attack on the two cruisers, Commander."

"On my way, Riker out!"

Riker arrived a few moments later and stood behind Data as he keyed in the primary access code to the Romulan record file.  "The first record is taken from the Captain of the Romulan cruiser D'Tal."

The monitor showed the bridge of the Romulan vessel, from the perspective of it's Captain, there was no sound.

"Can we get an audio track on this visual, Mr. Data?" Riker asked.

Saalesh answered the question before Data could reply.  "Yes Commander.  Computer... co-ordinate audio, visual record D'Tal One."

"Audio available... universal translator on line," the computer acknowledged.

"..... Captain, we have reached the designated co-ordinates, all scans indicate no activity in assigned sector."

"Very well, commence mine deployment.  Message to Command, advise them of our arrival. We will complete our deployment in one point two hours celestial."

"Acknowledge Captain."

"The record is routine for the next hour, Commander," Saalesh said.

"Alright, lets move ahead then."

"Computer," Data said, "Move forward to 16:01, file chronography.

"Captain, sensors detect spatial harmonic on bearing zero zero zero, mark three two zero, range fifteen thousand meters."

"Visual!  Full sensor sweep at those co-ordinates.  Prepare to engage cloaking device!"

"Mine deployment is not complete, Captain."

"Suspend deployment!  Tactical, what's out there?"

"Sensors unable to lock on to anything at those co-ordinates, switching to optical... On screen!"

"...Shhaa!  Engage cloaking device! Helm, evasive now!  Full shields forward!

"We are cloaked, Captain.  D'Tam has been hit, forward shields buckled, they report they are unable to cloak!"

"Then they may have the honour of covering our withdrasral!"

"Freeze playback!" Riker ordered.  He leaned forward to examine the frozen image on the computer monitor.

"D'Tam was the name of the other vessel, Commander," Saalesh said quietly.  "The D'Tal abandoned them."

Riker turned to look at the young Romulan, and was surprised to find that her eyes had filled with tears.  They look so much like Vulcans, Piker thought, but no Vulcan he knew would ever show an emotional reaction, even over the loss of the five hundred crewmen of the cruiser D'Tam.  "Was there someone aboard the D'Tam that you were especially close to, Centurion?" he asked.

Saalesh dashed the tears from her cheeks, and brought herself under control.  "No Commander, but
I grieve for the senseless loss of life, and am angered by the cowardice of the D'Tal's Captain.  Especially, if as Mr. Data suggests, it has all been a colossal misunderstanding."

Riker nodded sympathetically, and then shifted his attention back to the image frozen on the monitor. "Can you increase the magnification of this image Data, and bring up some more detail?"

"Certainly Commander," Data replied.  He keyed in a new command on the computer terminal.  Although Data had the ability to interface directly with the computer or speak far faster than any other crew member could understand, he found that this had an unsettling affect on his crewmates, and so he found it easier to use the touchpad, which most people found, even at the speed he input commands, less intimidating. It was another one of the many personal compromises he made, so that he might better fit in among his, for the most part, less capable human friends.

The view of the Romulan cruiser's bridge shifted, zooming in on the main viewscreen, and bringing into sharp focus the vessel hanging in the middle of it. The ship was unlike any Riker had seen before.  It bore a superficial resemblance to the smaller craft on board the Excalibur, but it was much larger, and possessed several features that were not present on the scout-type vessels.

The whole ship was surrounded by a visible corona, deep blue in colour, with a clearly defined edge of brilliant crimson.  At the bottom of the spacecraft, there was a bright green light, giving the impression that it was hanging below the vessel itself.

"Data, what is that green light?" Riker asked. "Unknown Commander.  Possibly a scanning device?"

"Start a frame by frame advance, Data.  Let's see if we can catch their weapons system in action."

As Data complied with Riker's order, the image on the monitor underwent a subtle change.  The edge of the corona changed from crimson to yellow, and the green light hanging below the spacecraft abruptly went dark.  In the next frame, the edge went back to crimson while the corona changed from blue to silver, and the green light was back.  One frame later, the corona was back to it's original colour, the edge was still crimson, and the green light shone brightly.

"This is truly fascinating, Commander." Data said. "I believe what we are witnessing is the visual manifestation of a hyper-dynamic warp field.  The crisp edge of the corona would suggest a dual-field configuration, each of the fields being of the same polarity, but exhibiting characteristics of an opposing directional shift."  Data stepped the record back by one frame. "The change in colour might indicate a variation in the density of the outer field, perhaps as the result of a disruptor strike from one of the Romulan warships."

"So what you're saying Data, is that the vessel's shields automatically compensate for the intensity of the weapons being directed against it," Riker extrapolated.

"That would be my hypothesis, Commander."

Riker thought about this theory for a moment. If what Data hypothesized was true  then not only was the Guild vessel equipped with an extraordinary defensive capability, it possessed the only propulsion system in the known galaxy that was generated uniformly around the entire spacecraft.  How in the world could someone born one hundred years before the invention of the warp-drive engineer such a vessel? he wondered. It was readily apparent to him how it could be done today, but three hundred years of scientific discoveries lay between the time the Guildsmen left Earth and now.  Even today, he thought grimly, it would not be easy to actually build such a vessel. Although the theoretical principles of hyper-warp drive were widely accepted as feasible, there were elemental problems to which solutions had not been found, chief among these being the uniformity of the generated fields.  "The hyper-dynamic warp field, Data.  How could they generate it so uniformly?  According to our history books, there would have been minimal amounts of anti-matter available'in the early twenty-first century, and that was supposedly used for pure research purposes and was tightly controlled."

Data accessed his deep-core memory circuits for a clue which might help him to answer Commander Riker's question.  He found nothing which would indicate that such a thing were possible in the second decade of the twenty-first century, but he knew that there had to be something, otherwise the Starfleet Admiralty file would not have made the speculation that the Guild might have possessed the hyper-warp drive.

"I have no information in regard to your question Commander," he said, after recognizing that a search through his own memory banks had proved to be fruitless. "Considering the caliber of the design team that Dr. McLaughlin assembled, however," he continued."It is possible that they were able to overcome this apparently insurmountable obstacle."

Saalesh studied the monitor's display closely. If what the humans were speculating about were true, it would be an astounding leap forward.  A hyper-warp drive! she thought in astonishment.  We had no idea of the implications!  And all the fools in the High Command wanted to do was blow them out of space! How typical of her society, to destroy what they didn't understand in a hysterical display of xenophobia.  Her father was right, reunification was not practical until the leadership of the Romulan Empire was purged!

"Commander Riker," Saalesh began, "I would strongly caution you to keep this information about the hyperwarp drive from reaching the ears of Commander Srelal."

Riker was surprised to hear this idea voiced by the Romulan junior officer.  "Isn't it customary in the Romulan Imperial Fleet to keep one's senior officer's fully informed, Centurion?"

Saalesh smiled bitterly, "Not necessarily... I have no desire to launch our two peoples on the path to war, Commander.  Srelal has no such compunction, she would do anything to further; what she perceives as, the greater glory of the Empire!"

"Are we to understand, Centurion," Data asked, "that you believe your commanding officer is capable of using this information to encourage her superiors to launch an attack against the Federation?"

"In all these years of strife, have you learned nothing about us?" Saalesh replied.  "Of course she is capable of starting a war!  Can you imagine what will happen to your precious Federation if the High Command of the Romulan Empire is able to send warships into the Sol system at hyper-warp speeds?  With our cloaking technology, and this propulsion system, we could obliterate Earth before you even knew we were there!"

"Starfleet Command is cognizant of that possibility, Centurion!  I am curious to know why that idea should so horrify a Romulan officer of the Imperial Fleet?" Riker asked, closely watching Saalesh for her reaction. 

Saalesh thought carefully, before replying, "Not all of us are hostile to the other species in the galaxy, Commander. Some of us might even harbour hopes of seeing a reunification with our Vulcan cousins, who are one of the founding races of your Federation."

Riker was stunned by the Centurion's revelation. He was aware of Ambassador Spock's mission to Romulus, and of the reunification movement, but he had no idea that the movement was so widespread as to involve officers of the Imperial Fleet!  Were these feelings confined to the junior ranks, or was there widespread dissatisfaction within the Romulan war fleet?  The answer to that question could be of incalculable value if a confrontation was to occur.  Riker was on uncertain ground, the beautiful Romulan officer might be lying about her feelings toward reunification. Ambassador Spock was in a delicate position, operating as he was under the noses of the Romulan authorities, and Riker was under no illusion as to how long the legendary Vulcan would survive if he were captured. I am certainly not going to do anything that might jeopardize that man's life!

"Centurion, are you one of those who would welcome reunification with Vulcan?" he asked directly.

"Yes Commander, I am a part of the movement toward reunification." Saalesh replied.

"For how long?"

"Since birth!"

The vehemence in her tone of voice left no doubt in Riker's mind that her feelings were genuine, but still he proceeded with caution.  "Excuse me for saying this Centurion, but anyone can say they are a part of something.  Proving it is another matter entirely!  You're asking us to trust you without offering anything to support your claim."

Saalesh stared hard at the human, trying to judge his integrity without having any experience in dealing with his species.  If he is untrustworthy, she thought, I am lost!  He will turn me back to the Empire, and they will execute me.  Does he realize what he is asking me to do?  She turned to the other Starfleet officer, who seemed to be waiting in expectation for her response, scrutinizing her with those pale yellow eyes.  She held the androids gaze for a moment, those eyes... almost the same colour as my own.  She made her decision, and once made, was relieved that the moment had finally come. "I wish to speak to your Captain, Commander.  I have been told that he is a man I can trust."

Riker was caught of guard, unsure quite how to respond.  Finally, he decided to trust his instinct, "Very well, Centurion."  Riker tapped his combadge, opening the communications channel. "Riker to Picard."

"Picard here.  Go ahead Number One."

"Centurion Saalesh of the Romulan Imperial Fleet requests a meeting with you Captain."

There was a slight hesitation before the Captain replied.  "Escort the Centurion to my quarters, Commander. Picard out!"

"On our way."  Riker turned to Data.  "Continue your analysis of the Rornulan records Mr. Data.  We'll be with the Captain."  He turned his attention back to the Romulan.  "Centurion, come with me please."

As they left, Data turned back to the monitor and began to step through the Romulan records frame by frame.  At the speed the images were changing, to human eyes, it would look like a jumbled blur.  

****

Picard forced himself to remain composed  as he waited for Commander Riker and the Romulan officer to arrive.  He sipped a cup of Earl Grey, and let his mind drift over the events of the past twenty hours.  Has it only been twenty hours?  Amazing how quickly things can go straight to hell!

The door chime sounded, and the Captain rose and straightened his uniform before walking over to the door and activating the mechanism.  "Come in Commander... Centurion.  Please sit down," he said, gesturing toward the couches which lined two of the interior walls of his quarters.

Riker and Saalesh sat on opposing ends of one of the couches and Picard took a seat in the chair opposite them.  He centered his gaze on the young Romulan officer, and came straight to the point. "Well Centurion, why did you request this meeting?"

Saalesh took a deep breath before responding to the Captain's question, and consciously focused her thoughts on what she was about to say.  "Captain Picard, I formally petition the Federation to grant me political asylum."

Picard leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in surprise.  "I see.  May I ask why, Centurion?"

Why, Saalesh thought, such a seemingly simple question.  How do I put into words a lifetime of longing for a different reality!  How do I explain to a human what it is like to grow up in the Romulan Empire, but know instinctively that everything you are being taught is wrong?  Would he understand how I felt after a beloved friend was executed for daring to speak the name of Surak?  "I am a member of the movement for reunification of the Vulcan  people, Captain Picard.  As a member of that organization, I am condemned to death if discovered."

"And you believe that you're about to be discovered?" Riker asked.

"I am a Romulan, Commander.  We spend our whole lives in danger of being discovered by the state!" Saalesh replied sarcastically.  "I do not know how many Romulans you have met, but perhaps you have noticed that I am not like other members of my race. Some of the senior officers of the Imperial Fleet have commented upon my... attitude."  She turned back to address Captain Picard.  "I fear for my life, Captain.  If the propulsion system on board these alien craft fall into the hands of the Empire, I fear for all our lives!"

Picard's face remained impassive as he listened to the Romulan officer speak.  Now that she mentioned it, he could see that she wasn't like the other Romulan women he had met.  There was an ethereal quality to the way she carried herself, it was an attribute he had seen somewhere before, but couldn't quite place.  As the senior officer present in this situation, Picard was legally  able to grant Saalesh's request for political asylum, but he was unwilling to take the Centurion's statements at face value without any evidence to support her claim.

"You must understand my position, Centurion," Picard began   "I have some personal knowledge of the movement of which you speak

"I am aware of your mission to Romulus, Captain Picard," Saalesh interrupted.

Picard was momentarily stunned into silence. Who was this woman!  There weren't a dozen people within the Federation or the Romulan Empire that knew of his secret rendezvous with Ambassador Spock on Romulus!  "You have me at a disadvantage, Centurion." Picard said cautiously.  "If such a mission  did in fact, take place, it would be highly classified by both the Federation, and the Romulan Empire.  I cannot imagine how a lowly Centurion in the Imperial Fleet could gain legitimate access to such information, even if she were a computer expert."

Saalesh realized she had no choice but to put herself completely into their hands.  She reached beneath her tunic and extracted an  opto-electronic memory chip, then laid it on the table between her and the Captain.  "The file on this chip is for your eyes only, Captain Picard.  I was instructed to deliver into the hands of one of three people, you are one of those people."

The chip lay on the table between them, but Picard made no move to pick it up.  He felt as if he were treading on thin ice, where each step forward was one more step toward imminent disaster.  If Saalesh were to defect, with his active support, it might be the final step on the road to war between the Federation and the Romulan Empire.  No single life could take precedence over the billions which would die in such a war!

"Centurion," Picard began, glancing briefly at the chip, "This file you have in your possession, what is it's origin?"

"It originates with Ambassador Spock, of Vulcan."

"I see... and who were the other two people that could be privy to the information on this file," Picard asked.

"I cannot tell you that, Captain Picard.  Spock was quite specific, under no circumstances were any of the three to know the identities of the other two."

Picard rubbed his temples in frustration.  How like the Ambassador, choosing not to tell someone something is not the same as telling an untruth!  A very Vulcan convenience, but a Romulan spy would know that, wouldn't she!  There was no way out, that he could see, he would have to view the file and hope that he could reach a decision based upon what it contained.

Picard reached down and picked up the chip. "All right Centurion, I will view the file.  Could you leave us alone, Commander Riker?"

The fact that the request was phrased as a question rather than an order, almost caused Riker to refuse. He didn't like the idea of leaving the Captain alone with the Romulan officer.  For all they knew, she might just as easily be a professional assassin, as a potential defector.  Then the Centurion did something which eased Piker's mind somewhat, she offered to leave the room as well.

"There is no need for me to be here when you read the file, Captain Picard.  I will wait with Commander Piker."

"Very well.  Wait outside, both of you.  This shouldn't take long."

The two officers got up from the couch and left the room, leaving Picard with his own thoughts, and the Romulan's computer memory chip.  He turned it over in his hand, wondering what kind of mischeif it contained.  Picard remembered accusing Spock of engaging in cowboy diplomacy by secretly going to Romulus in the first place.  Spock had replied, with a trace of very human sarcasm, that he had been engaged in so-called cowboy diplomacy since well before Picard had been born.  Which was true enough, Picard admitted.  Much of the history of the past hundred years was written around the actions of a certain Vulcan, and some of his human companions, on board another vessel named Enterprise.

Picard took the chip to his computer terminal and inserted it into one of the access slots.  There was a brief delay as the chip was loaded into the computer's own memory circuits, and then the image of Spock appeared on the monitor.

"Access identification required," the computer intoned.

"Picard, Jean-Luc, Captain USS Enterprise, NCC1701-D."

"... Voice print identification accepted... proceed."

"Start playback," Picard ordered.

"... this is an assessment of my continuing efforts to establish a dialogue with the people of the Pomulan Empire, in the hope that it will lead to a reunification of the Vulcan race.  I have found that the drive toward reunification is especially deep among the masses on the Romulan home-world, and although my contact with the fringes of the Romulan Empire is tenuous, there seems to be an egualally strong movement toward that end within the whole of the Romulan Empire.

Recently, I was made aware of a situation which may have grave consequences for the Federation, and tbe tenuous movement of which I am a part.  It would seem that the Imperial Fleet has been sent into action against a hitherto unkno;ni enemy. According to my sources, casualties have been extremely heavy, with some twenty-two vessels lost to hostile action. The origins of this conflict are unclear, as are the identities of the hostile forces, but the evidence would suggest that the sphere of corribat is moving toward Federation space. Herein lies a potential opportunity to further the cause of peace between the Federation and the Pomulan Empire, and also quicken the pace of reunification."

"I propose that the Federation offer to mediate this conflict on behalf of the Romulan Empire. This initiative should be undertaken as soon as possible.  If hostilities should migrate across the Neutral Zone, the only option left to the Federation might be war against one or both of the combatants.

Sources within the Imperial Fleet have provided me with copies of the Captain's Log of the cruiser Ta'Llam, apparently it was the first Romulan warship to challenge an incursion into their space by these hostiles.  The visual record of the encounter is quite fascinating.  The alien vessel was in geosynchronous orbit above a planet which the Romulans call K'Kaalam, in the _____________ system, it appeared to be a derelict, but when the Ta'Llam approached to within one thousand kilometres, the derelict suddenly went to full power and opened fire with a weapons system unlike any I have previously encountered. The surprising thing, from my perspective at least, is that the alien vessel looks tantalizingly familiar.  I am certain that I have seen such a vessel before, but I cannot remember where or when.  It is possible that the incident I recall happened before I underwent Fal Tor Pan, in which case my memory lapse is probably irreversible, and it is unlikely that I will ever remember the exact circumstances of my previous experience with a vessel of this type.  However, I am convinced that at some point I have encountered this type of vessel before.

An analysis of the visual log from the Ta'Llam has led me to conclude that the alien vessel utilizes a hyper-dynamic warp field as it's primary method of propulsion.  As you are aware, this will greatly complicate the tactics needed to mount an effective defence if these aliens are encountered by Federation starships.  It is impossible to estimate the maximum velocities which might be achieved by the use of the hyper-warp drive, as by it's very nature, the hyper-warp system allows time and distance to become interchangeable...

"Freeze playback."

Leaning back in his chair, Picard realized that Spock had just given him the clue which would answer many of the questions he had regarding this whole incident.  Time and distance become interchangeable! While the warp-drive used by the Enterprise and other starships allowed them to warp space, thereby changing the time necessary to travel between star systems, the hyper-warp system allowed the vessel in which it was installed to warp time itself, making the distance one wanted to travel irrelevant!  That was the key, he thought, but also the systems greatest flaw.

Picard tapped his communicator, opening the inter-ship communications channel.  "Commander Data, this is the Captain, report to my quarters immediately!"

"Acknowledge," Data replied.  "On my way."

Now, Picard thought, what to do about Centurion Saalesh?  He walked over to the door and touched the recessed switch to activate the 'open' command, Riker and the Centurion were standing quietly in the corridor, waiting for him.  "Come in, please."

The two officers walked into Picard's quarters and took the seats they had previously occupied, Picard himself remained standing.  She seems very calm, he thought, almost as if she no longer cares one way or the other what happens to her.  In spite of what she had been told, she doesn't trust us, he suddenly realized, she still thinks we're capable of turning her back over to the Empire.           Picard made his decision.

"Centurion Saalesh, as Commanding Officer of the USS Enterprise, and ranking representative of the United Federation of Planets in this sector, I formally grant your request for political asylum."

Saalesh breathed an audible sigh of relief.  "Thank you, Captain Picard." She hesitated slightly before broaching another subject with the Captain of the Enterprise.  "Captain Picard, I have given some thought to the logistics of my defection since arriving aboard your vessel.  Would it be possible to mislead Commander Srelal into thinking I have been killed, either by accident or design?"

It was Picard's turn to hesitate before offering a reply to the Romulan's query.  Accidental deaths were a relatively rare occurrence aboard the Enterprise, in spite of the inherent dangers of deep-space exploration.  Thankfully, Picard thought, death by design was an even rarer occurrence!  Orchestrating such an event went against some very long held principles, even if the intent were to perpetrate a subterfuge which might, in the long term, save the lives of Saalesh's relatives left behind on Romulus.  Picard decided to put her off for the time being, until he was able to better assess his options.  "Let me think about that, Centurion. Your death could cause more problems than it solves. For the moment, this conversation is to be held in strict confidence   Only yourself, Commander Riker, and I will be privy to your defection."

"Very well, Captain Picard."  Saalesh looked shyly at the deck between her feet, before murmuring, "Your confidence honours me, I am yours to command."

Picard wasn't quite sure how to interpret this remark, and from the look on Riker's face it was clear that he was mystified as well.  We know so little about them, he thought.  After nearly two centuries of conflict we are still incredibly ignorant of basic Romulan customs and culture!  Not knowing the proper response to the Centurion's statement or even if a response was called for, Picard was grateful for the interruption caused by the arrival of Commander Data.

***

Chapter Six

Saalesh was confused.  Her Pledge of Obedience was neither accepted nor rejected by the Federation Captain.  Does he not know what I have freely offered?  Will I ever be able to understand these humans who are the driving force behind the Federation? As she watched the android come into the room, Saalesh was struck by the thought that she and Commander Data had much in common.  Both were struggling to understand the human species, and neither was succeeding to the degree that they had hoped. Data's problem was that he lacked an understanding of the emotional and instinctual forces which drove most sentient species, and although Saalesh understood emotions only too well, she lacked the cultural information which could help her to better deal with the other crew members of the Enterprise.  Perhaps we can help each other, she thought.

Data was the one member of the Enterprise crew who accepted her at face value.  He was non-judgemental, and the fact that she was a Romulan did not seem to overly concern him.  It was a tribute to the sophistication of his programming, she thought, although the more time she spent in Data's presence, the less she was able to think of him as a machine. No doubt Srelal would find her attitude laughable, but Srelal rarely missed an opportunity to belittle her!

Data acknowledged the presence of the Romulan officer with a quick inclination of his head, then turned his full attention to the Captain.

"Sit down Mr. Data," Picard said, gesturing toward one of the couches and then waiting for his Second Officer to settle himself before proceeding. "Have you made any progress in your study of the Romulan computer records, Data?"

"Yes Captain, I believe I have determined the method by which the Guild spacecraft communicates.  It appears that the Guild has been trying to open a dialogue with the Romulans all along."

This news was greeted with silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts.  For Saalesh, this revelation was especially bitter.  So many dead, she thought.  Death without meaning, nearly one quarter of the Imperial Fleet destroyed, all pointless!

"Have you decoded the Guild's transmissions Data?" Picard asked quietly, himself greatly perturbed by the seeming futility of the Romulan's combat against the Guild.

"I have managed to decode only the audio portion of the Guild transmission, Captain.  However, I suspect that there is also a visual carrier within their transmission code.  It is simply a matter of finding the proper algorithm necessary to decode the visual portion of their rather unique communications system."

"How does it work Data," Riker asked.

Data got up and walked over to the large, wall mounted monitor, calling up the visual record of the Guild attack on the Romulan cruiser D'Tal. The same image Riker and Saalesh had seem before
was frozen on the screen.  The Guild vessel surrounded by the deep-blue corona, with a hard edge of brilliant crimson, and the enigmatic green light hanging below the spacecraft.

"As can be seen by this visual record taken from the Captain of the cruiser D'Tal's personal recording device, the Guild vessel utilizes a bidirectional, hyper-dynamic warp field as it's primary method of propulsion.  The visual manifestation of this propulsion system is clearly evident in the crisp edge of the primary field, and the equally clear definition of the secondary field which is crimson in colour."

"The communications of this vessel are handled through this bright green object hanging below the spacecraft," Data continued.  "I would theorize that this feature is also a sensor array, not unlike that found on the Enterprise,"

"Would the sensor and communications suites be as effective as our own, Data?" Picard asked.

"That is highly unlikely, Captain.  If we assume that this is indeed a twenty-first century vessel, it's computer processing ability could in no way match that of the Enterprise.  However, we do not have any way to determine exactly what type of computer architecture these people might have designed. It may be quite sophisticated."

Picard rubbed his chin thoughtfully,  "I see. Please continue."

"The communications device seems to be a highly modified version of the laser-comm systems popular with the military during the latter decades of the twentieth century.  It is a mid-spectrum, visible laser which accounts for it's green colour.  By using light frequencies on either side of the mid-spectrum, they are able to modulate the carrier with digitally encoded bursts ranging from the ultra-violet to the infra-red spectrum."

"That would necessarily limit the range at which communication would be effective, would it not Commander?" Saalesh asked.

"That is true Centurion," Data replied.  "I have estimated, based on the data gathered so far, that the Guild's communications would be ineffective beyond a range of one million kilometers."

"According to the Romulan records which Centurion Saalesh provided," Riker said.  "The D'Tal did not detect the Guild spacecraft until it was within fifteen kilometers, so the range of the Guild's communications shouldn't be a problem!"

Picard smiled.  "I agree Number One.  A range of one million kilometers will be more than sufficient'"

Data paused while the Captain and Commander Riker shared their apparent amusement at his determination of the Guild spacecraft's communication range.

He failed to grasp what was amusing about the situation, although he did recognize  the ironic tone in Commander Riker's comment.  He accessed his memory circuits in an attempt to define parameters where the use of an ironic phrase might be appropriate, and then used that information to analyse Commander Riker's comment.  Data quickly realized that if the Enterprise was unable to detect the Guild spacecraft until it was within fifteen kilometers of their position, it became wholly academic whether or not the Guild's communications device was able to function over longer distances.  In short, he got the joke, at least in theory, although he was still unable to appreciate it.

Saalesh was also at a loss to explain the humans levity.  She failed to see anything funny about
the fact that the Guild spacecraft could not be detected beyond a range of fifteen kilometers. In her opinion, such a thing was a matter of serious concern, and she didn't see any necessity to make light of it.

"Could we hear the audio transmission that you have decoded, Commander Data?" she asked, in an attempt to bring the discussion back on track.

"Of course Centurion," Data replied.  If he would have been able to feel anything, Data speculated that he probably would have felt relieved to continue the briefing, as this forced him to discontinue the self-imposed analysis of his own short-comings that he had embarked upon.

"As can be seen by the visual record, when first detected the Guild vessel's communications array was fully operational and broadcasting.  This is the message that they were attempting to communicate to the Romulan cruiser D'Tal."

"Unidentified spacecraft... Unidentified spacecraft... This is the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild vessel Gaia... we have no hostile intentions... repeat... have no hostile intention... Please allow us to proceed without conflict..."

"At this point Captain, the Romulan cruiser opened fire," Data continued.  "And the Gaia's communications array went off-line."

The Gaia, Picard thought.  Now we have a name for the mystery.  "Anything further, Mr. Data?"

"After the first disruptor strike from the D'Tal, the Guild vessel opened fire with it's own weapons system, severely damaging the Romulan cruiser D'Tam."  Data keyed a command into the monitor to advance the record.  "After disabling the D'Tam, the Guild vessel again tried to communicate with the Romulan, repeating the same message, they were of course ignored, and the D'Tal continued to fire   Three seconds later the record ends, presumably due to a hull breach which caused the instantaneous death of the D'Tal's Captain."

Picard turned to Saalesh.  "These personal recording devices cease operation upon the death of the person carrying it, Centurion?"

"That is correct, Captain," Saalesh replied. "There is no point in continuing to gather evidence against someone who has already expired."

"I see your point," Picard said.  "Data, I would like Lieutenant Worf to go over these records.  Anything we can learn about the Guild's tactics will be useful when we finally do make contact."

"Very well, Captain," Data replied.  "Do you wish me to modify the Enterprise's sensor array to receive Guild communications?"

"Is that possible, Data?" Riker asked.

"Yes Commander.  However, in order to transmit we will have to rig an external light source capable of the frequency spectrum utilized by the Gaia's laser-comm system."

"Make it so!" Picard ordered.  "One other thing, Data.  I have recently received a communique from Ambassador Spock which may shed some light on this situation.  I would like you to research the theoretical principles of navigation at velocities in excess of warp ten.  Spock is of the opinion that time and space become interchangeable within a hyper-dynamic warp field.  If this is true, it may explain why a group of twenty-first century humans have suddenly appeared in the heart of the Romulan Empire!"

Data digested this hypothesis, and then accessed his memory banks for information on the theoretical principles of navigation at extremely high warp speeds, in an attempt to find evidence to support or disprove the Captain's theory.  He was fascinated to learn that most of the theoretical applications had been tested at various times by the first USS Enterprise commanded by James T, Kirk, and that Spock of Vulcan had rewritten much of what was known of high-velocity navigation while serving as that vessel's First Officer!  On at least two different occasions, the Enterprise NCC-1701 had successfully travelled back through time and then returned to their own place in the space-time continuum!

"Captain, Spock seems to raise a valid point," Data said.  "However, there is insufficient data to reach a conclusion.  Spock's experiences with high-velocity navigation through the space-time continuum were accomplished by using a conventional warp field under continuous acceleration toward a large celestial body such as a star, and using the extreme gravitational forces present to slingshot the vessel through the warp ten barrier.  The Guild vessel, if our theory is correct, uses a bi-directional hyper-dynamic warp-field.  Theoretically, this propulsion system is designed to warp both time and space, so that a vessel might arrive at a destination at almost the same instant that it departed it's start point.  The practical application of such a theoretical principle may have unforseen results."

"Are you saying that navigating a spacecraft within such a field may be impossible, Commander Data?" Saalesh asked.

"That night be one explanation for the circumstance we now find ourselves in, Centurion," Data answered.

"Yes," Picard agreed.  "It would also explain why this Guild vessel did not simply engage it's hyper-warp drive to escape any trap the Imperial Fleet might have set for it."

"If that's true, Captain," Riker said.  "Then the question which begs to be asked is, where is the Guild ship now?"

Picard turned to Data.  "Any ideas Mr. Data?"

"No Sir.  Due to the limitations of our own sensor array, the Guild vessel is virtually impossible to detect, even at relatively close range."

"Can we boost the sensitivity of our sensors, Data?" Piker asked.

"It is not a matter of sensitivity per se, Commander, rather it is in the nature of the object we are trying to detect.  The Enterprise sensors are not able to detect the Guild vessel because it has
no electro-magnetic signature, outside of it's own sub-space domain, that our computer  can recognize as a legitimate sensor target.

"I can't accept that Data!" Picard fumed.  "There must be a method of detecting this Guild ship!"

"Perhaps Commander LaForge might have some ideas, Captain.  I believe that he and S'dar have almost completed the assembly of the first Guild scoutcraft.  They may have found something that could be useful in ~etecting the larger Guild vessel."

"Very well, Data.  You and Centurion Saalesh transport over to Excalibur and see how Commander LaForge is progressing.  You're right, the scout-craft may hold the answers to some of the more pressing questions we have about this whole Guild business!"

The Captain's combadge beeped just as Data and Centurion Saalesh got up to leave.

"Lieutenant Worf to Captain Picard!"

"This is the Captain, go ahead Lieutenant!"

"Sir, I have isolated and disabled the mines laid by the Romulan cruiser.  They are now visible to our sensors."

"Very good Lieutenant," Picard responded.  "I trust Commander Srelal was of some assistance in that regard."

"Yes Captain, Commander Srelal was... helpful."

"Advise the Hood to proceed to the rendezvous co-ordinates Lieutenant.  Picard out!"

"Acknowledged!"

Picard turned to Commander Riker.  "Perhaps you should see how the Lieutenant and Scelal are getting along, Commander.  It would be a pity if they killed each other before this problem was resolved!"

"Understood Sir!  Although from his glowing endorsement one might think Worf is falling in love!" Riker quipped.

"Really Commander, restrain yourself.  I don't believe our Klingon friend would be amused."

"Yes Sir."

"Dismissed!"

As the door closed behind the three demarting officers, Picard keyed his combadge.  "Picard to Counselor Troi."

"Yes Captain," came the immediate reply.

"Meet me in my Ready Room, Counselor.  There is something I wish to discuss with you."

"On my way, Captain."

****

Captain Wilson was tired of sitting in the command chair, waiting for something to happen.  She needed to get off the bridge for awhile.  "Mr. Davis, you have the bridge!  I'll be on the hanger deck."

"Very well, Captain," Commander Davis acknowledged, taking the seat that Wilson had just vacated.

Stepping into the turbo-lift, Wilson allowed herself the luxury of lounging against the wall, throwing off the guise of the hard-nosed Commanding Officer that she tried to project to the rest of the crew.  She let her mind drift over the events of the past twenty-four hours, reflecting on the strange turn of events that had led her to this specific moment of her life.

When Excalibur received the orders from Starfleet Command to report to Starbase 173 for a new mission briefing, Wilson had been thrilled.  Finally her ship was being given a chance to do something interesting, instead of the boring patrol and ferry duties they had been engaged in since she took command three months before.  After she and her First Officer were briefed on the specifics of the mission however, Wilson wasn't so sure that Starfleet Intelligence had thought through all the implications of what they were asking her to do.  To add to her initial misgivings, they had saddled her with Commander McFadden, who she took an instant dislike to!

According to McFadden, the mission should be easily accomplished.  Simply proceed to the co-ordinates provided by Starf leet Command within the Romulan Neutral Zone, and wait for either the Romulans or a mysterious Earth vessel to show up.  The plan was to advise the Romulans that the Earth ship was to be guided out of their space, that the Federation had nothing to do with the small war which had apparently been going on for some months within the Empire, and they were prepared to offer appropriate incentives to the Romulan Empire to allow the safe passage of both the Excalibur and the other Earth vessel.

It was an exceedingly stupid plan!  No doubt manufactured by some idiot in the Starf leet bureaucracy who had never travelled outside the Sol system! Either that, she thought bitterly, or the plan was intended to be the catalyst for a war, and she and her crew were being used as sacrificial pawns!

Halfway to their destination, Excalibur was advised that the Enterprise was already on the scene, and that they would form part of a task force under Picard's command.  Wilson was forced to admit that she was relieved by this turn of events.  Then McFadden informed her that Picard had been ordered to seize two damaged Romulan cruisers adrift in the Neutral Zone, and she was forced once again to wonder why Starfleet was embarking on such a foolish course of action.  Surely they knew that the Imperial Fleet would not stand idly by while two of their vessels were carted off by the Federation.  Starfleet Command was now risking not one, but three starships, not to mention the fact that Enterprise and Hood were commanded by the two most senior Captains in the fleet.  What in the world could justify such a risk!

Wilson now knew the answer to that question, the hyper-warp drive!  It bothered her that Admiral Turner did not deem it necessary to inform her of the real reason behind the mission.  Recovering the hyper-warp drive was one thing, but denying it to the Romulans in the event that recovery proved impossible was quite another!  How in the hell were we supposed to do that! she asked herself.  There was no way a single Ambassador Class starship could have taken on the two Romulan battle cruisers that were now adrift on the other side of the Neutral Zone boundary.  Did Admiral Turner expect us to fail, and then use that as an excuse to begin a fleet operation against the Romulan Empire?  Wilson continued to mull over the possibilities as the turbo-lift came to a stop, and the door opened onto the hanger deck.

She was just stepping out of the turbo-lift when Commander Data and the Romulan Centurion materialized beside the Engineering Console that had been set up next to the Guild scout-craft.  Wilson was not overly enthusiastic about having the Romulan officer on board her ship, but she assumed Picard knew what he was doing when he assigned her to Commander Data's team.  At least this one was quiet, she thought. Unlike that bitch, Srelal!

It was S'dar manning the computer station, she saw, and Wilson made sure that her voice was completely level when she asked, "how's it going?"

S'dar had been around humans enough to know that the Captain was not enquiring as to his personal state of well-being, and he assumed that she was asking how the assembly of the Guild scout-craft was progressing, so he phrased his answer appropriately. "The assembly of the first vessel is complete, Captain. We are about to begin flooding the space between the two exterior hulls with liquid nitrogen, in the hope that spontaneous field   generation will occur."

"Is that likely?" Wilson asked.

"According to Commander Data's calculations," S 'dar replied.  "There is a high probability that spontaneous field generation will commence once the temperature of the super-conducting elements within the two exterior hulls falls below minus 85o centigrade."

"I see, is there any danger to the ship during this procedure?"

Data, upon hearing the Captain's question, replied on behalf of the Vulcan officer.  "The liquid nitrogen itself is inert, and poses no danger to your vessel, Captain Wilson.  We are taking the usual precautions when handling it to prevent an accidental spill which could injure a member of your crew.  The unpredictable aspect of this experiment," Data continued.  "Is the strength of the field which the Guild vessel will generate.  We assume that a minimal field-effect will be created.  However, as with all experiments, there is the possibility of catastrophic error."

"Worst case scenario, Mr. Data?" Wilson demanded.

It took Data a few seconds to run through all the possible mathematical probabilities.  "The worst case scenario you refer to Captain, would be for the Guild vessel to spontaneously develop an uncontrolled, and rapidly expanding warp-field."

"In which case," Geordi picked up where Data left off.  "One of two things would happen.  Either the smaller warp-field developed by the scout-craft will be absorbed by the Excalibur's own warp-field coil, causing an automatic shut-down sequence of your warp engines to occur or...

"I assume this is the part I'm not going to like, Commander."

"Yes sir," Geordi replied.  "Or, the scout-craft's warp-field will phase with the Excalibur's own warpfield, possibly causing everything within the smaller field to disappear into sub-spacial limbo!"

"That doesn't sound too promising, Mr. LaForge!" Wilson shot back.

"No Sir!" Geordi agreed.

"Excuse me, Captain Wilson," Saalesh began timidly. "It would be possible to write a control program to initiate a shut down of your vessel's warp-coil if the field generated by the Guild scout-craft expanded beyond the confines of the hanger deck."

"That would solve the problem of the two fields interacting," Geordi said.  "But we're still left with a warp-field being generated within the confines of the ship."

Wilson considered what the Romulan officer had proposed.  The thought of allowing an enemy access to her ship's computer left her cold, but she could see the merits of the Centurion's idea, even though she didn't especially like the person the idea originated with.  "How likely is it that these scout-craft can actually develop a warp-field?" Wilson asked.

"Minimal," Data replied.  "As far as we can tell, these vessels are designed for relatively short voyages, within a planetary system."

"Very well," Wilson said, making her decision. "Before you begin the transfer of the liquid nitrogen, we will evacuate all non-essential personnel from this deck.  Centurion, you will tailor your control program to shut down the warp-coil in the event that this Guild ship does begin generating a warpfield.  Mr. Data, you will oversee the Centurion's work.  S'dar, if the scout-craft does begin exhibiting signs of warp-field generation, you are to explosively decompress the hanger deck, and blow the scout-craft off the ship!"

"I assume," Wilson continued, "that you can design a method of loading the liquid nitrogen without any crew being present, Mr. LaForge?"

"Yes Sir!  Once the connections are made, we can control the loading process remotely from the observation bubble."

"Very well.  Then let's get to it!"  Wilson ordered.

****

Counselor Troi was with Captain Picard when he communicated with Admiral Turner.  The Captain wanted her opinion of the Admiral's mental state, in the hope that they could devine from that analysis some ideas on the man's real motivation for bringing them to the brink of a serious confrontation with the Romulan Empire.

When the Starfleet graphic dissolved into the grim visage of Admiral Turner, Deanna was immediately struck with the impression that things were not turning out the way the Admiral had hoped.  There was a nervousness behind the man's eyes that she found disconcerting in one who held such a position of authority.  This man is weak, she thought, and that makes him dangerous!

"Report, Picard!"

The Captain glanced at Deanna and she was able to read his expression clearly without having to rely on her empathic abilities.  Captain Picard was angered by the Admiral's tone of voice.  He was after-all, Jean-Luc Picard, not some ensign fresh from the Academy!

"We are holding position, awaiting the imminent arrival of the Hood," Picard stated, his frigid tone of voice an obvious warning to the senior officer that he was not a man who blindly obeyed orders from on high.

Turner grimaced.  "What of the Romulans?"

"We have been challenged by two Romulan vessels, Admiral.  One of them approached to within one hundred and fifty meters of the Enterprise, before it engaged it's cloaking device and withdrew."

Deanna noted that the Captain refrained from telling Admiral Turner that the Romulan warship was actually in Federation space when that incident took place.

"You allowed an enemy vessel to close to that distance without firing, Captain?"

"I chose to exercise caution, Admiral!  As is my right as Captain of the Enterprise!" Picard coldly replied.  "The tactic used by the Romulan Commander was unique, and precluded our firing without risking serious damage to the Enterprise."

"I see.  Are you intending to commence the salvage of the two cruisers once the Hood arrives?"

Picard hesitated before replying, and Deanna knew that the Captain was giving careful consideration to his available options.  If he disobeyed a direct order from the Chief of Operations, he could be relieved of his command, not something any officer could take lightly.  On the other hand, Captain Picard was the senior officer present, and the most experienced Captain in Starfleet.  Both factors would weigh heavily in his favour if it came to a direct confrontation with Starfleet Command.

"Once the Hood arrives, Captain DeSoto and I will confer, Admiral.  However, for the record, I must state unequivocally that I do not believe the salvage of the two Romulan cruisers is a prudent move.  As far as we can tell, there is virtually nothing salvageable aboard either spacecraft!"

"Your objections are noted, Picard," Turner replied sarcastically.  "But you had better keep in mind who's giving the orders here!  Do I make myself clear, Captain!"

"Quite clear, Admiral.  However, before proceeding with any salvage operation, I will require a hardcopy of the Operations Order, stating in specific detail exactly what the mission parameters of this operation involve, and it's stategic justification! I have no desire to quote regulations to you, Admiral, but I am sure you are aware of my legal obligations as Commanding Officer of the Enterprise, and Task Force Commander."

"What is your problem, Picard?"

"My problem, Admiral, is that my vessel was given orders without benefit of all the facts!  The Romulan Imperial Fleet has been engaged in hostile action against an unknown enemy for the past seven months, they have lost more than twenty vessels in combat, and Starfleet Command has known for at least three weeks, probably longer, who is responsible!  That is my problem, Admiral!"

"You'll get your strategic justification, Picard, in writing!  Once you do, I strongly suggest you
proceed accordingly!  End transmission..."

The monitor abrubtly went dark.  Picard turned to Counselor Troi.  "At least he cut me off before I had a chance to tell him about the three Romulan officers I've beamed aboard."

"I think that might be a good thing, Captain. I don't believe Admiral Turner is completely rational, and the thought of Romulans aboard the Enterprise might increase his paranoia."

"Do you actually believe he is mentally unbalanced, Counselor?"

"I would not go that far, Captain.  However, I do sense that the Admiral is under a great deal of stress, and that is affecting his judgement."

"Anything else?"

"Yes Captain, Admiral Turner is a weak man, and such men often feel pressured to achieve greatness vicariously through the deeds of others."

"I see."  Picard seemed to be considering Deanna's words, but again she found that she was unable to read him.

"Is it possible that Turner is being pressured by someone else?  The Federation Council perhaps?" Picard asked.

"I honestly can't say, Captain," Deanna replied, "but if I had to guess, I would say no.  Whatever the pressure Admiral Turner is feeling, I would say that it is internalized."

The Captain nodded, seemingly in agreement with her assessment.  "Thank you for your input, Counselor. You've been most helpful."

Sensing that the Captain wished to be alone, Deanna left his ready room to return to her quarters, but she suddenly changed her mind after stepping on to the turbo-lift.  I've been spending too much time alone, she thought to herself.  She decided to pay Beverly Crusher a visit.  Maybe she could interest the doctor in accompanying her to Ten-Forward.

****

Riker found Worf and Commander Srelal at the Security Station on deck nine.  He was surprised to see that Commander McFadden was with them, apparently the Intelligence Officer was trying to convince Worf that a tour in Starfleet's Intelligence Directorate would be a useful career move.

"... really Lieutenant, you should consider an intelligence billet when your tour with the Enterprise is completed."

"With all due respect, Commander," Worf said, his tone of voice anything but respectful.  "I am a warrior, not an analyst.  Spies are..." the Klingon seemed to be searching for just the right word. "... distasteful to me."

"I see," said McFadden.

Riker was pleased to see the Intelligence Officer rebuffed, and also angered that the man would have the audacity to try and recruit Lieutenant Worf off the Enterprise.  "Commander, may I have a word with you, please.  In private!"

McFadden spun around, obviously surprised that Riker had come up behind them, but he recovered quickly and followed Riker into the officer's lounge across the hall from the security station.

"Is there a problem, Riker?"

"You are the problem, Commander!  Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"My job, among other things!" McFadden shot back with equal venom.  "Lieutenant Worf is an exceptional officer, and in case you haven't noticed,the alliance with the Klingon Empire is getting a little shaky since Gowron took power.  Someone with Worf's unique contacts among the members of the Klingon High Council would be a valuable intelligence asset!"

"The Lieutenant is a valued member of the Enterprise's senior bridge crew, and I doubt that Captain Picard is anxious to lose him!  Besides which, if you think that Worf would work for a man like you, you don't know very much about Klingon's!"

"That sounded suspiciously like an insult, Riker. I don't like being insulted, and I won't tolerate such behavior in the future."

"Are you threatening me, Commander?" Riker asked, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.  "Just who in the hell do you think you are?"

"I think, I am a man who could easily kill you, Riker!" and with that, McFadden abruptly turned and left the officer's lounge.

Riker was so enraged that he didn't trust himself to leave the lounge, lest he immediately order Worf to arrest McFadden and throw him in the brig.  This was the first time that anyone had ever challenged his authority since he became First Officer of the Enterprise, and he needed time to analyze his own reaction.  When he finally felt that he had his emotions under control, he left the lounge and headed toward the bridge.  An old earth proverb kept repeating itself in his mind... "revenge is a dish, better served cold."

****

Wilson watched from the observation bubble above the hanger deck, as the last of the liquid nitrogen was pumped into the holding tank of the Guild scout-craft.  It was quite astounding really, that a vessel which was built over three centuries before she was born, might actually be made space-worthy again.

LaForge and S'dar were monitoring the pumping, while Commander Data and his Romulan assistant kept a close watch on the sensor array instrumentation that they had rigged on the hanger deck.  So far, there were no problems.

"Pumping complete, Captain," S'dar informed her.

"Any field-effect, Mr. Data?" Wilson asked.

"Negative, Captain."

"Alright LaForge, disconnect the nitrogen couplings."

"Aye, Sir," Geordi replied.  "Confirm disconnect complete, my board is green."

"Very well.  Data?"

"Nothing yet, Captain."

It was the Romulan who first noticed the movement of the Guild scout-craft.  "Captain, vertical motion sensors have gone active!"

"Standby to decompress the hanger, S'dar," Wilson ordered tersely.  "Mr. Data, field status?"

"Magnetic anomaly detectors have come on line, field effect is minimal, and stable."

"Thank goodness for that," Wilson said quietly.

Data continued to monitor the sensor readouts, while Geordi pressed his face against the observation bubble and stared down at the Guild spacecraft. "I can see the ship's magnetic field, Data.  It's... layered!"

"Explain what you mean by layered, Mr. LaForge?" Wilson asked.

Geordi walked over to the station Data was using, so that he might better illustrate his observation to someone who had no real grasp of how he 'saw' the universe.  "There appears to be a very low-density magnetic field out to about two meters from the ship's hull.  This part of the field is absolutely uniform around the entire circumference of the spacecraft. Closer in, at a distance of approximately one meter, there is a separate field which appears to have roughly three times the density of the outer field, and is also completely uniform around the top and sides, but it where it intersects the bottom plane of the ship, it disappears!"

"Define, disappears?" Data inquired.

"I mean, that it simply ceases to exist, Data!" Geordi input some commands into the terminal, and the graphic representation of the Guild spacecraft changed to show the field configuration that the engineer was able to 'see' with the benefit of his VISOR.

"Interesting," Data observed.  "The high-density field seems to be absorbed at exactly the level where the landing struts are attached to the hull."

"Which means, that you can get in and out of the spacecraft without having to worry about the magnetic fields scrambling your nerve synapses," Wilson concluded.

"I do not have nerve synapses, Captain," Data informed her.

Wilson wasn't sure she had heard the android correctly.  "Pardon me, Commander?"

Data cocked his head quizzically, "Pardon you for what, Captain?  It was an honest mistake."

Now Wilson was genuinely confused.  Was it possible that the android was making fun of her?  She glanced over at Commander LaForge, who was shaking his head in disbelief, leading her to the conclusion that Data was trying to get her goat in some way   Well, she would certainly put a stop to that in a hurry! "I don't appreciate your sense of humour, Commander!"

"I do not have a sense of humour, Captain," Data responded, obviously puzzled by Captain Wilson's comment.  "Although I have endeavored to conduct a study of the principles involved in human comedy, my efforts to apply these principles in appropriate situations have been... somewhat less than successful."

"You can say that again!" Geordi muttered.

Wilson, hearing LaForge's comment, came to the realization that the android had taken her statement about scambled nerve synapses literally, thinking that she was speaking to him specifically.  Data had, quite correctly, pointed out the fact that he did not actually have nerve synapses. Although Wilson was almost positive that a high-density magnetic field would not do Data's neural pathways any good, she could see where he might want to clear up any misconceptions she might have about his physiology.

Wilson thought about all the subltle nuances of human speech, and was given a sudden insight into the problems Commander Data must have had to overcome to achieve the rank that he had.  She wondered how many other Captains had mistaken Data's literal interpretation of human speech as some kind of joke played at their expense.  The thought of Jean-Luc Picard playing word games with his Second Officer caused her to do something that no-one on the Excalibur had ever seen their new Captain do, she laughed out loud!

"Who's on first?" she said, still laughing.

LaForge was the only one who caught the reference to the historic slapstick routine.  The others, particularly S'dar, looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

***

Chapter Seven

Dr. Crusher agreed to Troi's suggestion that they take some time for themselves.  The ship was nominally at yellow alert, and although non-essential personnel were required to stay in their quarters, Ten-Forward was operating in order to provide an outlet for those members of the Enterprise crew who had been on duty almost continually since the crisis began.  It was here that the two women settled into a corner table, near the door so that they could leave quickly to return to their duty stations if the Captain ordered the ship's alert status changed from yellow to red.

"So Counselor, is there anything in particular that's bothering you?" Crusher asked with a smile.

"That's usually my line, Beverly."

"I know that Deanna, but you look as if you could use somebody to talk to.  Even Ship's Counselor's need to be counselled occasionally.  Now talk!"

Troi took a moment to compose her thoughts. "It's kind of stupid really, I've been having a strange dream."

"What's the dream about?"

"That's the stupid part," Troi replied, frustrated. "I can't remember!  All I know is, it has to do with a man."

"Someone tall, dark, and handsome I hope."

Troi tried her best to match Beverly's light mood, but couldn't quite pull it off.  "Unfortunately, I can't remember that either."

Dr. Crusher took note of Troi's expression, and her level of concern went up a notch.  Deanna was one of the most well-adjusted people she had ever met, not usually given to dwelling on things she had no control over, but this dream was obviously preying on her mind.  That was a matter of serious concern to the Chief Medical Officer, and she resolved to discover the cause.

"When did this dream begin, Deanna?" Crusher asked.

"It started just after we arrived at the Neutral Zone and saw the two Romulan ships.  I've had it twice in a row.  It's disturbing, not being able to remember the details, only an impression of a man.  I can always remember my dreams, this is the first time that this has ever happened."

"Is it possible that you're picking up impressions from someone else?  That it's not really your dream at all?"

"I don't think so.  Betazoids have a kind of defense mechanism that usually blocks out all but the strongest outside emotions during the time we're asleep.  In order to override the block, a person would have to direct a strong telepathic impulse specifically at me.  There are no telepaths of that caliber aboard the Enterprise!"

"You're only half Betazoid, Deanna," Crusher pointed out.  "Might that have something to do with it?  Perhaps your blocking mechanism isn't as well developed or has atrophied from living so long among non-telepaths?"

Troi smiled. "Now you're starting to sound like my mother!"

"It's just a thought."

"I understand what you're getting at, Beverly. I suppose it's possible..."

"You don't sound very convinced," Crusher observed.

"Frankly, I'm not.  It's kind of hard to explain to a non-empath, but if I can no longer distinguish the difference between my own thoughts and someone else's...  Well, that would come very close to the clinical definition of insanity for a Betazoid."

"And you don't think that definition fits at the moment."

"No."

Crusher considered all the alternatives, and then suggested a possible solution to Troi's problem. "If this dream is bothering you so much, Deanna, perhaps we should try hypnotic regression to help you remember it."

Troi knew that the doctor was trying to help, but the thought of undergoing hypnosis in an attempt to remember the details of her dream, did not fill her with enthusiasm.  She sensed that there was a dark side to this dream, and she wasn't sure that it would be in her best interest to explore that side of her personality.  As a trained psychologist, she accepted the fact that all humanoids possessed the capacity to harbour evil thoughts.  From a purely academic sense, she understood that this was perfectly normal, and that dreams were often the mechanism by which the psyche purged itself of emotions which the conscious mind would deem to be unacceptable. Nonetheless, she had always refrained from delving too deeply into her own sub-conscious, and she was hesitant to commence such an exploration now.

"Let me think about it, Beverly.  Maybe it is just the tension level  aboard the Enterprise that's affecting me.  I might be over-reacting."

Crusher was unwilling to let the matter drop that easily, but she sensed that Deanna could  not be pushed into doing something she wasn't ready for.  She trusted Troi's judgement, and although part of her duties as Chief Medical Officer included informing the Captain of any potential health problems among the members of the Enterprise's crew, she didn't believe Deanna's problem warranted the Captain's involvement.  She would make a note of their conversation in her personal log, however.

"Everyone aboard is feeling the pressure, Deanna. You aren't made of stone.  It's bound to affect you, even if you aren't accustomed to admitting it."

"I know that, Beverly.  It's just that sometimes I feel that if I let my guard down for a second, and give in to my own insecurities, I'll never be able to bottle them up again.  I get just as frightened as anyone else on the ship, but the Captain expects me to report on how the rest of the crew is feeling.  If I give in to my own fear, how am I supposed to do my job?"

A good question! Crusher thought.  One she didn't have a ready answer for.  How would any of us react, subjected to the constant bombardment of emotion that Deanna faces every day of her life, and having to fit those emotions around our own personality without losing ourselves in the process!

Now that she thought about it, Crusher realized, perhaps for the first time, what a difficult job Troi had.  To be the only empath aboard a ship full of highly emotional humans must be exhausting!

"I'm not sure what I can tell you, Deanna.  You could probably use a good vacation.  This has been a nerve-wracking year for all of us, but it must have been especially hard on you."

"Just having someone to talk to about things like this helps a lot."

"My door is always open."

Troi reached across the table and squeezed the doctor's hand.  "Thank you, Beverly."

****

The arrival of the USS Hood was a great relief to Picard.  The addition of a third starship to the Enterprise task force increased their defensive capability enormously.  Although the"Excelsior class" of starships were slowly being retired by Starfleet, in favour of the newer Galaxy and Nebula classes, the Hood was still a formidable platform, with an extraordinary record of service to the Federation.

Robert DeSoto had been her Captain for nine years, and was an old friend of Picard's.  It was he who had first suggested that Picard take a glance at the service record of a young Lieutenant Commander named Will Riker, as a possible candidate for the position of First Officer aboard the newly commissioned USS Enterprise.  DeSoto's recommendation was probably the deciding factor in Picard's selection of Riker as First Officer, and it was a decision that he had never regretted.

Picard stood up as DeSoto and Riker entered his ready room.  "Robert, it's good to see you again!"

"And you, Jean-Luc."  DeSoto took the chair opposite Picard's without being asked.  "Well, Jean-Luc," he began with his characteristic lopsided grin.  "I see you've embarked upon one of your little adventures without bothering to ask for mother's permission!"

DeSoto's laisez-fere attitude was deceptive. Picard knew from a long association with the man  that Robert DeSoto was a brilliant strategic thinker whose irreverence toward authority was carefully calculated to make friends and enemies alike underestimate his abilities   It was an attitude that had at first caused Picard to despise this man whom he now counted among his closest friends.

"This is one adventure I could do without, Robert," Picard said, returning DeSoto's smile somewhat ruefully. "And 'mother', in the persona of Fleet Admiral Turner, seems to be playing a dangerous game with the future of the Federation!"

DeSoto glanced toward the observation window, picking out the two tiny pinpricks of light he knew to be the Romulan warships which were now only six hundred kilometers from the Federation Boundary. "The Romulans are playing an equally dangerous game, Jean-Luc," he observed quietly.  "I understand you have two of them aboard."

DeSoto's tone of voice suggested a question, and Picard felt compelled to answer it.  "Actually, we have three of them on board.  Two officers and a security man.  The security man is in one of the holding cells, the other two have provided some very crucial information on the Romulan's conflict with the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild."

"You actually believe that a group of twenty-first century humans is wreaking havoc across the Romulan Empire?"

"Or surviving elements thereof, yes.  We even have a name for the Guild vessel which destroyed the two Romulan ships, the Gaia!"

DeSoto's eyebrows shot up in surprise.  "And how did you pull off that bit of magic, Jean-Luc?"

Riker fielded the question.  "Apparently, the senior officers of a Romulan vessel carry personal recording devices.  Although the logs of the two cruisers were destroyed in the Gaia's attack, with Centurion Saalesh's help, we were able to download some of these personal records into the Enterprise computer and play them back.  In one of the records, Data found a transmission from the Guild ship, and managed to decode it."

"How do you know this Romulan isn't feeding you disinformation?" DeSoto asked, playing the devil's advocate.

"I have reason to trust this particular Romulan, Robert," Picard replied.  "She arrived with some exceptional references."

"I would be very interested to know the details of how an officer of the Imperial Fleet arrives on a Federation starship carrying references which would convince Jean-Luc Picard to trust her!"

"Let me put it this way, Robert.  She's not exactly what one would expect when thinking of a Romulan officer."

"I look forward to meeting her, Jean-Luc.  She sounds... interesting."

To put it mildly, Picard thought.  DeSoto's questions forced him to re-analyse his decision to grant Saalesh's request for asylum.  Could she be an agent provocateur? It was possible, he admitted, but every instinct he possessed told him that he had made the right choice.

There was another element to this situation which Picard, up until now, had avoided.  Should he tell DeSoto about Spock's involvement in the decision to grant the Romulan officer asylum.  There was a great deal more to Saalesh's story than had been revealed so far, of that he was sure.  The question was, how much of that story was she willing to tell? Picard had no desire to involve his old friend in a situation which was, for him, as much personal as political.  Picard and Spock shared a bond that went far beyond even friendship, and the trust between them was implicit.  If Spock trusted the Centurion, Saalesh, then Picard did as well, but how could he explain such a thing to DeSoto?

He decided that there was no need to divulge Saalesh's political status at this time.  DeSoto's opinion of the Romulan might be more valuable if it was not coloured with the knowledge that she was now a defacto citizen of the Federation.  What he really needed was DeSoto's personal knowledge of Admiral Turner, and more importantly, the political motivations which presently drove the man.  If, as Counselor Troi suggested, Turner was a weak individual who lived vicariously through the exploits of others, and was trying to prop up his career through those exploits, Picard needed to know just how well connected the man was.  Challenging the authority of an Admiral at the end of his career was one thing, but Picard was enough of a realist to recognize the problems he would face if he disobeyed the orders of an Admiral who had the full backing of Starf leet Command and the Federation Council.

It was a delicate matter, to say the least. Although he would risk losing his own command in support of a principle, he had no right to make that decision for DeSoto or Wilson.  Also, if he were branded a renegade for refusing to obey Turner's order to salvage the two Romulan cruisers, he had no wish to destroy the careers of the senior officers aboard the Enterprise.  He was confident that whatever he decided his senior staff would back his decision, and that could mean becoming a target for the wrath of Starfleet's Chief of Operations.

"Robert, what can you tell me about Clark Turner?"

DeSoto smiled, but Picard was quick to notice that there was no humour in the expression.

"What's to tell, Jean-Luc.  You want to know how well connected he is... the short answer is very well!

"What's his background, Captain?" Riker asked.

"He's an old 'cloak and dagger' type, Will.  Spent his whole career in security and intelligence. His family connections go way back.  His father was also an Admiral and his grandfather took command of the original Excelsior after Captain Sulu was killed at Bentax Four."  DeSoto paused, allowing this information to sink in.  "Turner himself has never held a field command, Jean-Luc.  Before becoming Chief of Operations, he was in charge of counter-intelligence operations directed against the Romulan Empire."

Picard shook his head in disgust.  "How does a man who's never held command of a starship become Starfleet's Chief of Operations?"

"You know the answer to that as well as I do, Jean-Luc," DeSoto replied, deciding to answer what he knew to be a rhetorical question so that Picard was under no illusions as to what he was up against.

"In other words, Turner's position at Starfleet Command is secure."

"I would say, very secure!"

Picard leaned back in his chair, stroking his temples in thoughtful contemplation.  The burdens of command, he thought.  I wonder if the cadets presently at Starfleet Academy take those four words any more seriously than we did.  Probably not, he concluded.  Its hard for a seventeen year old to imagine anything negative about commanding a starship.  The arrogance of youth, that only survival, and responsibility can temper.  

Picard reached his decision, the only one that he knew that he could live with.  "Commander, will you excuse us for a moment."

Riker didn't seem to be surprised by the request, he nodded to DeSoto and then left the two Captains alone.

DeSoto watched Riker walk out the door, and as closed behind him he turned back to face Picard
across the desk.  "So old friend...

"Robert, I have to know if you'll back my recommendations to Starfleet?"

"Which are?"

"The mission parameters must be redefined.  As far as I am concerned, any attempt to salvage the
two cruisers  would be considered an extreme provocation by the Romulan Government.  We have already had one dangerous confrontation with their warships. We know that there are at least two D'Deridex class warbirds in our immediate vicinity, and there may be others

"We also know that the Romulans have been laying mines within a thousand kilometers of Federation space, Jean-Luc.  In clear violation of the Neutral Zone Treaty!  Don't you think that's a little provocative as well!"

"Granted!  But if we start matching the Romulans move for move in an endless game of one-up-man-ship, meeting each of their provocations with an equally provocative act of our own, there will only be one outcome!"

"...which neither side can afford.  I see your point, Jean-Luc.  I'm no more in favour of a war with the Romulan Empire than you are, but I don't see how we can let them walk all over the Neutral Zone Treaty without mounting a response either!"

"What do you suggest?"

"The derelict cruisers pose a danger to shipping in this sector.  At their present rate of drift, they'll be inside Federation space within two days, destroy them in place, before they reach our side of the boundary."

Picard was immediately struck by the ingeniousness of DeSoto's suggestion.  In a broad sense, it met the criteria proposed by Turner as a strategic justification for attempting to salvage the Romulan ships.  Namely, that the Romulan Imperial Fleet could not be allowed to violate the Neutral Zone Treaty without suffering serious repercussions.  Additionally, if  the Guild vessel Gaia was in the area, and had the Enterprise task-force under surveillance, the destruction of the cruisers would send them a clear signal that the Federation ships were not acting in concert with the Romulans.  That could prove to be a valuable incentive to the Guild, Picard thought, and give them an opportunity to open communications with the Federation starships.

He smiled at the Hood's Captain with real warmth. "You're are devious man, Robert.  It meets the strategic objectives nicely, while at the same time sending Admiral Turner an appropriate message, that we aren't a couple of wet behind the ears cadets who are incapable of assessing a situation for ourselves."

"I thought you'd like it," DeSoto said with a grin.

"Oh yes... I like it very much."  Picard's face then took on a somber look.  "I wonder how Captain Wilson will react to such a creative interpretation of a Starfleet order?"

"Don't underestimate her, Jean-Luc.  That's one sharp lady.  Contrary to rumour," DeSoto continued, "She got the Excalibur because she deserved it, not because she knew someone on the promotion board! If I read her right, Christina doesn't like our orders any better than you do."

"Christina?" Picard asked in surprise.  "I didn't realize the two of you had become so familiar."

DeSoto's expression turned sheepish.  "Wishful thinking I'm afraid.  In reality, we aren't that familiar at all."

"I should hope not, Robert," Picard said, smiling. "Technically, you are old enough to be her father!"

"As are you, old friend," DeSoto shot back, his eyes sparkling in amusement.  "Don't forget, I know about your little weakness for exceptionally beautiful women!"

****

Riker watched the two Captains walk out of the ready room and found himself speculating on the strategy the two men had decided upon.  Riker was fully aware of his Captain's misgivings regarding their current assignment, and agreed with them wholeheartedly, but he knew that it was not an easy thing, even for a man of Captain Picard's stature, to challenge a direct order from the Chief of Operations.

Judging from the way DeSoto was smiling, the private part of their meeting must have gone very well, Riker thought.  The Captain's mood was obviously much improved as well, he seemed much more at ease.

"Ah, Number One, Captain DeSoto and I will be beaming over to Excalibur to confer with Captain Wilson, and check on the progress Data is making with the Guild scout-craft. You have the bridge.  Have Mr. O'Brian co-ordinate our transport with the Excalibur's Tactical Officer."

"Aye, Sir."  As the two men left the bridge, Riker activated his combadge.  "Mr. O'Brian, this is Riker.  The Captain is on his way to Transporter Room Three   Co-ordinate the transport with Mr. Ursal, the Tactical Officer aboard Excalibur."

"O'Brian here, Commander.  Acknowledged!"

That chore having been completed, Riker settled himself into the center chair, checking the Conn and Ops repeater consoles which were incorporated as flip-up panels built into the armrests.  Satisfied that all was as it should be, he allowed his mind to replay the encounter with Commander McFadden, still finding it hard to believe that the man had actually threatened him.  What in the world was he up to!

It was becoming all too obvious that McFadden was of the opinion that he could use any means at all to complete his mission.  A mission, Riker realized, which seemed to have little to do with the stated objectives of this assignment.  And if McFadden was operating with a secret agenda, it only made sense that Admiral Turner was being deceitful as well, but to what end?

Riker's thoughts were distracted by the sound of the aft turbo-lift doors opening.  There was an idea floating at the periphery of his consciousness, but he couldn't quite get a handle on it, and when Deanna stepped off the turbo-lift and onto the bridge it deserted him altogether.  She still had that (occasional) affect on him, even though they were no longer lovers, just very good friends.

Imzadi!  The word formed itsetf in his mind without any conscious thought on his part, so that he didn't know if she had planted it there or if it had originated within him.  He loved to look at her, and he was honest enough with himself to acknowledge that none of the women he had been with since Deanna moved him in the way that she had.  They were all just pale imitations by comparison.

"Good morning, Commander."

"Counselor," Riker nodded in greeting as she took the seat to his left.

Riker kept his eyes glued to the viewscreen in a futile attempt not to notice the subtle fragrance that wafted around the command area of the bridge whenever Deanna was on it.  She wasn't making it any easier for him, as she continued to look directly at him.  Finally, he forced himself to acknowledge her interest by turning to face her.  "Do you have something on your mind, Counselor?"

"You seem troubled, Will," she replied seriously, her dark eyes seeming to penetrate his very soul. How easy it would be to lose myself in those eyes, Riker thought.

Troi was surprised by the intensity of the emotions she read in Riker's expression when he finally turned to face her.  Something is terribly wrong, she thought. It wasn't like Will to telegraph his feelings in that way.  On a deeper level, she sensed that he was struggling with an intense anger. Directed at who, she wondered?

Riker debated whether or not to keep the incident with McFadden to himself, but he knew that if he didn't tell her about it, Deanna was quite capable of going straight to the Captain with her concerns. Personnel problems on a starship were the First Officer's responsibility, and he wasn't about to involve the Captain if he could possibly avoid it. "Commander McFadden and I have had a personality conflict."

"I see, and that angers you?"

"Angry is perhaps too strong a word.  Concerned certainly."

Troi knew that Riker was being intentionally evasive, but she let it pass.  Having identified the target of his anger, she was confident that she could get him to tell her the whole story.  "Go on..."

"A while ago, I found McFadden attempting to recruit Mr. Worf into the Intelligence Directorate at Starf leet Command.  We had words about it."

"Words?" she asked, trying to draw him out.

"I suppose you could call it an argument."

"Did Worf seem interested in taking him up on his offer?"

Riker laughed.  "What do you think?" 

Trol smiled as well.  The thought of Lieutenant Worf becoming a spy didn't strike her as being very likely either.  It was very much at odds with the Klingon warrior mystique Worf tried so hard to project. 
"Will, didn't it occur to you that part of Commander McFadden's job is to look for good people to use as field personnel?  Intelligence gathering is an important component of Starf leet's mandate to defend the Federation."

"Now that you mention it, McFadden said as much when I confronted him."  Riker played out the scene with McFadden again, and wondered if he had, as Deanna suggested, overreacted.  Possibly, he admitted, but the other man was as equally responsible for the turn their conversation had taken.  It wasn't Riker who had brought the confrontation to the point of physical violence!

"There are some things that just aren't done, Deanna!  And attempting to recruit officers off another man's ship is one of them!  I guess that's what really irks me about McFadden, he doesn't seem to have any respect for the unwritten code that most Starfleet officers abide by."

"Most, being the operative word," she replied. Riker conceded the point she was trying to make.

There were many officers he had met during his career that did not subscribe to the notion that attempting to recruit another man's staff was a bad idea. In that respect, Riker supposed he was somewhat of a traditionalist, but damn it, there was something to be said for tradition!  Wasn't there?

Troi watched Riker closely as he mulled over what she had been saying.  Some of his anger had dissipated, but she could tell that his feelings toward McFadden were still bitter.  There was obviously more to their confrontation than Will was letting on, she thought.  The question was, how much more, and was it something that could affect the performance of his duties?  She didn1t think so, but the continued friction between them would have to be put to rest, one way or another!

For his part, Riker still didn't trust the intelligence operative.  Although Deanna had imparted some much needed perspective to the incident with McFadden, Riker knew that his initial gut instinct about the man was correct, and no amount of analysis would convince him otherwise.  Deanna meant well, but in this instance he believed that she was misinterpreting McFadden's motives.  There was more to it than a simple misunderstanding.  McFadden had thrown down a gauntlet, and then dared Riker to pick it up!

Riker knew that it was within his purview as First Officer to deal with McFadden in any way he saw fit.  He was sure that the Captain would back up his decision, no matter what.  The problem was, if Commander McFadden were operating under the direct authority of Starfleet Command, then technically he was not subject to the normal chain of command aboard the Enterprise.  Hence, if Riker took punitive action against McFadden, it would be he, and not the intelligence operative, who was violating Starfleet regulations.  For all they knew, Riker admitted to himself, McFadden's mission might be of crucial importance to the future of the Federation.  And if that were the case, tossing the man in the brig would certainly not be in anyone's best interests.  Damn!  If only we could determine exactly what McFadden's mission is, he thought.  That would clarify my options.

The struggle that Riker was waging within himself was very obvious to Troi.  She could sense the emotional turmoil, but her empathic abilities did not extend to the point where she could actually tell what he was thinking.  At least, not in specific terms.

Will Riker was a special case for her, in that there was a connection between them, because of their past relationship, that did not exist between her and any other member of the Enterprise crew.  That did not necessarily make her job any easier   In fact, in some respects dealing with Will Riker was very difficult for Troi. Her personal feelings sometimes interfered with her objectivity, and she was forced to constantly wonder if she were projecting her own emotional baggage into any analysis she attempted regarding the Enterprise's First Officer.

Will liked to pretend that their relationship had progressed beyond the passion they once felt toward each other, and evolved into a kind of comfortable, deeply rooted friendship.  But Troi had long suspected that he still loved her, and she knew that she still loved him.  There had been other lovers, for both of them, but no other loves, nothing that could approach the depth of feeling she experienced with him.

The bond, Troi thought.  I wonder if he has ever suspected.  There were many times over the past few years when Troi had considered severing the empathic link that bound her and Will Riker together, but she had never quite been able to bring herself to do it.  It was not the same as the mental bonding which took place when Vulcans were betrothed to each other as children.  It was much less ritualized, a more subtle intertwining of two minds on a purely emotional level.  Humans were especially susceptible because most of them had no training whatsoever in the screening techniques that most telepathic species were taught as children.

For Betazed women, the bonding was more instinctive than intentional.  During a sexual encounter, the release of intense emotional vibrations from their partner stimulated the bonding instinct, and for a brief moment the thoughts, emotions, and sensations of the man they were with became indistinguishable from their own.  The bond worked both ways, and because of this, the male became imprinted with an emotional awareness of his partner that, once established, could only be terminated by the Betazed female.  If the female chose, the bond would last forever.

Such a bonding had taken place between Troi and Will Piker.  Because Will was human, he was not consciously aware of the bond, but that did not lessen it's impact.  Evolution had taken a few unexpected twists on Betazed, and the bond was a natural product of that evolution.  In the matriarchal society which developed on Troi's homeworld, women came to have a genetic predisposition for control, and that control extended itself into matters of procreation through the mechanism of the bond.  Betazed males who were bonded to a female, although able to have more than one sexual partner, could only produce children with their bond-mate, and any sexual encounter ;;ith a female other than their bond-mate was not emotionally fulfilling.  Something which was very necessary for a species of fully telepathic beings, became something of a burden to an ordinary human male.  Once bonded, the human found that he could not sustain a relationship with a woman other than the one he was bonded to.  Sex became nothing more than a physical release, and with each successive encounter, less and less satisfying.

Troi was fully aware of the consequences of the bond, and had noticed some evidence of it's effect on Will, but she could still not summon the courage to break it altogether.  If she did, it would isolate her even further from her crew-mates, and she admitted to herself that the thought of such an isolation terrified her.  Will Riker was the only solid link she had to her humanity since the death of her father, and although she knew that it was selfish, some might say irresponsible, Troi was loathe to give up the bond that bound the two of them together.

"... Deanna?"

Troi shook herself out of the reverie she had indulged herself in, and tried to focus on what Will had been saying to her.  "I'm sorry, Commander. What did you say?"

"I said... that without a clear indication of what McFadden's real mission is, we're operating at a severe disadvantage.  What's wrong Deanna? Do you sense something?"  Riker asked, becoming concerned with the odd fareaway look on the Counselor's face.

"Uhh... no.  Excuse me, Commander.  I have something to attend to."

As Riker watched Troi get up and leave the bridge, he thought to himself, what the hell was that all about ?

****

The three captains held their impromptu meeting in a small conference room just off the Excalibur's main hanger deck.  Picard and DeSoto were both impressed by the progress the joint Enterprise / Excalibur engineering team had made in getting the Guild scout-craft operational.  Data and S'dar were now aboard the small vessel attempting to decipher the spacecraft's control program, which was written in a computer language that neither officer had seen before, and which Starfleet had no record of.  It was a tedious process, but Picard was confident that the Vulcan and Data would eventually be successful.  There were few officers in Starfleet who were better qualified to undertake such a task.

In the meantimer Picard, DeSoto, and Wilson were busy formulating a strategy to deal with two possible threats to their task-force.  The reaction of the Romulans to the forthcoming destruction of their two derelict cruisers, and the possible arrival of the Interplanetary Guild vessel, Gaia.

"To summarize", Picard said.  "We know of at least two D'Deridex class warbirds in our immediate vicinity, each of which is theoretically a match for the Enterprise in mass and armament.  In all likelyhood, the Romulans have other ships on the way.  In addition  if the Gaia should appear, and we can't convince them of our good intentions, they have demonstrated a weapons capability far beyond what one would expect from the twenty-first century!  Suggestions?"

Wilson was the first to speak.  "If we destroy the two cruisers without prior warning, the Romulans might consider that an act of war.  After all, they might have plans to salvage their spacecraft.  If, as Commander Srelal has stated, they've lost over twenty starships, it would make sense that they
try to salvage as much equipment as possible from two cruisers that are not completely destroyed."

"What do you propose, Christina?" DeSoto asked.

"That before we lanch any photon torpedoes, we make damn sure there aren't any Romulan ships sitting in those cruiser's sensor shadow!"

"I agree, that would be a prudent precaution", Picard said.  "It is possible that a cloaked Romulan vessel could lie undetected behind the two derelicts."

DeSoto called up a tactical display on the conference table's holographic imaging system, and projected the sensor shadow that Wilson was talking about, using the position of the three Federation starships and their relative sensor capabilities as a baseline to calculate the size of the sensor shadow. "It would have to be a damned small vessel, Jean-Luc! Even if they were cloaked, the sub-space distortion caused by a D'Deridex class warbird would be detectable at this range."

Looking at the tactical plot, Wilson was forced to agree.  Only something as small as a shuttle-craft could hide in the hole left by the overlapping sensor grids of the three ship Federation task-force.  She still didn't like the idea of simply blasting the two Romulan ships to pieces without informing any other Romulans in the area of their intentions. In her opinion, the potential risks of such action far outweighed the tactical benefits that might be accrued in taking the Romulans by surprise.

Picard knew that it was his decision, as task-force Commander, whether or not to warn the Romulans that they were about to destroy the two vessels adrift in the Neutral Zone.  The fanciful notion that they were destroying the two warships because they posed a threat to interstellar navigation in this sector wouldn't stand up to serious scrutiny.  The Romulan High Command would recognize the destruction of the two disabled vessels for what it was, a thinly veiled threat of more serious consequences to follow, should the Imperial Fleet continue to make incursions into the Federation side of the Neutral Zone   However, the captain of a Romulan warbird would probably not want to push the issue, seeing as it was they who were in clear violation of the treaty.  Threats to navigation were a universally accepted reason for the destruction of derelict vessels, and the Romulans themselves had attempted to destroy the Gaia citing those exact reasons as justification for their attack.

On the other hand, if the Romulans felt they were in a superior position, they might try to prevent their ships from being destroyed by invoking another universally accepted maxim, namely that all races have the right to protect their property from needless destruction!  They were treading a fine line, and a missed step could mean war.  There was really only one decision possible under the circumstances.

"Before we proceed with the destruction of the two derelicts, we will broadcast our intentions via sub-space transmission on all frequencies known to be monitored by the Romulan Imperial Fleet." Knowing that DeSoto was about to object, Picard held up his hand to forestall him.  "I'm aware of your opinion, Robert.  However, considering the fluidity of the situation we find ourselves in, I don't really see that we have a choice."

"And if the Romulans try to prevent it?  What then, Jean-Luc?"

"That depends on the form their resistance takes, Robert.  If one of their warbirds should interpose itself between our ships and the derelicts, I'm certainly not going to fire upon it if I'm given a choice."

"It would be possible to deploy our ships in such a way as to preclude that from occuring, Captain Picard." Wilson interjected.  She began to manipulate the tactical display to illustrate her point.  "If we widen the range between us, and increase the z-axis displacement, one of us should be able to get a clear shot, even if the Romulans try to take up a position which limits our field of fire."

"Provided only two warbirds are lurking around out there," DeSoto shot back.  "And provided they don't take up a position one-hundred meters from the derelicts!"

"A good point, Robert.  We know that at least one of the Romulan Captains is a bold tactician," Picard replied.

Wilson was stung by DeSoto's casual dismissal of her idea, but it did not deter her from pressing her point of view.  "If they try that, then one of us will have to draw them off!"

DeSoto smiled.  "Are you volunteering for that assignment, Captain?"

"If necessary!"

As Picard watched the interplay between DeSoto and Wilson, he was becoming more and more impressed with the Excalibur's Captain.  There were few officer's he knew who could go toe-to-toe with Robert DeSoto and give as good as they got, and challenging Robert on a tactical issue was something that even Jean-Luc Picard would have to think twice about.  Picard was beginning to understand why DeSoto held such a high opinion of Christina Wilson's abilities.  She was proving herself to be a very capable, although cautious, Captain.  Picard knew from a lifetime of experience that caution was not a bad quality in an individual who commanded a Federation Starship!

If necessary!  Picard wondered if DeSoto had caught that little proviso to her remarks.  "Hopefully, it will not be necessary, Captain Wilson," Picard said, his amusement apparent to someone who knew him as well as DeSoto did.  "Nevertheless, we will plan for that eventuality.  Robert, I believe your talents are more suited to such an assignment."

"Thanks a lot!" DeSoto replied, equally amused.

Wilson was sure that she had missed something, but she wasn't quite sure what it was that she had missed.  Picard and DeSoto both seemed to accept her plan, and to have two such senior officers defer to her was a novel experience.  But they appeared to be more amused than anything else, and she couldn't see anything very funny in the conversation which had just taken place.

Picard's combadge chirped.  He suspected he already knew what the communication was about.  "Yes, Number One?"

"Priority message from Admiral Turner, Starf leet Operations, Captain.  Hard copy, tagged for your eyes only."

"Understood, Commander.  I will be returning to the Enterprise shortly.  Hold the communication on my terminal."

"Acknowledged, Riker out!" Picard and DeSoto exchanged a knowing look. 

"So, Jean-Luc," DeSoto drawled, "I guess this is where we start to disobey orders from on high!"

***
Chapter Eight

When Data and S'dar first entered the Guild scout-craft, both of them were struck by the obvious sophistication of the instrumentation displays.  Determining what information the displays were trying to tell them was another matter entirely.  The symbols scrolling across the display screens were not written in any language that either of them had seen before.

Data first accessed his memory banks on human linguistics in an attempt to determine whether or not the language was based on some obscure Earth tongue.  He quickly discovered that it bore a superficial resemblance to ancient Sumerian, but when he tried to utilize this to read the displays he found that his initial assumption was incorrect.  The language was definitely not Sumerian.

S'dar was equally mystified by'the strange characters on the scout-craft's display terminals.  All along, they had been working with the theory that the scout-craft was designed by humans, and had originated on the planet Earth.  Perhaps it was time to re-evaluate that assumption.

Having reached an impass in relating the displays to any known Earth language, Data decided that the only logical course of action would be to widen his search parameters to include all known language groups.  For that, he would need the language library files of the Enterprise computer, but first he would analyse the physical layout of the scout-craft interior in an attempt to gain some insight into the methodology behind it's design.

The interior of the spacecraft was compact, with each of the three crew positions taking up a minimal amount of space. The only lighting came from the glowing display terminals, casting a greenish-blue hue over everything inside.  Around the circumference of the control room were twelve flat grey panels, and both the ceiling and floor curved up to meet them. The panels themselves looked very much like the main viewscreen aboard a starship, although on a smaller scale. Each of the twelve panels had what appeared to be a linear bar-graph display at the bottom, outlined in green, with a thin red line across them.

One of the crew positions was slightly elevated above the other two, and Data assumed that this
was where the spacecraft commander would sit.  He sat down in the chair and surveyed the interior from that perspective.  S'dar took the seat to his left, which was about two meters forward of the command position, and offset by about one-hundred-twenty degrees.

"An effecient design from the standpoint of crew interaction," S'dar observed, experimentally stroking the control panel in front of him without actually touching any of the recessed finger pads on it's surface.

"I agree, S'dar," Data replied.  "They have made optimum use of the limited space available.  However, I am puzzled as to the nature of the spacecraft itself.  It is clearly not designed as a shuttle-craft to transport crew from one place to another, which leads me to believe that it is some kind of mission-specific design."

"Short range reconnaissance perhaps?  A type of manned probe," S'dar theorized.

"Perhaps, but we have seen no evidence of the large sensor suites which generally are an integral part of that type of spacecraft."

"Obviously, Commander, we must gain access to the vessel's computer system before we can reach any logical conclusions regarding it's purpose."

"Yes," Data agreed.  "I will return to the Enterprise and begin researching the language library in an attempt to find a reference point from which we can begin to decipher the spacecraft's control program."

"There is another possibility, Commander," S'dar ventured.  "This might be a completely new language, in which case there will be no record of it any library file."

Data paused to contemplate S'dar's theory.  If what the Vulcan presumed turned out to be correct, the language used by the Guild could conceivably be untranslatable, in which case they might never be able to access the scout-craf t's,computer.  It was a disappointing prospect.

"Do you have a suggestion as to how we might best proceed, S'dar?" Data asked.

"The physical architecture of the scout-craft's computer has been entered into the Excalibur's engineering console, Commander.  I propose that a program be written to diagnose how this architecture will react to random input commands on a basic electrical level. By tracing the signal routing," he continued.  "We will be able to determine which consoles aboard this vessel control which functions.  The process will be time consuming, but it should produce the desired result, a method by which we can learn to control this spacecraft."

"Very well, S'dar.  Implement your proposal at once.  In the meantime, Centurion Saalesh and I will return to the Enterprise and pursue the other option."

"Excuse me, Commander, but Saalesh might be of more use to the Excalibur team.  She is a talented programmer, and the diagnostic program will be very complex.  The natural endurance of her species could be a great advantage."

The oblique reference to the inherent physical superiority of vulcanoid species was not lost on Data, but he took no issue with it.  It was an obvious fact that Vulcans and Romulans could work longer hours, with less interruptions, and better concentration, than their human counterparts.  As could Data himself.  It was a reasonable request, and perfectly logical that S'dar's suggestion should be acted upon.

"An excellent idea.  I will recommend it to Captain Wilson, S'dar."

Data took one last look around, reviewing  the interior and adding it's physical layout to the substantial file he was accumulating within his own memory circuits. Then both he and S'dar exited the spacecraft.

****

Captains Picard, Wilson, and DeSoto were gathered around the engineering console, in conversation with Lieutenant Commander LaForge.  They turned as Data and S'dar emerged from the scout-craft, and walked over to the engineering console.

"Ah, Mr. Data.  Any progress?" Picard asked immediately. 

"We have been unable to decipher the scout-craft's control program, Captain.  The program is written in characters which are not derived from any known language from the planet Earth."

"I see... Is it possible that the spacecraft originated elsewhere?"

"I am intending to return to the Enterprise to explore that possibility, Captain," Data replied.  Turning to Captain Wilson, he continued.  "S'dar has suggested an alternative method of gaining control of the scout-craft.  He has hypothesized that we can devise a diagnostic routine to test the control functions of the scout-craft's computer."

Wilson turned to her Science Officer.  "Please explain, Mr. S'dar."

"The architecture of the ship's computer has been fully documented by the sensor scans Commander LaForge has completed, and this information is available on the Excalibur's engineering console."

That's true," Geordi agreed.

"Therefore," S'dar continued, ignoring the interruption. "It will be possible to write a diagnostic program to test this architecture.  It will be necessary to trace each signal path in the engineering file, and document the corresponding control circuitry."

"And that way we can find out how to control the spacecraft, without necessafily understanding the original language that was used to program the ship's computer!" LaForge concluded, his enthusiasm evident.

"Sounds time consuming," Wilson countered.

"The initial programming for the diagnostic routine will be labour intensive," S'dar acknowledged.

"For that reason, Captain Wilson," Data said. "S'dar has requested that Centurion Saalesh be assigned to his team.  She is the only person aboard with the requisite programming experience, and the physical stamina to keep up with a Vulcan."

Wilson did not like it, but she was forced to acknowledge the logical nature of S'dar's request. The Romulan had been helpful when they powered up the scout-craft, she thought, and although she was technically an enemy, Wilson was finding it harder and harder to think of her as such.  "Very well, S'dar.  However, the Centurion is to be kept under close supervision at all times," she ordered. "And I will hold you personally reponsible if she commits any act that endangers this vessel.  Understood!"

"Understood, Captain," S'dar replied, accepting the responsibility for the Romulan officer's good behaviour.

Wilson then turned to face Saalesh, who up until now had remained in the background, quietly observing the interaction between the Federation officers. "Are you quite clear on those conditions, Centurion?" Wilson asked, rather forcefully.

"Yes, Captain Wilson," Saalesh responded quietly. "Your confidence honours me," she added, in a very formal tone of voice.

"Very well then,carry on."

S'dar and Saalesh left to carry out their assignment, leaving Data, Geordi, and the three Captains, alone on the Excalibur's hanger deck.

"Captain Wilson, I suggest you post a guard on this vessel," Picard recommended.  "It seems that once the craft is powered-up, there's no way to shut it down.  Someone should be here to monitor these sensors, and if necessary, eject the spacecraft from your hanger."

"I concur," Wilson agreed.  "It's funny how it just sits there, steady as a rock, isn't it?"

Picard slowly nodded his head in the affirmative. "Yes.  If McLaughlin and his team really did design that vessel, I can understand why it would frighten the governments of the day.  The technology is light-years ahead of anything the nation states of Earth possessed at that time!"

"He must have been an extraordinary man," Wilson murmured, almost to herself.

"A true giant," Data said, taking the opportunity to dispense some of the voluminous knowledge he had recently acquired on the subject.  "His doctoral thesis on the mechanics of navigation at velocities exceeding the speed of light, shook the astro-physics community to it's foundations.  Particularly, as it was put forward by a man who was only twenty-three years of age."

"His theorem proved to be correct, Mr. Data," Wilson said.  "Even if he was only twenty-three years old!"

"Unfortunately Captain," Data continued.  "It took nearly one hundred years for the proof to which you refer to be documented.  Only after Ephram Cochrane's invention of the warp-drive, was McLaughlin's theorem proved to be correct."

"So he died without ever knowing that he was right," Geordi commented.  "Kind of tragic, isn't it?"

"Actually, Geordi, there is no record of McLaughlin's death.  He simply disappeared after the United Nations imposed sanctions upon the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild."

"Yes," Picard said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "The same United Nations that would plunge the planet into it's third World War!"

Data felt compelled to correct his Captain's misinformation.   "Actually, it was the break-down of the United Nations which led to the Third World War, Captain.  And which would lead to the Eugenics Wars soon afterward."

"Semantics, Data!  It was the attitude of the geopolitical power blocks of that period which encouraged both conflicts to occur!"  An attitude that in some respects remains unchanged, even now, Picard thought.  The quest for strategic leverage, that's what is really involved in this mission.  With sudden clarity, Picard thought he saw what Admiral Turner's real motives might be.

"It's time we returned to the Enterprise.  Captain Wilson, we will hold a full staff briefing in two hours.  In the meantime, have your Tactical Officer fully develop your plan to counter any Romulan intervention in our destruction of the two derelict cruisers.  I expect you to co-ordinate these plans with Lieutenant Worf aboard the Enterprise," Picard ordered.

"Consider it done, Captain," Wilson readily agreed.

"Very well."  Picard opened the communications channel on his combadge.  "Picard to Enterprise, four to beam over."

Wilson watched Picard, DeSoto, Data, and Laforge disappear in the shimmering effect of the transporter beam, and then tapped her combadge.  "Wilson to Security."

"Security here, Captain," Lieutenant Ursal replied immediately from his station on the Excalibur's bridge.

"Mr. Ursal, have a guard posted outside the entrance to the main hanger deck.  No admittance without my specific authorization, and assign someone to monitor the sensor array in the hanger itself."

"Understood, Captain!"

"Once you've done that, Lieutenant, meet me in my ready room.  Wilson out!"

"Acknowledge, Sir!"

****

For only the second time in her life, Saalesh was working in close proximity to a person who had been born on the planet Vulcan.  To her, it was an almost mystical place.  The planet which had given birth to her entire species.  From the time she was a little girl, she dreamed of one day returning to that world.  Of bringing the circle to a close, her own personal reunification.

In many respects, Saalesh was an anachronism, a thing out of place.  Although raised on the Romulan home-world, she was in fact more Vulcan than Romulan, and fully one-quarter of her DNA was derived from the human genetic pool.  This unique bloodline had always caused her to feel a sense of isolation, an isolation that was only partially eased by the reappearance of her father, after many years separation.  S'dar was actually the only full-blooded Vulcan she had ever met, and to say the he intrigued her would be an understatement of gigantic proportions.  She was absolutely fascinated by the Excalibur's Science Officer.

For his part, S'dar studiously ignored the Romulan officer, although he was uncomfortably aware of her intense scrutiny   Although not terribly telepathic, by Vulcan standards, he could hardly help but notice her interest in him.  Regret was too emotional a concept for him to admit to, but he was beginning to reassess the logic of asking for Saalesh's help in the design of the scout-craft diagnostic program.

Saalesh... an interesting name.  One part of his mind toyed with the possible root-derivatives of such a name, while at the same time, he outlined the parameters of the complex diagnostic routine and passed them to the computer terminal occupied by the Romulan female.  It was not a traditional Romulan prefix, S'dar mused.  Saa' simply meant small thing or when used to describe something specific, little or even tiny.  It could also be a form of dismissive expletive.  As in, Saa'!... which meant- it is of little consequence.  The root of the diminutive 'lesh', eluded him.

"Commander S'dar, I wish to express my gratitude for the confidence you have placed upon my abilities."

S'dar turned to face her, before replying. "Gratitude is illogical.  It is neither expected nor deserved.  Your abilities speak for themselves."

Saalesh tried another tactic in her attempt to open a dialogue with the Vulcan.  "Your captain does not trust me."

The statement was not phrased as a question, but S'dar realized that the Romulan officer was seeking some insight into the human psyche.  He felt illequipped to deal with such an inquiry, human thought processes were as mystifying to him as they must be to her.  Nonetheless, because of his longer association with the species, he felt an obligation to at least attempt an explanation which would satisfy her curiosity.  "Among humans," he began.  "Trust is a fragile commodity, more often based on instinct, than a logical evaluation of empirical evidence."

"Are you saying that Captain Wilson will never trust me, simply because I am Romulan?"

"In all likelyhood, that is a valid assumption," he concluded.

Saalesh digested this information in silence. Humans, it would seem, were more interested in
perpetuating a cultural bias, than in discovering the true nature of a person's character.  Is this what I have to look forward to, she wondered?  Is the Federation no less xenophobic than the Romulan Empire?

****

Captain Picard and Lieutenant Worf were the last ones to arrive at the joint-staff briefing.  In addition to the Enterprise senior staff, Desoto from the Hood, and Captain Wilson and Commander S'dar from the Excalibur, were present.  As well as the two Romulans, Commander Srelal and Centurion Saalesh.  Commander McFadden was also there.  Picard immediately called the meeting to order.

"Mr. Data, please begin your briefing," Picard ordered, as he and Worf took their seats.

Data went to the wall-monitor, and called up his research notes on the Guild language project. "Initially," Data began, "All attempts to link the Guild language with any known written language failed.  The library computer failed to connect the characters taken from the scout-craft display monitors with any known alphabet, either human or alien based."

"Initially, Data?  Does that mean you have found a connection," Riker asked.

"Yes, Commander," Data answered.  "When the primary search parameters found nothing of significance, I began an analysis of the Guild language itself, concentrating on the establishment of a syntax file."  Data changed the display on the conference room monitor to clarify his point.

"Although the Enterprise computer was unable to decode the language through the universal translator, it was able to detect a pattern."  The display changed again, this time to a split-screen.  "On the left screen is a sample of the characters taken from the Guild scout-craft monitors.  You will notice that the characters scroll from left to right, but that there are no spaces between them to delineate individual words."

"Get to the point, Data!" Picard ordered tersely, from his position at the head of the conference table.

"Yes, Sir," Data replied, somewhat chastened. "On the right screen are the same characters, but in this instance the computer has deleted a single character throughout the entire text.  Obviously, it is this character which delineates separate words, thereby establishing a base syntax for the language."

"Can the universal translator decode the Guild language using this base syntax, Mr. Data," DeSoto asked.

"Not at the moment, Captain.  There are still certain key elements of the language missing. However, just prior to your arrival, Commander S'dar and Centurion Saalesh informed me that their work in tracing the scout-craft's control circuitry may provide a clue, and we are about to conduct an experiment to ascertain the accuracy of their theory."

"Commander S'dar?" Picard inquired.

S'dar stood up and took Data's place at the monitor.  "During the signal tracing diagnostic that the Centurion and I conducted, it became obvious that the scout-craft control system is divided into three separate sub-systems."  S'dar called up a flow-chart to illustrate the control system of the Guild spacecraft.  "The sub-systems break down as follows, the green areas designate circuits dedicated to navigation and communication functions, the blue areas are systems monitoring and power management controls, including weapons systems, and the red areas designate command architecture and the control systems used to actually fly the spacecraft.  The command architecture," he continued, "Is equipped with override mechanisms, providing the scout-craft's commanding officer with the ability to tranfer all systems to his direct control, and repeater consoles of the other two crew positions are available as flip-up modules at the command station."

"Sophisticated layout," Captain Wilson commented. "How does your analysis relate to deciphering the language itself, S'dar?' she asked.

"By looking at the control function circuitry, and relating this information to the work done by Commander Data, Centurion Saalesh and I have come to the conclusion that the language used by the Guild is in fact a transmuted version of Earth Standard."

"English?" Riker asked increduously.

"That is correct, Commander Riker," S'dar replied. "English."

"An interesting hypothesis, S'dar," Picard said. "Please demonstrate."

"Computer... using old Earth Standard as a reference, access universal translator function and compare syntax of Guild language to that of reference language."

"Working... language syntax is identical."

"Extrapolate, download sample translation to this terminal," S'dar requested.

The officers gathered around the conference table waited expectantly for the computer to comply with S'dar's instruction.  Almost immediately, the Guild character groups on the right side of Data's split-screen analysis began to change to English text.

"I'll be damned," Riker muttered.  "It is English!" 

Very clever, Picard thought to himself.  If it weren't for the universal translator capabilities of the Enterprise computer, there would be no way to decode the Guild writing.  A security measure which would be virtually foolproof in the twentyfirst century, given the limited sophistication of computers during that era.

"It would seem, Captain," Data said.  "That what the designers of this spacecraft have in fact done, is write a new alphabet for an old language!"

Picard nodded in acknowledgment.  "Very good work people," he said.  "Now, the question that remains is, can you actually use this information to fly that vessel?"

For the first time during the briefing, Geordi spoke up from the opposite end of the table.  "Now that we know what the language is, Captain.  It should be possible to dump the entire contents of the scout-craft computer into our own memory banks, translate it, and reload the translated file back into the Guild computer!"  He paused, thinking of the exact method that would need to be used.  "We might have to hard-wire the two computers together, but now that S'dar has completed his analysis of the scout-crafts overall control system, that shouldn't be a problem."

"Very well, Mr. LaForge.  As soon as this briefing is completed, make it so!"

"Aye, Sir!" "Anything you wish to add, Data?" Picard asked.

"Yes, Captain," Data replied.  "As per your instructions, I have modified one of the Enterprise's emergency locator beacons so that we may transmit a message to the Gaia, if it should appear.  As you are aware," he continued.  "The Guild vessel uses a mid-spectrum, laser-comm system as a primary means of communication.  Neither the Enterprise, nor any of the other ships in the task-force is equipped with a compatible transmission device. Therefore, the modification of the Emergency Locator Beacon is the easiest way to circumvent this deficiency."

"How does it work, Mr. Data?" Captain DeSoto asked.

"As you know, the ELB system transmits a recorded message when the crew of a starship becomes incapacitated due to a catastrophic failure of the life-support system.  The tranmitted signal is keyed  to high-intensity strobe lights located on both the fore and aft sections of the primary hull.  By phase shifting the colour of the strobe, and tying it to the sub-space transmitter circuitry, we will be able to modulate the strobe frequency to allow voice communication with the Gaia."

"How do you know that the Guild ship will be able to recieve our tranmission, Data?" Riker asked.

"The strobe will be visible at a distance of one million kilometers, Commander.  The phase shift from white to green will be obvious   I believe the crew of the Gaia will recognize our attempt at communication for what it is, and respond accordingly."

"If they don't blow you out of space first!" Commander Srelal snarled from her place midway down the conference table.

"You have an objection, Commander?" Picard inquired mildly.

****

Troi felt the tension around the table rise appreciably, and her empathic sense responded with an appropriate increase in her own heart rate and respiration.  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lieutenant Worf lean forward, the whole of his attention focused on the Romulan Commander. Ready, as always, to defend his Captain should the need arise.

Troi began the process of filtering out the emotions of the various people around the table, while at the same time bringing her initial response to the emotional turmoil being projected under control.  For a full-telepath, this filtering process was second nature, but for her it was always the most difficult of the tasks she performed as Ship's Counselor.  Separating the unconscious responses of a group of humans was hard enough, but when the complication of diverse species was added to the equation, it became an exhausting exercise.

Captain Picard had alerted her prior to the commencement of the briefing, to pay special attention to Commander McFadden, but before she could do so, she had to put her own thoughts in order. Will Riker was the first emotional presence that she was able to clearly identify, and the other members of the Enterprise staff soon followed. It was harder to separate the emotions of the Vulcanoids. S'dar kept himself tightly under control, and so stood out from the other two, but both Saalesh and Srelal were harder to read, and hence, harder to identify as individuals.  Next came the other Federation officers, DeSoto projected a calm authority, much like her own Captain.  From Captain Wilson she received an image of uncertainty which fit the junior Captain's profile.  The last person at the table was McFadden, and Troi was surprised to find that the Intelligence Officer was projecting a sense of smug satisfaction.

For a second, Troi doubted what her senses were telling her.  That can't be right.  Why would he
be encouraged by a disagreement between Commander Srelal and the Captain?  Troi concentrated her empathic senses, and focused her attention on McFadden, as Picard and the Romulan Commander continued their discussion.

"My objection is simply this, Picard." Srelal stated forcefully.  "...opening a dialogue with these murderers is ridiculous!  Take my advice, Captain.  If you get the opportunity, destroy them! Before they destroy you!"

Picard steepled his fingers in front of his face in a characteristic gesture, and asked pointedly, "Is this the official policy of the Imperial Fleet, Commander, or simply a personal preference?"

"Call it what you will, Picard.  The facts speak for themselves!"

"The facts... Commander, seem to indicate quite clearly that the Guild vessel was attempting to communicate when your cruiser opened fire without provocation!" Picard fumed, his anger evident.

"Without provocation!  I beg to differ, Captain! The hostile has destroyed over twenty ships of the Imperial Fleet!  How much provocation would you need before defending yourself!" Srelal added sarcastically.

Troi watched McFadden carefully.  The man possessed an excellent capacity for cloaking his emotions, but she was able to detect subtle signals that a non-empath would miss.  Under his poker-faced veneer, McFadden was positively gleeful at the turn that the discussion had taken!  Why, she wondered?

Troi did not often use the full range of her Betazoid abilities, but under certain circumstances, and
as distasteful as it was to her personal code of ethics, she was able to do more than just read a person's emotional state.  She used one of those little used Betazoid abilities now, and actively probed McFadden's mind.

He became aware of her presence almost immediately, and attempted to erect a mental shield, but it was too late.  Troi felt the man's anger as a physical sensation, and she shuddered, but strangely the anger was directed not at her, but at himself. Should have been prepared for her tricks' the thought was fleeting, but as clear to her as if he had spoken out loud.

The next thing that Troi encountered were grossly erotic images of McFadden and herself.  She recognized the ploy as an attempt to shock her out of his consciousness, and steeling herself for the effort, pushed passed them to the deeper levels below.

It was like going through rapids and then finding yourself in a calm pool of clear water.  She glimpsed the complexity of the man, as well as his driving ambition, and sense of duty.  The confrontation with Riker, with it's glaring implications of physical violence shocked her, and she knew with absolute certainty that McFadden was quite capable of killing the most important person in her life!

The mission... Troi was unprepared for what she learned in that brief instant before physical exhaustion forced her to withdraw.  The callous manner in which McFadden was intending to carry out Admiral Turner's secret orders chilled her to her very soul.  The last thought, directed specifically at her, echoed in her mind as she slumped in her seat.  "The mission must go forward, no matter the cost!"

****

"Deanna!"

Riker's surprised exclamation caused everyone at the table to turn in that direction.  Dr. Crusher was immediately at the Counselor's side, and began to scan Troi's vital signs with her medical tri-corder.

"She's unconscious!" Crusher tapped her combadge. "Emergency medical team, report to Conference Room One, on the double!"

"What's wrong with her, Doctor?" Riker asked anxiously, his concern written clearly on his face.

"I'll know more when we get her to sickbay, but my initial diagnosis is simple exhaustion. She hasn't been sleeping well lately, and I think it just all caught up to her at once."

"Are you sure that's all it is, Doctor Crusher?" Picard inquired.

"No Captain, I'm not positively sure of anything," Crusher replied, with a tinge of petulance.

Picard seemed to be about to say something else, but paused, and  Riker noticed him looking in the direction of Centurion Saalesh.  He followed his gaze and was startled to find the Romulan officer staring at Commander McFadden with a look of absolute loathing.

"What is it, Centurion?" Picard demanded. 

Saalesh wasn't quite sure how to respond to Captain Picard's question.  The feeling that McFadden was responsible for Counselor Troi's sudden collapse had insinuated itself into her mind without her even being consciously aware of it, but one look at the man's face turned her suspicion into a certainty. Nonetheless, she had no real evidence on which to base an accusation.  Unlike Vulcan's, Romulan children were not trained in the mind-disciplines, and although she possessed a rudimentary grasp of the principles involved in mind-to-mind communication, she had neither the training nor the confidence to attempt such a thing of her own volition.

Picard knew that the Romulan officer had picked up on something that no-one else at the table had noticed.  He also realized that she might not be comfortable expressing her thoughts in such a public forum, but he could not see any reasonable alternative. His glance shifted from Saalesh to McFadden and back again, seeking a solution which would protect the Romulan's privacy while at the same time giving him access to the information that he was sure she possessed.  Then he noticed S'dar, and an idea took root.

The arrival of the emergency medical team gave Picard the excuse he needed to clear the room. "I suggest we suspend this briefing for fifteen minutes, in order to give Dr. Crusher a chance to more closely examine her patient.  I will expect a full report on Counselor Troi's condition when the  meeting reconvenes, Doctor."

"Aye, Captain," Crusher replied, as she supervised the lifting of Troi onto the stretcher, and ushered her Emergency Response Team out the door.

Picard then looked toward his First Officer. "Commander Riker, accompany the Doctor to sick-bay."

"Aye, Sir!" Riker jumped to comply with the order.  His relief at being able to keep an eye on Couselor Troi was obvious, at least to his Captain, but no-one else in the room seemed to notice.

"Captain Wilson,  I would like you and your Second Officer to accompany me to my ready room.  I have some questions regarding the matter we discussed earlier."

"Very well, Captain," Wilson agreed.

"Commander Srelal, I believe that you and the Centurion should be there as well."

"What's this about, Picard?" the Romulan Commander asked.

"Suffice it to say, Commander, the matter under discussion concerns you and the Imperial Fleet. I think it would behoove you to attend."

Her curiosity piqued by Picard's enigmatic comment, Srelal decided to accept the Federation Captain's invitation.  "Then by all means, Captain, lead on!"

Picard grimaced at the Romulan's flippant tone. It reminded him of another Romulan woman, who he would just as soon forget.  The woman who claimed to be the daughter of Tasha Yar.  However, that was another matter entirely, and he put it from his mind, refusing to allow his feelings about Sela to colour his judgment of Commander Srelal. "Please follow me, Commander," Picard said, rising from the conference table, and leaving the room.

****

Riker had been banished to a waiting area almost as soon as he arrived in sick-bay.  He paced nervously, his concern for Troi mounting by the second.  Mow that he thought about it, Deanna had been acting strangely for the past day or so, and he berrated himself for not bringing it to Dr. Crusher's attention before her collapse at the staff briefing.

Crusher walked out of the examining room, and Riker could see from her expression that there was something about Troi's condition that the Doctor found troubling.  "What is it, Doctor?"

Seeing how concerned Riker was, Crusher first tried to reassure him.  "Physically, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong, Will.  At least, nothing seriously wrong, but she is suffering from chronic fatigue."

"So all she needs is a good nights sleep?"

"That's part of it."  Crusher paused, as if trying to find the right choice of words.  "There's something else as well, her brain chemistry seems to be a little off."

"A little off?  What the hell does that mean?"

"The readings are still within Betazed norms, but they're not typical of Deanna herself   The only thing I could compare it to in human terms is a muscle strain.  It's almost as if she overexerted herself in some way."

"She's an empath, Doctor!  How could she overexert herself?"

The doctor's frustation was evident.  "I don't know, Commander!  We're running a full neurological examination, just to be sure, but I don't think she's in any danger."

That was small comfort, Riker thought in exasperation. People don't lapse into unconsciousness without reason!

***

Chapter Nine

Picard's face remained impassive as he listened to Dr. Crusher's report on Counselor Troi's condition. "Very well, Doctor.  Keep me informed.  Picard out!"

Damn! he thought.  I need Troi's guidance now more than ever!  Although concerned for Deanna's health on a personal level, Picard always put the welfare of his ship first, and the Enterprise needed it's Ship's Counselor if they were to come through this crisis unscathed.  Without Troi by his side to give him some indication of an opponent's emotional state, whether Romulan or human, the Federation starships would be at a severe disadvantage.  He had come to rely on Troi's judgement very heavily over the years. She was an integral part of the bridge crew, and her absence would be keenly felt in any confrontation.  Picard could only hope that she would spontaneously recover sometime in the next few hours!

Having thought through the implications of Troi's, he hoped temporary, removal from the bridge roster, Picard turned to the reason for this private meeting. "Centurion Saalesh, I received the distinct impression during the briefing that you picked up on some interplay between Counselor Troi and Commander McFadden.  Could you describe it to us please?"

"I am not sure what it was I felt, Captain Picard. It was like a mental ... tickle."

The description was an apt one, Picard thought. If asked, it was almost exactly how he would describe his first impression of the Vulcan mind-meld. A tickle, but really a gentle probing of one's thoughts, as a preliminary step in the more intrusive experience of joining one mind to another!

Saalesh felt foolish for putting her impressions of the incident in such childish terms.  She was still unsure of herself where humans were concerned. Their thought processes seemed so different from her own that it was impossible for her to judge their reaction to anything she might say.  And this increased the difficulty she had in putting her innermost impressions into words that the Captain would understand.

The Captain.  She suddenly realized that she was beginning to think of Captain Picard as her commanding officer, and without being consciously aware of it, was coming to view herself as a member of the Enterprise crew.  If such a thing could one day become possible, it would be a fitting tribute to her parents, whose personal histories were so inextricably linked with that of the starship Enterprise!

The knowledge that Commander Srelal was sitting beside her on the couch in Picard's ready room, forced her to consider the present, and put aside all thoughts of a future on board the Enterprise, or anywhere else in the Federation.  There were many hurdles yet to cross before her dreams of becoming a citizen of the Federation were realized. Not the least of which, was the elemental problem of surviving Srelal's wrath, and that of the entire Romulan Imperial Fleet, when they became aware of her defection, as sooner or later they must.

Picard's attention was drawn to S'dar, on whom so much now depended.  The Vulcan seemed to visibly tense under Picard's scrutiny, as if suspecting what the Task Force Commander had in mind.  The senior officer knew from personal experience that what he was about to ask the Vulcan to do would not be easy.  The mind-meld was not something to be entered into lightly, and the Excalibur's Second Officer would be perfectly justified in refusing Picard's request, but he hoped that S'dar would agree to make the attempt.  Not only did the Centurion possess what might be critically important information about Commander McFadden's real mission, Picard also needed to know more about Saalesh herself. Was she truly what she purported herself to be?

"Centurion," Picard began.  "There is a method by which we might be able to find out what it was you sensed going on between Counselor Troi and Commander McFadden."

Saalesh detected an undercurrent:of tension between S'dar and Captain Picard after he made this statement, and she wondered what it might mean.  How could the Captain find out what was in her mind when she herself could not put it into rational terms?

"What are you talking about, Picard? Srelal asked suspiciously.  "The Centurion has already told you that she cannot be sure that she sensed anything.  I will not have one of my officers subjected to any Federation experiments!"

Picard hid his exasperation at Srelal's interruption as best he could.  "Commander, I have no intention of subjecting the Centurion, or anyone else, to an experiment of any kind!  I was referring to a procedure which has been used successfully for thousands of years on the planet Vulcan."

"A mind-meld!"  The Romulan Commander appeared genuinely shocked by the suggestion.  "Out of the question!  We will not be a party to any of that Vulcan witchcraft, Picard!"

"Come now, Commander.  Surely you don't believe in witchcraft?" Picard shot back, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

"What would you call it, Captain?" Srelal replied, with equal venom.

Saalesh was frightened, but at the same time intrigued, with the prospect of sharing her thoughts with the Vulcan officer.  It was after all, her decision to make.  "I will agree to undergo the mind-meld, Captain Picard."

"You will do no such thing, Centurion!  I forbid it!" Srelal spat in their native language.

"You cannot forbid it, Commander Srelal," Saalesh replied in the same tongue.  "I formally reject your command, and disavow your authority over me."

The universal translator was not on line, so Picard had no way of knowing exactly what had transpired between the two Romulans, but he recognized raw anger when he saw it, and there was no mistaking the look of firm resolve on the face of the younger of the two officers.  Picard did not doubt that, had she been armed, Srelal might have killed the Centurion then and there.  The potential for violence between them was palpable.  "I would appreciate it if you spoke in a language we can all understand, Commander."

Srelal broke eye contact with the Centurion and turned to face Picard.  "The Centurion has just committed an act of treason, Captain Picard. By agreeing to take part in this mind-meld, she has disobeyed a direct order from her commanding officer, and forfeit her life in the process!"

"As long as she is aboard the Enterprise, Centurion Saalesh is under my protection, Commander!  Is that clear!"

"Of course, Picard.  I wouldn't dream of soiling your fine carpets with the blood of a traitor!"

Picard debated with himself whether or not to divulge the fact that he had already granted Saalesh political asylum, but decided that now was not the time to play that card.  He was still not sure that Srelal and Saalesh were not playing out some elaborate ruse, and although he instinctively tended to trust the young Romulan, his responsibilities dictated that he err on the side of caution.
Besides which, he thought, if Srelal knew the full extent of the Centurion's defection, she might reconsider her promise not to soil the carpets of the Enterprise with the young woman's blood!

Saalesh's agreement to undergo the mind-meld further strengthened Picard's belief that he had made the correct decision in granting her request for political asylum.  He was still haunted by the impression that there was something tantalizingly familiar about the way she carried herself.  She reminded him of someone, and it irritated him that he could not bring to mind the circumstances which triggered that tenuous connection to some past encounter.  This thought continued to float at the back of his mind, even as he began framing the request he was about to make of the Vulcan, S'dar.

"S'dar, I realize that what I am about to ask of you is difficult, and that attempting a mind-meld with Centurion Saalesh is a grave imposition on your right to privacy.  I assure you that I do not make this request lightly, but I am also convinced that the incident between Counselor Troi and Commander McFadden may be crucial to the survival of this Task Force, and it would be irresponsible of me, as Task Force Commander, not to learn everything I can about Commander McFadden's mission.  I believe," Picard continued.  "That the Centurion may have unconsciously picked up a telepathic exchange between McFadden and Counselor Troi which led to Troi's collapse, and the only way to find out if that is true is to learn what is in Saalesh's mind."

S'dar could not think of any logical reason to deny Captain Picard's request, although the
idea of melding with the Romulan female filled him with trepidation.  The Romulans, unlike their Vulcan cousins, tended to give free reign to their emotions, and who knew what chaos lurked behind the Centurion's composed exterior.

If it had been anyone other than Jean-Luc Picard who asked this of him, S'dar might have refused outright.  Even considering the source of the request, the temptation to refuse was strong, but Captain Picard's assumption that Saalesh might have picked up some silent communication between Troi and McFadden was probably correct.  The Romulan, untrained in the mind-disciplines, was still a product of Vulcanoid genetics, and the likelyhood of her having strong latent telepathic abilities was high.  Besides which, S'dar could  admit  to a certain curiosity about Saalesh, who did not strike him as a stereotypical Romulan officer.

"I will agree to make the attempt, Captain Picard."

Captain Wilson was not sure she liked the idea of her Second Officer linking minds with Saalesh anymore than Commander Srelal did.  The idea that S'dar had the ability to enter a person's mind and extract information, quite frankly, frightened the hell out of her!  It did seem like witchcraft, but she also knew that very few humans were ever given the opportunity to witness the ancient Vulcan ritual, and so she kept her misgivings to herself.

Once it was clear that the mind-meld would take place, with or without her approval, Srelal resolved to make the best of the situation.  She certainly was not about to excuse herself and possibly miss the opportunity to gain valuable intelligence information.

She could deal with Saalesh's treasonous actions at her leisure.  Sooner or later they would be returned to a Romulan ship, at which time the Centurion could be properly court-martialed, and then executed!

Srelal watched closely as the Vulcan gently placed his left thumb under Saalesh's jaw, the last two fingers of his hand went to her temple, and the third sought out the small pulse under her eye, close to the nose.  She saw Saalesh's eyes momentarily widen in surprise, and then close as the Vulcan began to speak softly.

"... my mind to your mind, our thoughts as one, our hearts beating with one rhythm, our souls touch...

The first thing that S'dar became aware of was Saalesh's strong attraction to him, and it almost caused him to withdraw then and there.  Her mind was literally awhirl with conflicting hopes and desires. He felt as if he were being sucked into a wormhole with little hope of escape, and it took every ounce of control he possessed to make order out of the chaos!

S'dar consciously lowered their combined heart rate, beginning the process of sifting through the Romulan woman's memories in an attempt to construct for himself the methodology of her thinking.  At the same time, he tried to shield himself as much as possible from her own probes into his psyche. She was a strong telepath, instinctively much stronger than he, but she lacked the discipline to make effective use of her ability.

That she was not, as he had suspected, a typical Romulan, quickly became obvious.  He was amazed to learn the identity of her parents, captured from a fleeting childhood memory.  It explained much of the confusion she felt toward humans, and her intense curiosity concerning all things Vulcan. A planet that she had never seen.  The place where her father had been born, and where the katra of her paternal grandmother still resided in the Hall of Ancient Thought, beneath the sacred mountains of Gol.

You are the progeny of modern-day legends, he thought, they thought together.  One parent living, the other dead, separated from both of them for most of her life.

He experienced the anguish she felt over the death of her mother, and wondered that any rational being could allow themselves to feel such emotional pain.

Do you not grieve when someone you love dies? she asked, the thought reverberating in both their minds.

Grief is one thing, becoming emotionally overwrought is another matter entirely, and serves no logical purpose.

Some things must transcend pure logic, she responded.   The ties that bind sentient beings to each other are not always logical, nor should they be.

The thought was diametrically opposed to everything S'dar believed.  Without logic, we are lost, he thought in response.  Love is a human word, there is no Vulcan equivalent.

For the word perhaps, she chastised him gently. There is always an equivalent for the emotion.  My father is Vulcan, and yet he loves me nonetheless.

Your father is half human.  If he has chosen his own path toward enlightenment, I cannot fault his logic in doing so.

Do all Vulcans hide their feelings as you do?

How to explain this cornerstone of Vulcan philosophy, the linear beauty of logic, without opening himself more fully than he was prepared to do?  Could she ever understand the peace that Surak had brought to his world?

The transcending of base emotion to reach the logical interpretation of those emotions is not the same as hiding one's feelings, he thought to her.  And then he allowed her a glimpse of his inner being.  This is what reunification will mean for our people, the philosophy that guides us, that defines us as a species.  This is your heritage.

For the first time, she truly understood the magnitude of the thing that Spock was attempting. Each individual must choose for himself the path toward reunification, toward the liberation of spirit that was Surak's greatest gift to his people.  Logic must be in and of itself logical, on a completely personal level, for it to have any meaning.  Otherwise, it is simply an exercise to avoid the truth.

I understand, she thought, they thought together. The discipline of the Vulcan, which humans believed to be so constricting, had in fact freed them from their centuries long bondage to animal passions. She felt the exhilaration of new-found insight, and together they examined the emotion until finally, she was able to discard it.  It was the first step on a lifetime's journey toward self-awareness, and self-control.

We must move on, the Captain is waiting.

She was able to move with him now, bringing to the surface vague impressions, and dissecting the memories hidden within.  The both felt the intrusion of Troi's mind-probe, McFadden's feeble attempt to block it, and finally the true nature of his mission stood revealed...

****

Srelal was surprised when the Vulcan abruptly -removed bis fingers from the contact points on Saalesh's face. She hadn't expected the mind-meld to end so quickly.

The same thought occured to Captain Wilson. If S'dar was able to extract the kind of information Picard was after in so short a time...  Well, she was certainly glad that the Vulcans were members of the Federation, and not a hostile enemy!  For a human, that kind of power was the stuff of which nightmares were made!

Picard allowed the two of them a few moments to collect themselves before making any inquiries as to whether or not the mind-meld had been successful. His patient demeanor was a facade, belying the anxiety he was actually experiencing.  McFadden was a wild card, in what was otherwise a carefully considered plan.  Picard intended to bring the Gaia and her crew home, while at the same time preventing a localized incident from becoming the spark which might ignite an inter-stellar war, but to do that, he needed to know exactly what Admiral Turner had in mind.  The only person who possessed that critical information was Commander McFadden, and Picard was determined to get it, one way or another!

"You were correct, Captain Picard.  Commander McFadden was inadvertently responsible for Counselor Troi's collapse."

Something in the Vulcan's tone of voice alerted Picard to the fact that the man had learned much more than he had intended, or perhaps wished, to learn about both McFadden and Saalesh.
"Please explain, S'dar.  What do you mean by inadvertently?"

It was Saalesh who replied to the Captain's query.  "Counselor Troi attempted an active probe of McFadden's psyche.  The attempt was successful, but it severely taxed the Counselor's normal energy reserves, causing her to lapse into unconsciousness."

"I see."  In reality, Picard was shocked by the revelation that Troi could probe someone's mind.  It was an ability that the Counselor had never revealed, at least to her Captain.

"You said the attempt was successful, Centurion. What did the Counselor learn about Commander McFadden's mission?" Srelal asked peremptorily.

"Captain Picard, I do not believe that Commander Srelal should be privy to such information," cautioned Captain Wilson.  "McFadden's mission, whether we agree with it's objectives or not, was given to him by Starfleet's Chief of Operations."

Picard had no intention of breaching Starfleet regulations concerning operational security, and did not need to be reminded of those regulations by a junior Captain, but Wilson's warning served a useful purpose.  It gave him an excuse to put Commander Srelal on notice that her presence at staff briefings, and private meetings like this one, was a professional courtesy which he could choose to revoke at any time.  "Did Commander McFadden's mission originate with Admiral Turner, S'dar?"

"That is correct, Captain."

"In that case, I am afraid that Captain Wilson's concerns are quite justified.  You will have to excuse us, Commander Srelal.  If I make the determination that no breach of security will result from your being informed of the details of Commander McFadden's mission, you will be fully briefed."

Picard tapped his combadge, opening the communications channel.  "Security, please have an officer report to my ready room to escort Commander Srelal back to her quarters."

"Security,  Lieutenant Worf here, Sir.  I will personally escort the Commander to her quarters."

"Very good, Lieutenant.  Picard out."

The Romulan officer kept her expression carefully neutral, as she rose from her seat to comply with Picard's politely worded order, but inside she was absolutely livid with rage!  How dare he refuse to allow her to hear the testimony of her own officer! "Am I to be confined to my quarters like a common criminal, Picard?"

"Nonsense, Commander!" Picard replied.  "This is a simple, and understandable, security precaution. I am sure that if our roles were reversed, you would exercise the same sort of prudence."

"No doubt," the Romulan responded, her voice carrying an edge of sarcasm.  She then turned to Saalesh.  "We will speak later, Centurion!"

"As you wish, Commander."

There was something different in the Centurion's attitude, Srelal thought.  She seems to have developed a confidence that was lacking when they were aboard the Ko'Leur.  Saalesh had always been a relatively competent officer, the reason that Srelal had brought her when they boarded the D'Tal, but her work had never reached the inspired level that it seemed to have achieved when she worked with the Federation personnel aboard the Enterprise.  In a way it was a pity that her only reward would be a traitor's execution!

"I will leave you now, Picard.  Under protest," she added.

"Understood, Commander," Picard acknowledged. "Please don't take this personally."

Srelal's only reply was a grim smile in Picard's direction, as she exited the room.

"Now, Centurion," Picard said, leaning forward expectantly.  "Tell me everything you know about Commander McFadden..."

****

"You know, Data... I think what we've got here is a dedicated interceptor!" Geordi exclaimed.

"That would certainly explain the weapons system which seems to be integral to this spacecraft's design," Data agreed.

During the break in the staff meeting, the two of them had taken the opportunity to have S'dar's files from the Excalibur downloaded into the Enterprise computer.  They were currently waiting for the computer to analyse S'dar's data, in the hope that LaForge's plan to hardwire the Guild vessel's on board computer to the universal translator, and then reload the translated file back into the scoutcraft's memory banks, was feasible.

As the Enterprise computer worked on this task, LaForge was examining the detailed schematics of the scoutcraft's control system, while Data experimentally entered program code from his terminal to see how the multi-layered processors of the Guild ship would respond to the simulated input.

"Look at this, Data," LaForge said, pointing to his monitor.  "If that's not a Target Acquisition Co-processor, I'll be a monkey's uncle!"

Data glanced at the display screen, and nodded sagely, before his puzzlement got the best of him. "Query... a monkey's uncle?  Although the higher primates of Earth share a great deal of common
genetic material, the DNA of your species and the one you refer to are quite incompatible.  Therefore, Geordi, it is biologically impossible for you to become a monkey's uncle."

LaForge sighed, more in resignation than exasperation at Data's incomprehension.  No matter how long he associated with humans, the android could not seem to grasp the concept of using a figure of speech to illustrate a point.  "Of course it's impossible, Data!  That's exactly why I said it!"

It took a few moments before Data's normally placid expression lit up with sudden understanding. "Ah!... So what you are saying is, because it is physically impossible for you to become a monkey's uncle, the probability that the schematic you assume to be a Target Acquisition Co-processor actually is that type of device, is extremely high."

"That's right, Data.  Full marks!"

"Thank you!  I shall attempt to incorporate this figure of speech into a conversation at some future date."

"I can hardly wait!" Laforge said, his face breaking into a broad grin.

The disembodied voice of the Enterprise computer interrupted their banter.  "Analysis complete... physical coupling of universal translator to Guild spacecraft is possible.  Interface through main optical processor at juction J17 is recommended."

"Computer... display schematic of necessary hardware to complete interface," LaForge ordered.

The computer obediently complied, displaying a diagram of the modifications required in order to convert a standard optical interface device to a format compatible with the Guild vessel's on board computer.

"Computer... download these modifications to the replicator station in Main Engineering, and execute replication cycle."

"Acknowledge... download of modifications complete. Replication confirmed."

There was a brief hum, accompanied by the rainbow sparkle of the replicator in operation, and the modified interface device appeared.  Geordi walked over and retrieved it from the replicator slot.

"All right, Data.  We should have complete access to the ship's control system within minutes of installing this interface!"

"Very good, Geordi.  I will inform Commander Riker."

The android tapped his combadge.  "Data to Riker!" 

"Riker here, go ahead, Data!"

"Commander, Geordi and I are ready to commence the translation of the Guild vessel's memory and control files."

"The staff briefing is about to reconvene, Mr. Data, and Captain Wilson is still in private conference with Captain Picard.  You will need her authorization."

"Very well, Commander.  I will contact Captain Wilson directly, as soon as she is available. Data out!"

"Acknowledged, Data.  Riker out!"

"He sounds worried," LaForge observed.  "I guess Troi is still unconscious."

"I have noticed that Commander Riker and Counselor Troi seem to share an uncommonly strong awareness of each other, Geordi."

"That's love, Data," LaForge replied wistfully.

Data cocked his head, as he often did when thinking about an especially perplexing set of variables. "If Counselor Troi and Commander Riker are in love, would not the proper course of action be to marry, and then share living space?" 

"I'm sure they've considered all the possibilities, Data," LaForge said, with little enthusiasm.  Hoping Data would take the hint, and drop the subject.

"I disagree.  I have given this subject a great deal of thought, and paid particularly close attention to the interaction between Commander Riker and Counselor Troi,"  Data responded, clearly fascinated by the topic under discussion.  "I have observed that neither of them seems especially happy with the current situation.  Perhaps it would be beneficial if an objective third party systematically detailed their options."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Data," LaForge warned.  "Remember what happened when you tried to play matchmaker between Keiko and Chief O'Brian?"

Data remembered the incident Geordi referred to in exquisite detail, and was forced to admit that, although the end result had been a happy one, the entire experience had left him terribly confused, and his faith in the human axiom that "love conquers all" somewhat shaken.  On reconsideration, it might be preferable to let Riker and Troi muddle through their problem without outside interference!

The android's expression turned rueful.  "I concede, you may have a point,"  Data acknowledged.

"Good!" LaForge said, relieved that his friend was not qoing to interfere in something which was clearly none of their business.  "Now that we've got that cleared up, let's get back to the conference room.  They should be just about ready to start."

"Actually, the fifteen minute recess has extended considerably longer than fifteen minutes.  The meeting should have re-commenced twenty-two minutes ago.  Curious," Data mused.  "Captain Picard is usually quite punctual!"

"He must have his reasons, Data."

The last person McFadden expected to see was the Romulan, Srelal.  Nonetheless, it was she who stood on the threshold of his quarters when he answered the door.

"May I Come in, Commander?" she asked politely.

"I didn't think Picard was allowing you free run of his ship, Commander!  Aren't you supposed to have an escort?"

Srelal smiled at the human's flippant tone. "It was necessary that we speak privately.  The escort that the Klingon assigned to me is temporarily indisposed."

"I see."

"I don't believe that you do, Mr. McFadden. Picard and the Vulcan are in the process of dissecting the memories of Centurion Saalesh, in an attempt to find out what the Betazoid learned about your mission."

"And what has that to do with you and I holding this conversation, Commander?"

"It occurs to me that, in this instance at least, the objectives of Starfleet Intelligence and the Romulan Imperial Fleet might coincide."

"Might, being the operative word, Commander! For all I know, you're here at Captain Picard's request!"

"I think you know how unlikely that premise is, Commander.  Picard and I are not allies.  I am here because we were illegally beamed off one of our own vessels.  I co-operate with Picard because it is convenient to do so."

"Am I to take it from that statement that it is no longer convenient?"

Srelal grimaced.  "You are very quick!  For a human," she added, covering the insult with a smile.

McFadden was not fooled by the Romulan's attempt at humour.  He had spent enough time on the border of the Neutral Zone to know that Romulan humour usually leaned toward the sadistic.  This bitch would gladly carve out his liver, and smile all the time she was doing it, he thought. "So tell me, Srelal, exactly what did you have in mind?"

"I intend to see the hostiles dead, McFadden!  I also intend to capture their vessel for the Empire, and for that, I need your help."

"You ask me to commit treason!"

"Would you rather be at war with the Romulan Imperial Fleet?"

McFadden laughed.  "It is my understanding, that there is not a great deal of the Imperial Fleet left, Commander!"

"And it is my understanding, Commander," Srelal growled back.  "That the Borg made a considerable dent in Starfleet's offensive striking power as well! .  I believe that you lost nearly forty starshups at Wolf 359!"

McFadden was thankful he had missed that particular battle.  It still stung that the Intelligence Directorate was partially blamed for not recognizing the threat that the Borg posed to the Federation.  Intelligence would not be blamed for underestimating the threat this time, he vowed.  If he had to make a deal with one enemy in order to stop another, it was within his mandate to do so!

"Go ahead, Srelal.  I'm listening..."

***

Chapter Ten

The staff briefing reconvened twenty-seven minutes behind schedule.  Riker and Dr. Crusher were the last of the Enterprise senior officers to arrive.

"Is there any change in Counselor Troi's condition, Doctor?" Picard asked.

"No, Captain.  She's still unconscious," Crusher replied, obviously worried.

"Were you aware of the Counselor's ability to actively probe another person's mind, Beverly?"

Crusher was stunned.  "No, Sir!  I would say that was impossible!  Troi is only half Betazoid, and even full-telepaths rarely exhibit that kind of ability!"

"Indeed," Picard agreed.  "Nonetheless, it seems our Counselor did exactly that.  Apparently, she has been somewhat circumspect in revealing her true capabilities," he concluded.

Crusher thought rapidly, digesting the information the Captain had just provided.  If Troi did have the ability to probe, it had to be something she did very rarely.  In fact, Crusher suspected that she had probably never done it, before today! "May I ask how you came by this information, Captain?" Crusher asked.

Picard would have liked to be completely forthright with his Chief Medical Officer, but under the circumstances, that was impossible.  "No, Doctor.  You may not!"

Crusher seemed prepared to argue the point, and Picard did not doubt for an instant that her argument would be a compelling one, but he forestalled it with a sharp rebuff.  "Captain's prerogative, Doctor!"

The doctor bit back the retort that sprang to her lips.  If Jean-Luc was keeping things to himself, that was the Captain's privilege.  She didn't have to like it!  "Understood, Sir!" 

Her sarcastic tone was not lost on Captain Picard, or anyone else in the room.  He regretted the necessity of keeping her and the rest of the crew in the dark, but he also knew that they were all professionals, and could understand the constraints that he was sometimes forced to operate under.  They didn't always like it, that much was obvious, but they did understand.

It was then that Picard noticed the absence of Commander McFadden.  Strange, he thought.  "Computer... locate Commander McFadden?"

"Commander McFadden is not on board the Enterprise," came the immediate reply.

"Where the hell is he?" Commander Riker wondered aloud.

"An excellent question, Number One!"  Picard looked in the direction of the Enterprise Security Chief.  "Lieutenant Worf?"

The Klingon officer's face broke into a scowl. "Worf to security team Alpha!  Report!" His attempt at communication was met with dead silence on the comm channel.  Worf's scowl turned into a look of surprise.  "Captain, we may have a problem'"

"Indeed!"

Worf switched from intra-ship to the Task Force's security communications network.  "Lieutenant Worf to all security stations, Code Sierra One!  Repeat, Code Sierra One, level four security alert, the target is Commander McFadden. Detain Commander McFadden for interrogation!"

"Transporter Room One to Lieutenant Worf!"

"Worf here, go ahead!"

"Lieutenant, Commander McFadden transported over to Excalibur ten minutes ago."

"Why wasn't I informed, immediately!" Worf snarled.

"Commander McFadden had an encoded security chip, Sir!  It automatically gave him clearance to bypass the security lock-out on the transporters!"

Worf knew that it was pointless to take out his anger on the hapless Transporter Chief.  He himself should have foreseen that the Intelligence Officer might have the clearance to override normal ship's security protocols.  It was a mistake he would not make twice!

"Worf to Lieutenant Ursal!" 

"Ursal here!"

"Lieutenant, Commander McFadden has transported to Excalibur without proper authorization.  He has the ability to bypass normal security procedures. Excercise extreme caution, but find him!"

"Understood, Sir!  Ursal out!"

"Mr. Worf," Picard said, catching the Klingon's attention.  "Go see what happened to your security team."

"Aye, Captain." Worf replied, and hurried from the room to comply with the Captain's order, his rage telegraphed by the way he carried himself.

"What the hell is McFadden up to now?" Riker asked of the room in general.

"He is attempting to complete his mission, Number One," Picard replied from his place at the head of the conference table.

"Which is?"

Picard looked around the conference table, holding the gaze of each officer present for just a moment, before forming his reply.  "Commander McFadden has been ordered to capture any remaining personnel of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild, destroy their vessel or vessels, and turn over the ship's Captain to the Romulan High Command for trial and execution!"

"But that's against Federation Law!" Dr. Crusher protested.  "A person can't be extradited to the Romulan Empire without a hearing!"

"Surely we aren't going to stand by and let this happen, Captain?" LaForge interjected.

"No, Mr. LaForge, we are not!" Picard assured them.

"May I ask where these orders originated, Captain?" Data asked.

"With Admiral Clark Turner, Chief of Operations, Starfleet Command."

"Are you going to disobey the orders of your superiors, Picard?" Commander Srelal asked.  "It seems as if acts of treason are endemic to this vessel," she continued, directing a bitter smile toward Centurion Saalesh.

Captain DeSoto replied on behalf of Picard.  "A starship Captain is not obligated to follow an illegal order, Commander.  It is not considered treasonable to disobey such an order, exactly the opposite in fact.  If we were to carry out such an order, we would be committing an indictable offence under Article One, of Starfleet's Uniform Code of Justice."

"How entirely typical of your species, Captain. It amazes me that humans got into space at all with such an attitude.  Is every order you receive subjected to legal srutiny before it can be carried out?" Srelal asked sarcastically.  "Or do the senior Captain's of Federation ships simply make up new orders to replace the ones they don't like?"

"That will be quite enough, Commander!" Picard bellowed, finally losing his patience with the Romulan. "It is not necessary for us to justify our actions within Federation territory to an officer of the Romulan Imperial Fleet!"

Srelal was not prepared to be lectured to by a man who, by his own admission, was about to disobey the orders of the Chief of Starf leet Operations, one of the highest ranking officers in the Federation. "Spare me your outraged sensibilities, Picard!" she screamed back at him with equal vehemence.  "Turning over the leader of these criminals to the Empire is the least that you can do by way of reparation!"

"You may be interested to know, Commander," Picard responded, in a much calmer tone of voice.  "That my original orders were to seize  the two derelicts in the Neutral Zone, and tow them back to the nearest Federation starbase for dissection!  I chose to excercise a liberal interpretation of those orders as well. Something I'm sure the Romulan Empire would appreciate!"

"To do otherwise would have meant war!  Whoever issued those orders must have been an idiot to think we wouldn't respond to such a provocation!"

Picard smiled.  "I agree with you wholeheartedly, Commander.  Those orders were issued by the very same Admiral Clark Turner!"

Srelal was forced to wonder how rational this Admiral Turner could be.  If he was prepared to provoke an incident such as Picard described, there was no telling what the man could be capable of!  For the briefest instant, Srelal felt a twinge of genuine fear.  Was the Federation preparing to go to war with the Empire? Did McFadden really know what Admiral Turner had in mind, or were his assumptions about the reasons for his assignment false?  Are any of these damn humans trustworthy?

Srelal made an instant re-evaluation of her options, and decided that McFadden was on his own.  Picard's disclosure changed the dynamics of the situation considerably.  McFadden had told her that Turner's overall strategy was to open a dialogue with the Romulan Empire, using the captured Guild personnel as a bargaining tool.  If successful, and Srelal did not see any reason why it shouldn't be, the plan would gain Turner the political support he needed to open talks with the Empire on a wide range of issues, after he became President of the Federation Council!

Srelal could now envision a quite different scenario. Admiral Turner would use the Guild incident as an excuse to go to war with the Empire, and if the Federation emerged victorious, use that as the impetus to launch him into the Presidency of the Federation Council!  The personal ambition of a single individual was becoming the fulcrum on which the fate of two political entity's balanced, and no matter the outcome, that was something which was totally unacceptable!

Treason, she mused.  It is a fine line we all tread.  After having accused the Centurion of treason, she found herself contemplating actions which could lead to her own execution on the same charges! How ironic, she thought, my only consideration is the good of the Empire, and yet...
"McFadden is going to try to steal the Guild scout-craft on board the Excalibur, Picard.  I suggest you move it to the Enterprise if you wish to thwart his plan."

Picard ignored the obvious implications of Srelal's statement, that she and McFadden had been in collusion, and that now she was abandoning him to his own devices. Instead, he concentrated on the reasons behind McFadden's move.  "What does he hope to accomplish by stealing the scoutcraft, Commander?"

"It's not like he can go anywhere that we can't catch him," LaForge said, perplexed.  "The Guild
ship is only equipped for sublight, there's no way he could outrun us!"

"He doesn't intend to outrun you, Commander," Srelal replied.

"He's using himself as bait!" Captain Wilson exclaimed.  "The bastard's hoping we'll go after him!  If the Gaia is monitoring us, she'll see a Federation starship chasing one of her own scoutcraft, and open fire!"

"Putting the Federation and the Romulan Empire irrevocably on the same side," Picard finished.  "Very clever!"

"I must get back to my ship, Captain Picard," Wilson said anxiously.

"I agree, go Captain!"

Wilson was on her feet and out the door, opening a communications channel to Excalibur, and issuing instructions, as she went.

"Just what the hell were you and McFadden planning, Srelal?" Riker demanded.

"I was planning on preventing a war between the Romulan Empire and the Federation, Riker!  Do you honestly expect me to sit here and do nothing while you save the lives of these murderers!  McFadden offered the only reasonable solution.  The life of the Gaia's Captain would satisfy the High-Command's call for vengence, and having the Guild ship open fire on the Enterprise would guarantee that the Gaia would be treated as a hostile by the Federation!"

"What made you change your mind, Commander?" Picard asked.

"I came to the conclusion that McFadden was not operating with all the pertinent facts at his disposal, or that, having the facts, he chose to ignore them."

It might have worked, Picard thought.  If Troi hadn't given me the insight into Admiral Turner's potential mental instability, and if I hadn't had Data to research the Admiralty files illegally, we might have taken Commander McFadden at his word, and treated the Guild as a hostile force.  Turner was counting on the Guild ship helping to fight the Romulans while at the same time provoking a war between the Federation and the Romulan Empire by having us seize the two cruisers in the Neutral Zone.  But why?  What could he hope to gain?

"Commander Srelal," Picard said.  "Did McFadden offer you any explanation regarding Admiral Turner's motives?"

"Turner wishes to become President of the Federation Council."

Suddenly, everything fell into place.  According to DeSoto, Turner was well connected politically, he wouldn't be the first person to try to turn a military triumph into a bid for political power!
The only problem was, Picard thought bitterly, Starfleet was at it's weakest level in forty years.  One third of the Fleet had been destroyed in the battle with the Borg at Wolf 359.  On the other hand, the Romulan Imperial Fleet had lost only a quarter of it's warships to the Guild.  What in the world made Turner believe that the Federation would emerge victorious from such a confrontation?  It was strategic suicide!
 
"Captain DeSoto, have your security staff conduct a strategic analysis of the disposition of all Federation starships along the Neutral Zone," Picard ordered.  "Limit your analysis to combat capable vessels only!"

DeSoto nodded an acknowledgement to Picard's instructions.

"What are your intentions, Picard?" Srelal asked, genuinely intrigued with where this was all going to lead.

"Once Captain DeSoto has completed his analysis, Commander, and if, as I suspect, Admiral Turner is massing the fleet.  We will transmit the deployment data to the Romulan High Command!  This will preclude the launch of a surprise attack from Federation territory against the Empire!"

"You can't be serious, Jean-Luc!" DeSoto objected. "With that kind of information the Romulans could launch their own attack!"

Picard regarded his friend seriously.  "What do you suggest, Robert? That we allow Admiral Turner to start an inter~sellar; war with the Romulan 'Empire?"

DeSoto looked skeptical.  "All we have is the word of a Romulan officer, Jean-Luc.  Are you willing to throw away all of our careers on such a flimsy piece of evidence!"      

It's time for the lines to be drawn, Picard thought sadly, fully prepared to put his oldest friendship, as well as his career at risk, for what he perceived to be a higher principle.  "If your analysis points toward a massing of the fleet, in preparation for the conduct of offensive combat operations against the Romulan Empire... yes, old friend, our careers will be a small price to pay!"

"What of these Guildsmen, Picard? Srelal asked.  "Do you still intend to defend them?"

Spock was right, Picard thought.  A unique opportunity has presented itself.  This incident can still be used to open a genuine dialogue with the government of the Romulan Empire.  "Commander, I am offering to mediate this dispute between the Guild and the Empire, and offer the Enterprise as neutral territory where face to face negotiations can take place."

The offer was genuine, of that Srelal had no doubt, but she was in no position to agree to such a proposal.  Srelal had already exceeded her mission parameters, and did not have the authority to negotiate on behalf of the Empire.  But she was willing to explore the possibility of a peaceful resolution to the Empire's conflict with the Inter-Planetary Guild.  She thought carefully before replying to Picard's overture.  "I will need access to a sub-space communications terminal, Picard," she said. "And the freedom to use it privately."

For the first time in many hours, Picard felt hopeful that a peaceful resolution of this incident might be achieved.  "Use the Security Station on deck nine.  It has direct access to the sub-space communications array."  Picard then opened the intraship comm channel.  "Picard to Lieutenant Worf!"

"Worf here!"

"Lieutenant, Commander Srelal requires the use of the sub-space communications terminal at the Security Station on deck nine.  Please isolate that station from ship's security protocols, and allow
the Commander unrestricted access!"

There was a noticeable pause before the Klingon Security Chief replied.  "Aye, Captain.  Understood."

Picard appreciated Worf's concerns, and indeed shared some of them himself, but at some point in a situation such as the one they found themselves in presently, someone had to make the first move toward negotiating in good faith.  Picard had decided to make that move himself, partly because he knew that Srelal would not like what he was about to say next.  "Lieutenant, how close to the Federation boundary are the two derelicts?"

"They have drifted to within one hundred kilometers of Federation space, Captain," Worf replied.

"Understood, Mr. Worf.  Picard out!"  Picard and DeSoto shared a meaningful glance.   Commander Srelal," Picard began.  "We cannot allow those two cruisers to cross the Federation boundary of the Neutral Zone."

The Romulan officer was silent, apparently waiting for Picard to make his point before venturing a reply.

"I realize that your superiors may wish to salvage as much equipment as possible from the two derelicts, Commander Srelal.  However," Picard continued. I have a fundamental responsibility to protect the Federation's interests, and those interests will not be served by allowing two damaged Romulan cruisers to drift into Federation space."

"Get to the point, Picard!"

"The point, Commander, is this.  We are going to destroy the derelicts before they cross into Federation space, and pose a threat to navigation in this sector."

"I see," the Romulan stated noncommittally.

"Before we take this action," Captain Desoto explained.  "We will broadcast our intentions via sub-space on frequencies we know to be monitored by the Romulan Imperial Fleet."

Srelal nodded, acknowledging DeSoto's comment. "And if our warbirds should attempt to prevent this action, Captain DeSoto?  What then?"

DeSoto didn't bother to phrase his reply in diplomatic terms.  "Then Commander, your warbirds will be taken under fire, and destroyed!"

Srelal recognized the tactic for what it was, an attempt by Picard, and DeSoto, to meet minimum mission requirements.  Having been aboard one of the cruisers, she knew that there was very little in the way of salvageable equipment on either spacecraft. They were certainly not worth going to war over!

"I accept your justification for destroying the D'Tal, and the D'Tam, Captain Picard.  I will recommend that the Captain of the Ko'Leur not interfere with this action."

****

"Situation report, Mr. Davis!" Wilson demanded, as she stepped off the transporter pad on board Excalibur.

"Security has cordoned off the hanger deck, and commenced a deck by deck search for Commander McFadden. So far, no luck'"

"Luck has nothing to do with it, Commander!" Wilson fumed.  "Advise Lieutenant Ursal, that if McFadden is not found within the next fifteen minutes, he will be relieved of duty!"

"Aye, Sir!"

"Wilson to Picard!"

"Picard here.  Go ahead, Captain."

"We have commenced a deck by deck search for Commander McFadden.  He is not on the hanger deck. I suggest Mr. Data, and Mr. LaForge, transport over as soon as possible to remove the Guild vessel."

"Agreed, Captain Wilson.  They are on their way." 

"Acknowledged.  Wilson out!"

 "Picard out!"

"Mr. Davis, when the two officers from the Enterprise beam over, escort them to the hanger deck.  I'll be on the bridge!"

"Aye, Sir!

Son of a bitch! Wilson thought, as she strode out of the transporter room on her way to the turbo-lift.  I knew that man was trouble the minute I laid eyes on him!  When Admiral Turner had assigned the Intelligence Officer to her staff, he told her that he was to act in an advisory capacity.  Once they were out of Starbase and on their way to the operations area, McFadden made it perfectly clear to her that he was in charge of the mission, and if she had any complaints she should take them up with the Chief of Operations.  Questioning the orders of a senior
Admiral was not something a person who had only three months in the Captain's chair could easily bring themselves to do, and McFadden knew it.  In fact, Wilson thought bitterly, he counted on her insecurity to further his, and the Admiral's, personal crusade against the Romulan Empire.  She recognized that now, and it stung her pride to realize that she was so easily manipulated.

"Damn them both to hell!"

"Unrecognized command," the computer in the turbo-lift purred, without the least trace of
sympathy for her bruised ego.

"Bridge!"

The computer complied with the order without further comment, and the lift began to move.  Wilson began a short series of deep-breathing exercises, to get her anger under control.  By the time the lift stopped, and the doors opened onto the Excalibur's bridge, she was feeling much calmer, and was beginning to regret her harsh assessment of Lieutenant Ursal's capabilities.  McFadden was a slimy son of a bitch, but he was also a high ranking intelligence operative, trained to bypass normal security precautions, and no doubt equipped with the latest Federation technology.  She decided that, whatever happened, Ursal did not deserve to be relieved.  Another snap judgement made in haste, and proved in retrospect to be stupid, she thought.  Am I ever going to get the hang of this?  It seems every time I open my mouth, I put my foot in it!

As Wilson sat down in her chair, her thoughts turned to Jean-Luc Picard.  There was a man with command presence, if ever she saw one!  She also knew that Picard had over twenty-five years in the Captain's chair.  He had commanded a starship since almost before she was born!  I wonder what it was like for him?  Did he suffer from the same uncertainties that I do, on his first command tour?  Maybe I should ask him!

"Davis to Captain Wilson!"

Wilson opened the comm channel.  "Wilson here," she acknowledged.  "Go ahead, Commander."

"Lieutenant Commander's Data, and LaForge, have beamed over from the Enterprise, Captain.  They request permission to board the Guild spacecraft."

"Permission granted!  Render them any assistance that they require."  She hesitated before continuing. "Any luck in the search for Commander McFadden?"

"No, Sir!  The search is continuing on decks ten through twenty-two."

"Very well, Commander.  Carry on." 

"Aye, Sir.  Davis out!"

Wilson toggled the channel closed and leaned back in her chair.  Definitely a slimy son of a bitch! she thought.  Where the hell could he be hiding?

****

"Well, that's it, Data.  The interface is installed. Now all we have to do is wait for the computer to process the translation."

"I have been considering the advisability of including a third officer on our test flight, Geordi.
What is your assessment?" 

"That's a good thought, Data.  According to S'dar's analysis, the ship uses separate subsystems for navigation, and systems monitoring.  Considering it's our first attempt to fly it, it certainly couldn't hurt to have a third man along."

"Actually, I was thinking more in terms of having a woman along.  Centurion Saalesh is completely familiar with this vessels computer architecture.  She seems to be an ideal choice as Systems Officer," Data concluded.

"Do you think that's a good idea, Data?  LaForge asked, obviously not convinced.  "After all, she is a Romulan."

The android officer seemed genuinely puzzled by LaForge's reluctance to have Saalesh included. "Are you saying, that because Saalesh is a Romulan, she should automatically be excluded from consideration?"

"No... well, not exactly," LaForge replied hesitantly. "It's just that not everyone is as comfortable with the Centurion as you seem to be, Data."

"Ahh... other than Captain Wilson, I had not been aware that people felt the Centurion was a security risk.  Captain Picard does not seem to consider her being a Romulan a problem when handing out assignments."

LaForge didn't think he was communicating his misgivings about the Romulan officer very well. Data didn't understand that humans found it very hard to "forgive and forget", and it was impossible for Data to appreciate the psychological scars left after the Romulans had kidnapped LaForge, and programmed him  to become an assassin.  It had taken the Engineer many months of counseling to put that experience behind him, and although Saalesh was in no way overtly threatening, he wasn't prepared to put his life in her hands.  At least, not yet!

"Maybe the Captain knows something I don't, Data," LaForge admitted.  "Look, I'm not arguing the point she might be the best person for the job, but not all of us can be as dispassionate in our judgements of people as you are!"

"Yes," Data agreed.  "I have noticed that humans seem to have a predilection for judging individuals based on their preconceptions, rather than on the character of the individuals themselves."

Geordi was shocked!  When put that way it sounded as if Data was accusing him, albeit indirectly, of racism!  He wasn't about to admit, even to himself, that he harboured such thoughts.  It went against everything that he believed in.  "Point taken, Data. You're right, the Centurion hasn't done anything to deserve being disqualified from serving as Systems Officer on the Guild ship."

"We are in agreement then?" Data asked.

"Yes, Data," LaForge replied.  "We are in agreement!"

The two officers stepped out of the Guild spacecraft, and Data opened a comm channel to the Enterprise. "Data to Picard!"

"Picard here, go ahead, Mr. Data."

"Captain," Data began.  "Geordi and I have agreed that it would be advisable to have a third officer on board the Guild vessel when we make our test flight.  We would like Centurion Saalesh to serve in that position."

"Any particular reason, Data?" Picard asked.

"The Centurion is completely familiar with the Guild's computer architecture, Captain," the android replied.  "Her input, should we run into difficulty, could prove invaluable."

"Very well, Mr. Data.  I will have her beam over immediately.  When do you expect to make the test flight?1'

"As soon as the Excalibur's computer has made the translated Guild files available, we will    reload the spacecraft's computer with the decoded files. I estimate approximately fifteen minutes, Captain."

"Excellent, carry on then, Commander.  Picard out!"

A few moments later, the shimmer of the transporter effect coalesced into the form of the Romulan officer.

"Centurion," Data said, acknowledging her presence with a brief nod.

"Commander Data, Commander LaForge," Saalesh replied.  "Captain Picard instructed me to assist you in any way I can.  I await your orders."

"Due to your familiarity with the Guild vessel's computer architecture, we would like you to act as Systems Officer when we make our test flight, Centurion," Data said.  "Commander LaForge and I have agreed that you are the person best suited for this task," he concluded.

"Your confidence in my abilities honours me, Commander."

Geordi was beginning to see why Data had developed a rapport with the young Romulan.  She didn't exhibit any of the characteristics LaForge had come to associate with the Romulans.  Arrogance, cruelty, the need to maintain absolute control over any situation, all these things were strangely absent, or at least seemed to be absent, from the Centurion's character. There was a kind of gentleness in the way she spoke that he found quite attractive.  I wonder if she's pretty, he thought wistfully.  Wishing for an instant that he could see her the way everyone else did, instead of through the electro-magnetic imaging that his VISOR sent directly to the part of his brain that processed visual stimuli.

"May I call you by your given name, Centurion?" LaForge asked.

"If you wish, Commander LaForge. I would not object."

"It's Geordi."

"Pardon me, Commander? Saalesh asked hesitantly.

"My name.  It's Geordi.  There's no need to keep calling me Commander LaForge."

Her eyes widened in surprise.  The thought of addressing a superior officer by anything other than his rank would never have crossed Saalesh's mind.  How strange these humans are! she thought. "Very well  Comm... I mean... Geordi."

Calling him by his first name did not come easily to her, LaForge thought.  Was their society so structured that it was beyond their comprehension that an officer of a higher rank might also wish to be her friend? We know so little about them, and yet our people have been enemies for almost two hundred years!

"Translation protocol complete.  Awaiting final instructions..." the computer intoned, interrupting LaForge's train of thought.

"Acknowledge computer," LaForge stated.  "Commence download of translated files to Guild spacecraft, through optical interface," he ordered.

"...working..."

"Almost there, Data.  Let's get aboard and see what we've got!"

****

She was dreaming. A kaleidoscope of images, sight, sounds, smells whirled through her mind. A man's face, retained for an instant, and then gone in a flash of brilliant white. Snatches of conversation. "No!  No!  You can't let him do it Jean-Luc!"

"There's nothing I can do, Counselor!  It's beyond our control!"

"Imzadi!  Imzadi, don't leave me!"

Then darkness, peaceful in it's way, but cold and empty. Lonely... so desperately lonely...

"I'm here, Deanna, I'm right here!  It's going to be all right.  Doctor Crusher!  She's coming around!"

"Get out of the way, Will!" Crusher ordered, and then none-to-gently shoved Riker aside.  A quick glance at the bio-bed monitors told the doctor all she needed to know.  The nagging feeling that she has missed something in her diagnosis faded, replaced by relief that Troi had finally reached a normal sleep state, instead of the semi-comatose, trance like condition she had been in for the better part of two hours.  "She was dreaming, Will.  Nothing to be concerned about,'' she said gently.  ''You're not doing her any good by hovering around here, Commander.  Don't they need you on the bridge?" she suggested hopefully.

Riker book a deep breath before replying, and let it out slowly, bringing himself under control. "I can take a hint, Doctor," he said, able to smile for the first time since Deanna lapsed into unconsciousness.

"Good!" Crusher replied.  "Now shoo!  As soon as she wakes up, I'll call you!"

Intellectually, Riker could appreciate the Doctor wanting him out of sick-bay.   He was in the way, more a hindrance than a help, but he had this weird feeling that if he left her alone, Deanna would know, and think he let her down in some way.  It was stupid, he admitted to himself   In all likelyhood, she didn't even know he was in the room, but he couldn't shake the conviction that they were psychically linked on some deep sub-conscious level, and that if he left she would be aware of his departure.

Crusher saw the indecision written on Riker's face, and sympathized, but he really wasn't doing Troi any good and, she thought, he might actually be retarding her recovery by his constant presence. The doctor was quite cognizant of the fact that Will Riker was in love with Deanna, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself, and the two women had, on occasion, discussed the state of their on again, off again, affair.  Crusher suspected that there was more to Betazoid romantic entanglements than Troi had let on, but she had never quite got up the nerve to ask Deanna directly whether or not she and Will were telepathically linked linked in some way.

The problem, as Dr. Crusher saw it, was that Deanna had told her about dreaming of a man.  The glaring implication being, that man was not Will Riker!  Therefore, Will's presence might reinforce any feelings of guilt Deanna harboured over this dream, and inhibit her natural inclination to wake up!  Crusher would be the first one to admit that psychology was outside her normal field of expertise, but the theory made perfect sense to her, and she was convinced that Riker's departure would hasten Troi's recovery.

Crusher was getting ready to issue her invitation to leave sickbay in somewhat stronger language, when Riker held up his hands in mock surrender.

"All right, Doctor!  I get the message!  I'm going."  He took one last look at Troi.  She seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

"Go, Will!" Crusher said, rather more sharply than she had intended.

Riker nodded once, in acknowledgement of Crusher's thinly veiled order, and stoically turned and walked out of sickbay.

As she watched the sickbay doors close behind him, Crusher heaved a sigh of relief.  If she hurt his feelings by ordering him to leave, she was sorry, but the welfare of her patient was her primary concern. The doctor returned to Troi's bedside, again checking the bio-bed monitors to make sure that the Counselor was in a normal sleep state, and had not slipped back into trance.  Satisfied that all was as well as she could expect, she left Deanna alone and walked into the ward, adjacent to the recovery room.

Crusher's staff was busy dealing with the normal medical problems associated with extended alert status, fatigue, dehydration, etc.  No matter how highly trained, starfleet personnel tended to act exactly like any other people did when subjected to long periods of stress.  They forgot little things like eating, drinking, and sleeping!  Even Lieutenant Worf, who generally speaking had the constituition of a Tiberian Ox, had been known to get woozy from having a critically low blood-sugar level.

Seeing that everything was under control, Crusher wandered into her office.  She was at loose ends, not needed in the ward, and unable to do anything for Troi except let nature take it's course.  She briefly considered returning to her quarters.  Like the rest of the medical staff, she hadn't slept in nearly twenty hours, and she knew it was starting to catch up to her.  We're all suffering from exhaustion, she thought, including me.

One more review, and I'll call it a day.  "Computer... review data base on Betazoid neurological chemistry. Extrapolate theoretical consequences of pro-active telepathic probe on normal Betazoid brain chemistry."

"Working..."

***

Chapter Eleven

His First Officer did not appear to be in the best of moods, Picard noted, as Riker silently exited the turbo-lift and took the seat to his Captain's right.  Picard wasn't entirely comfortable with the special relationship he knew to exist between Counselor Troi, and Commander Riker, but it had never caused any overt friction among his senior staff, so he had refrained from mentioning the matter  to either of them.  The private  lives of the crew were none of his business, which was exactly how it should be.  And Picard's style of command tended to inhibit the exchange of information, on subjects of a personal nature, between Captain and First Officer.  Nevertheless, it was obvious to Picard that Deanna Troi was very much on Riker's mind and, because the man was a friend as well as a subordinate, he felt an obligation to help if he could.  Even if it was only in the capacity of lending a sympathetic ear.

"How is Counselor Troi, Number One?" Picard asked, broaching the subject he knew to be foremost in Riker's thoughts.

Riker sighed.  "According to Doctor Crusher, she's sleeping peacefully."

Picard let the silence hang between them for a moment, before continuing.  "You don't sound very convinced, Will."

"Frankly Captain, I'm not convinced," Riker said, responding to the implied question.  "That bastard McFadden did something to her!  I'm sure of it!"

"There is no evidence to suggest that Counselor Troi has been permanently damaged by her encounter with McFadden," Picard pointed out.  "It is quite possible that Deanna is suffering from simple ehaustion, admittedly, exacerbated by the telepathic exchange with our resident spy."

"I hope you're right, Captain," Riker replied, his voiced tinged with bitterness.  "I don't know what I'll do if Deanna doesn't recover."

There is an implied threat there, Picard thought with alarm.  This has gone quite far enough!  "You will do whatever is required of you, Commander," Picard said sternly.  "As dictated by Federation law, and your duty as a Starfleet officer."

"Understood, Captain."

"I hope you do, Will," Picard replied, and then in a softer tone.  "Deanna would expect nothing less of you."

"You're right of course.  Revenge is something totally foreign to her nature," Riker admitted. "It's just so damn frustrating!  Not being able to help her."

"I understand your motivation, Will, but there are some things best left to the proper authorities. Both McFadden and Admiral Turner will have much to answer for when all this is over."

Riker could tell that his Captain was as angry as himself over the fact that the two men had used all of them as pawns in an effort to further their own personal ambitions.  Riker knew from personal experience that an angry Jean-Luc Picard was a formidable presence to behold, and in a way he pitied the two men who had been stupid enough to make this man an adversary.

"I gather it was S'dar who picked up on the exchange between Deanna, and McFadden?" Riker asked.

"Actually, it was Centurion Saalesh who made the connection.  S'dar helped her to remember the incident through a mind-meld."

"Saalesh!  I didn't realize that she was a telepath."

"Most Vulcanoid species are telepathic to some degree, Number One.  However, from what S'dar has told me, Saalesh is an extremely capable telepath, but totally untrained."  Picard paused, going over in his mind the rather cryptic conversation he had with the Vulcan officer. In an attempt to learn more about the Romulan officer's background, Picard had asked S'dar if there were anything else about Saalesh that he should know.  The only comment that the Vulcan would make concerned Saalesh's "unfortunate childhood".  

"Apparently, Saalesh lost her mother when she was very young, and was raised by a friend of the family on one of the outer worlds of the Empire.  It's strange," Picard mused.  "I got the distinct impression that S'dar was extremely impressed by her familial connections. Rather odd, considering the state of relations between Vulcan and the Romulan Empire, don't you think, Number One?"

"That is strange," Riker conceded.  "I'm not sure how S'dar could know anything more than we do about Romulan clan relationships."

"Unless..."  Picard hadn't meant to verbalize the thought that came to him, but he couldn't shake the persistent feeling that Saalesh was familiar, and S'dar had given him a possible clue.  He hadn't met very many Romulans in his life, certainly none that would remind him of the Centurion, but he had worked with Vulcans throughout his entire career. "Unless the impressive familial connections were not Romulan at all, but Vulcan!" Picard concluded, finally coming to a possible answer  for his seemingly impossible impression that he had met Saalesh somewhere before.

Riker was skeptical.  "How could a Vulcan child be raised by Romulans, and still retain any knowledge of her Vulcan family?  It doesn't make sense."

"Perhaps not for a human, Will.  But Vulcan memory sometimes extends to the period before they were born.  It is quite possible that a Vulcan, separated from her parents shortly after birth, would still remember who they were."

"Then the question that begs asking is; who are Saalesh's parents?"

"An excellent question, Number One!  Unfortunately, Vulcan rights of privacy are jealously guarded, so we have no choice but to wait until Saalesh herself decides to tell us something about her parentage."

"She may never tell us, Captain," Riker observed.

"Quite so, but I will respect her wishes in that regard."

"Understood, Sir."

Their conversation was interrupted by Dr. Crusher. "Crusher to Picard!"

"Picard here, go ahead, Doctor."

"Deanna's awake, Captain.  She's asking to see you."

"We're on our way, Beverly.  Picard out!"

"Uh... Captain?" Crusher said, keeping the comm channel open.

"Yes, Doctor.  Is there a problem?" Picard asked.

"She specifically asked to see you alone," Crusher replied hesitantly.

Picard's brows shot up in surprise.  It was quite obvious to him that Crusher was hinting that Counselor Troi did not want to see Commander Riker. From the look on his First Officer's face, it was obvious to Riker as well!  "Understood, Doctor!"

"You have the bridge, Number One!"

"Aye, Captain," Riker replied nonchalantly, doing his best to hide his obvious disappointment that he would not be the first to see her.

****

The security station on deck nine was equipped with a full sub-space communications suite, and Lieutenant Worf had allowed her the privacy she required to use it undisturbed, but Srelal still harboured some reservations about using the Federation terminal to contact her ship.  If this were a Romulan vessel, she knew that the terminal would be monitored from the bridge, and she suspected the same might be true here.

Worf was standing unobtrusively at the end of the hallway, obeying his Captain's orders to the letter, while keeping Srelal under visual surveillance, and this amused the Romulan.  She was beginning to develop a grudging admiration for the Klingon Security Officer.  That amused her as well.  The thought of actually respecting a Klingon, member of a race that she had been taught to despise all her life, was extraordinary!  Srelal glanced in Worf's direction as she input the first line of her personal security code, and was rewarded with a characteristic Klingon scowl.  The only indication that he acknowledged her existence at all.

The composition of Srelal's communication to the warbird Ko'Leur, for re-transmission to the Romulan High Command, was difficult.  It had to be phrased in such a way that the Ko'Leur's Captain could not misconstrue the message, and decide not to send it.  The Ko'Leur's Captain was quite capable of doing something that stupid, she thought in exasperation.

The security code was transmitted, and the reply acknowledging the transmission was immediate. Although she was expecting it, the prompt response caught her by surprise.  The idiot aboard the warbird did not even bother to request a verification code!

Srelal sent the verification without being asked, deciding that perhaps they were testing her.  She had no intention of allowing the Ko'Leur's Captain any possible excuse for ignoring her transmission, the stakes were far too high, and the cost of failure too great!

The verification code was also accepted, and a single word was transmitted in response.

"Report!"

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, wondering if she were doing the right thing.  If I am to be branded a traitor, better it be for trying to prevent the destruction of the Empire, rather than meekly acquiescing to a policy which I know will lead to disaster, she thought.  Srelal began to speak softly in her native tongue, determined to do what she perceived to be her duty to the Empire, regardless of the possible consequences to her own life.

****

"I'm glad to see you've decided to rejoin us, Counselor."

Troi smiled, indulging Picard's feeble attempt to bring a hint of humour to her situation.  She was sitting up on the edge of the bio-bed, while Dr. Crusher ran a med-scanner over her, and her expression suddenly turned grim.  "Captain, you must detain Commander McFadden immediately.  He poses a grave danger to the ship, and to the whole of the Federation!"

"We are aware of McFadden's mission, Counselor," Picard replied, and then turned to Dr. Crusher.
"How is she, Doctor?"

Crusher frowned.  "She seems to be perfectly normal, Captain.  Her brain-chemistry has stabilized, although the concentrations of certain neuro-transmitters are a bit high, I've learned that is to be expected in these cases."

"Oh?"

Crusher walked over to the wall monitor to illustrate her point.  "Apparently," she began.  "When a Betazoid attempts a mind-probe, the endocrine system releases these two complex compounds.  According to the computer projections, one of the chemicals is designed to counteract the effects of the other."  Crusher changed the display to overlay the computer projection of what should happen to a typical Betazoid, with what actually did happen to Troi.  "Unfortunately, Deanna is half human," she continued, giving Troi one of her 'what a stupid thing to do' looks.

"And the second chemical, which acts as a carrier for a metabolizing enzyme, is not present in her bloodstream, which is why she lapsed into unconsciousness!"

"I see."

"I am sorry, Captain," Troi said.  "But I felt it was imperative to find out what McFadden was planning.  The mind-probe seemed to be the only way."  Her expression turned sheepish.  "I admit, it wasn't one of my better efforts."

"Obviously!" Picard agreed.  "Tell me something, Counselor.  Why didn't you ever tell any of us that you possessed this ability?"

"Frankly, Captain, because it scares people!" Troi replied.  "And also,because it scares me as well."

Picard nodded in understanding.  The thought of his Ship's Counselor being able to probe his
mind caused him some discomfort, he admitted.  Had he known of her abilities in that regard, it might have changed his opinion as to the advisability of having her serve aboard the Enterprise.  It was distracting enough knowing that she was monitoring his emotional state, without the added burden of wondering whether or not she knew exactly what he was thinking as well!  He could also understand why Troi herself would be hesitant to use the mind-probe.  Sometimes, he reflected, it was better not to know what another person was thinking! It was also patently obvious that there was a very real, physical danger, which made him wonder if Troi's recovery was spontaneous or brought about by Dr. Crusher's intervention.

Crusher seemed to anticipate Picard's question. "When I found out that Troi was suffering from a systemic lack of this particular enzyme, I was able to synthesize a suitable substitute."

"Very good, Doctor.  Do you feel able to return to duty, Counselor?

"Yes, Captain," Troi replied.  Then her face took on a puzzled look.  "I'm curious, Captain, how did you know about Commander McFadden?"

"Centurion Saalesh," Picard answered shortly. 

"Saalesh?"

"Yes, according to S'dar, Saalesh is an extremely strong telepath.  She was able to pick up your exchange with McFadden, but because of her lack of training, was unsure of what it was she was experiencing.  S'dar used a mind-meld to extract the information from her memory," Picard concluded.

"There's something else, Captain."  Troi hesitated before continuing.  "I feel a presence very close by.  It's almost as if someone is reaching out to me."

"The Gaia?" Picard wondered aloud.

"Possibly," Troi replied.  "There's a strong emotional emanation, beyond that, I just don't know."

"Do you believe this contact to be intentional, Counselor?"

Troi shook her head.  "Not really, Captain. I perceive an element of frustration, the manifestation of which, are these emotional projections.  It might not be the Gaia at all," she cautioned.
"It could just as easily be one of the Romulan Commanders."

Picard thought he detected a note of obfuscation in the Counselor's characterization of the emotions she was feeling.  There is something she does not want me to know, he thought to himself.  Why?

"Deanna," Crusher said softly.  "I think it's time you told the Captain about your dream."

"What dream is she talking about, Counselor?" asked Picard, hoping he was about to find out why Troi had requested that he meet her without Will Riker being present.

Troi hesitated, unsure of her own feelings, and reluctant to reveal the thing she suspected, even to the Captain.  She remembered a great deal of the dream this time, although the identity of the man in the dream, or what he looked like, still eluded her.  She had called him Imzadi, but she knew the man was not Will Riker, and that left her with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Ever since we found the two Romulan cruisers, I've been having a strange dream," she began. "There have also been certain... premonitions."

"Premonitions?  That is strange.  I didn't realize that Betazoids possessed any precognitive abilities, Counselor!"

"That's one of the strange things, Captain," Troi replied.  "Normally, we don't!"  She paused, trying to collect her thoughts, and explain them to the Captain in a way that wouldn't make her sound totally unstable.

"When Excalibur arrived, I was possessed by a feeling of dread so strong that it made me physically ill.  I thought at first that it had something to do with the Excalibur's Captain."

Troi looked embarrassed, and Picard thought he knew the reason, but refrained from speaking. Instead, he allowed the Counselor to continue her story without interruption.

"I hate to admit it, Captain, but I think now that I was experiencing a jealous reaction to Captain Wilson.  Will is very attracted to her," Troi said quietly.  "And that upset me."

"Go on, Deanna," Crusher encouraged her.

"When I met Captain Wilson, I realized that my feelings were misplaced.  As I told you then, Christina is not attracted to Will."  Troi smiled remembering the Captain's own embarrassment when she told him of Wilson's strong sexual attraction to him.

"I get the point, Counselor," Picard said, clipping that particular line of reasoning short.  "Please continue."

"Once I realized that it wasn't simple jealousy, I began to consider the possibility that this feeling of dread was an empathic response that I was picking up from someone else."

"Someone not on board the Enterprise?" 

"I believe so." 

Again, Picard was given the distinct impression that there was an element to this story the
Counselor was loathe to divulge, as if she couldn't bring herself to make the final conclusion regarding her experience.  "There's something you're not telling me, Counselor," he observed.  "What is it?

Troi got up from the bio-bed, and began to pace back and forth, obviously agitated.  "This is going to sound very strange, Captain," she said, stopping in front of Picard, and looking directly into his eyes.  She took a deep breath, before blurting out.  "I think I am falling in love with the man who is projecting these emotions!"

Picard was unable to prevent the expression of shock from registering on his face.  Troi's admission absolutely stunned him!  How in the world could a person fall in love with somebody they had never met!  Then he remembered Adam, a young man who had been betrothed to Counselor Troi as a child, but who had fallen in love with a Tellarian woman. A woman who, up until the time the Enterprise intercepted the Tellarian vessel she was aboard, Adam had never met, but whose image had obsessed him his whole life!  It was possible, Picard thought.  Strange, but possible.

"Do you honestly believe this man might be a Romulan, Counselor?" Picard asked, wishing to clarify the origin of this dream, both for himself and for Troi.

"I don't think this man is Romulan, Captain," Troi finally admitted, and then with more "In fact, I am sure he is not!"

"Very well then.  Assuming this individual is not aboard one of the Federation vessels, there is only one possible explanation."

"The Gaia," Troi whispered. 

"The Gaia!" Picard stated with conviction.

****

"Preflight diagnostics are complete, Commander Data.  All systems are operating within normal parameters."

"Thank you, Centurion," Data replied from his position at the Command Console of the Guild spacecraft. "Secure the Flight Dynamics station for nominal flight profile."

"The navigation and communications system check out too, Data," LaForge volunteered.  "I'd say we're as ready as we'll ever be!"

"Very well, Geordi.  Load point to point coordinates for the transfer from Excalibur to the Enterprise."

LaForge entered the information into the navigation terminal, and was rewarded with the cryptic comment, "Nav profile accepted", being displayed on the monitor at the navigator's station.  "Program loaded, and accepted, Data!"

"Acknowledged.  Command Console monitors indicate command priorty architecture is on line and functioning properly."  Data tapped his combadge.  "Data to Captain Wilson!"

"Wilson here, go ahead, Commander."

"We have completed our diagnostic checks, and are ready to depart, Captain."

"Very well, Commander.  I'll be right down." 

"Acknowledged!  Data out!"

"Looks like we're getting the grand send-off!" LaForge commented.

Both Data, and Saalesh, looked curiously in LaForge's direction.  

"Grand send-off?" Saalesh queried, arching one eyebrow in a very Vulcan manner.

"A figure of speech, Saalesh," LaForge explained. 

"Ah!" the two other officers responded in unison.

LaForge just shook his head, amazed at the similar way their minds worked.  He was beginning to feel a genuine fondness for the young Romulan.  She was one hell of a programmer, there was no doubt about that, and he was fast coming to the conclusion that Saalesh was a nice person as well.  He even detected a well-developed sense of humour, something he would not have credited a Romulan with having only a few days before.

Incredible, he thought.  I've been judging an entire race by the actions of the Romulans we've confronted over the years.  It was an important lesson that he would try not to forget in the future. Don't judge people by what they are, or what they represent, but by their character and actions as individuals!  As far as he was concerned, Saalesh had proved herself to be trustworthy, and deserving of his friendship.  He hoped he would get the opportunity to express those sentiments to her before this mission was over.

"Commander Data?"

"Yes, Centurion."

"It appears that we are able to get external visuals through the Flight Dynamics terminal. The visual arrays are numbered one to fourteen. Should I bring them on line?"

"Make it so," Data replied.

Saalesh input the appropriate command into her terminal, and an extraordinary thing happened. The bulkheads of the Guild spacecraft seemed to disappear, leaving the three of them with an unobstructed view of the Excalibur's hanger deck, in any direction they cared to look!

"Fascinating!" Data exclaimed.  "This lends credence to your theory that this vessel was designed as a dedicated interceptor, Geordi."

"I concur, Data," LaForge agreed.  "Saalesh, can we bring up tactical displays on any of these screens?"

"Affirmative, Comm... Geordi.  Each of the visual arrays is equipped with a tactical interface. The images can be shifted between screens, in either automatic or manual mode."

"So in a battle, the crew can keep track of what's going on around them.  And as targeting information changes due to the attitude of the spacecraft, the images are shifted from screen to screen!

Pretty sophisticated for the twenty-first century, Data," LaForge concluded.

"It also indicates quite conclusively that the Inter-Planetary Guild was involved in much more than simple exploration, Geordi, and that the governments of Earth had every right to be concerned about the Guild's motives."

"As should we!" Captain Wilson interjected from the open hatch, surprising the others with her sudden appearance.

How did she get to the hatch without us seeing her, LaForge wondered.  It seemed the same question had occured to Data, and Saalesh.  The Romulan was bent over the Flight Dynamics terminal, evidently trying to find out why Wilson's presence hadn't registered on the external visual monitors, and Data was looking speculatively at the monitors themselves which showed the Excalibur's hanger deck in exquisite detail.

"This is really extraordinary," Wilson observed, gingerly stepping out of the hatch onto the now transparent deck of the Guild spacecraft.  "How did they do it?" she asked of no-one in particular.

"Computer enhanced, optical scanners," Saalesh answered.  "In it's way, as advanced as the optical suites aboard Romulan starships."

"Why didn't it detect the Captain's approach, Centurion," Data asked.

Saalesh's brow furrowed in concentration.  "It seems the optical image processors automatically filter out biological profiles.  Manual overide of the filter system is possible," she continued, "but it will take me a few minutes to re-write the visual  protocols."

"Will that be necessary?" asked Wilson.  "You're only going to fly it from here to the Enterprise."

"The thing is, Captain," LaForge replied.  "It could just as easily have been Commander McFadden who took us by surprise.  I think being able to see people coming toward the ship when it's aboard the Enterprise is a good idea!"

Wilson considered LaForge's suggestion.  It was true that McFadden was still at large, and that he posed a threat to the security of the Guild spacecraft, but he was still aboard Excalibur. As far as we know, she admitted to herself, it's possible he will be able to get off the ship without our detecting him. If he hasn't already! she thought. Still miffed at her security people's inability to capture the rogue officer.  "I see your point, Commander.  Very well, Centurion, do it!"

"Yes, Captain," Saalesh responded, and began entering commands into her terminal.

"Commander McFadden has still not been captured, Captain," Data observed.  "He is obviously very skilled at techniques of escape and evasion."

"Not surprising, considering his background, Commander!" Wilson shot back, not sure she liked the android's implied criticism of her crew's efficiency.

"Yes," Data agreed, oblivious to Wilson's brittle tone of voice.  "Starfleet's Intelligence Directorate has an exceptional training program.  I have often wondered if I might have made a good intelligence officer."

"You, Mr. Data?  Why in the world would you want to become a spy?" Wilson asked, dumbfounded by the turn the conversation had taken.

"It would give me the opportunity to further my study of humanity, while at the same time affording me a glimpse of the darker side of human existence which I am not presently exposed to, serving aboard the Enterprise."

"It might also afford the Romulans or Ferengi the opportunity to dissect you down to your component parts, Data!" LaForge said   "Let's face it, you tend to stand out in a crowd!"

"No kidding!" Wilson agreed emphatically.  "I'm afraid you wouldn't make much of a field operative Mr. Data, you're too inviting a target to hostile intelligence services to be of much use to our own."

Wilson had no way of knowing that Data had already been involved in a covert operation to the Romulan home-world, and he was not about to reveal to her the part he had played in that mission, so he kept his opinion of her analysis to himself.  He was satisfied, in his own mind, that he would make an excellent spy.  "Perhaps you are right, Captain Wilson.  I shall endeavor not to dwell on a possible career move."

"I think that would be wise, Commander," Wilson replied uncertainly, not sure if she was interpreting the adroid's inflection correctly.
 
If LaForge didn't know better, he might think Data was being sarcastic.  Then again, his friend
had been known to experiment with human speech patterns, usually with horrific results, and it could be that he was actually trying to be sarcastic. With Data, he reflected, you just never knew what might pop out of his mouth next!  That was the trouble, although Data certainly had the best vocabulary of any officer in Starfleet, he had problems using words and mannerisms in the proper context, which created difficulties for the both of them.  LaForge sighed, sometimes he felt as if one of his sole responsibilities in life was acting as Data's official interpreter when he committed some particularly embarrassing verbal faux-pas.  It certainly made life interesting, he thought, resigned to playing the role that fate had dealt him.  "Uh... Captain, I'm sure Data didn't mean that the way it sounded."

I keep forgetting that he's a machine, Wilson thought, dismissing the notion that Data might have been trying to insult her.  She grinned at LaForge with understanding.  "I'm aware of that, Mr. LaForge.  I think that I'm finally getting used to Commander Data's unique way of putting things."	

Saalesh almost smiled, but restrained herself immediately.  Captain Wilson was already uncomfortable with her being assigned to Data's team.  It wouldn't be prudent to antagonize her further by laughing at an inappropriate moment.  Especially since, if she understood correctly, the humour was at the Captain's expense.  Saalesh was quite sure that Commander Data had been intentionally sarcastic. Probably as an experiment, but Data was full of surprises, so she never really knew what he might be thinking. The sophistication of his programming is truly astounding, she thought.  What a unique individual!

Saalesh was beginning to feel she belonged among these people   For the first time  since the death of her mother, she didn't feel as if her life was in imminent danger.  She knew that was a naive point of view.  Commander Srelal had sentenced her to death, and had every intention, she was sure, of carrying out that sentence as soon as it was convenient for her to do so.  Nonetheless, she was confident that she would survive to claim her birthright on Vulcan.

Thoughts of Vulcan turned to thoughts of S'dar. The mind-meld had left her confused.  There was no way he could extract the information that Captain Picard required without delving deeply into her personality, but after the meld was completed S'dar had studiously avoided any mention of her feelings toward him.  Those feelings had changed since they shared the meld, she admitted.  Although she was attracted to the Vulcan philosophy, she was less attracted to the type of personality which that philosophy sought to develop.  The detachment with which S'dar viewed life struck Saalesh as being unecessarily cold.  She recognized that Surak's teaching was intended to control the animal passions of her species, so that they might channel those energies in more productive directions, but she didn't think he meant to deprive the Vulcan people of love or compassion   Surely, that couldn't have been his ambition, to dispense with the good as well as the bad!  Would reunification mean the end of joy as well as conflict for her people?

For the first time in her life she began to question the teachings of Surak.  Her father, although
dedicated to the Vulcan philosophy, had not seemed as cold and aloof as S'dar.  Then again, as S'dar had pointed out, her father was half human.  Perhaps he had chosen his own unique path to enlightenment. How ironic, she thought, if in seeking out her Vulcan ancestry  she was to find that it was her human side that would control her destiny.

Mother was not human, and she too followed the teachings of the Vulcan Master's, but she was not afraid to express her love, or her displeasure, Saalesh remembered with fondness.  Am I prepared to give up my grief for her, she wondered.  The memory of her mother's death was still as painfully fresh as the day it happened, fifteen years before...

"...Mother, I'm frightened." ,

"It had to be done, Saalesh.  I vowed that I would avenge my Vulcan parent, and I have.  I accepted... that the confrontation might lead to my death."

Saalesh held her hand tightly, as she was racked with pain from the gaping wound in her side.  "Please don't die!"

"That is out of my hands, little one," her mother replied, a hint of humour surfacing through the pain.  "One rarely has the luxury of selecting the moment of one's own death." She looked up at the woman standing by Saalesh's side, focusing her eyes by sheer willpower alone.  "You will keep her safe until he comes for her, Shalote." It was not a question, but a demand.

"I will do as you ask," the woman replied stoically.

"He will come, Saalesh," her mother had said then, and as she gripped Saalesh's hand even tighter, an image of a tall austere man formed in Saalesh's mind.

"Your father," her mother gasped, and then died...

Fourteen pain filled years later, he had come, and at the age of twenty-two, Saalesh was finally reunited with her father...

"Centurion?"

Captain Wilson's query brought Saalesh out of her painful recollections.  "Yes, Captain."

"Have you finished re-writing the visual processing program?"

"Yes, Sir!" Saalesh replied, rechecking her terminal to make sure the task had been completed.

"Very well.  Commander Data, you are cleared to depart.  Good luck!" Wilson added as an afterthought.

"Thank you, Captain," Data said.

Captain Wilson took one last look around the Guild spacecraft, and then exited through the open hatch.  They were able to see her clearly, as she walked across the hanger and made her way to the observation bubble.

"Departure stations," Data ordered.  "Retract landing struts, seal hatch."

"Landing gear retracted!  Hatch seated, and sealed!  Internal pressure at one atmosphere, internal gravity support at one gee terran," Saalesh intoned.

"Navigation is up," LaForge reported from the Navigator's terminal.  "Relative altitude, one meter, and holding!"

"Acknowledged."  Data tapped his combadge. "Excalibur Departure Control, Commander Data. Open hanger doors, and release forcefield!"

"Acknowledged, Commander!" Excalibur's Flight Operations Officer replied.

The three of them watched as the large doors opened, and the pressurization light in the hanger changed from green to red.  Indicating that the hanger deck was now depressurized.

"You have the spacecraft, Commander," Saalesh confirmed.

Data briefly flexed his fingers, before inserting them into the recessed, four-finger, keypad beside his right hand.  "I have the spacecraft," he acknowledged, completing the take-off procedure.

***

Chapter Twelve

The Captain and Counselor Troi stepped off the turbo-lift at the same time that Worf and Commander Srelal exited the lift on the other side of the bridge.  Worf took his place at the Tactical Station, as Troi settled herself in her regular seat to the left of the Captain's chair, now occupied by Commander Riker.  Riker acknowledged her presence with a brief nod, and then turned his attention to the Captain.

"Status, Number One?"

"Excalibur and Hood are in position, awaiting your order to proceed, Captain.  Data, Geordi, and Centurion Saalesh, have just left Excalibur in the Guild ship, and are on route to the Enterprise."

"Any news on Commander McFadden?" Picard asked, addressing the question to Lieutenant Worf.

"Commander McFadden is still at large," the Klingon replied with a scowl.

"How unfortunate," Picard said, not at all pleased  by the knowledge that the man still posed a threat to the Federation Task Force.  "Very well, Lieutenant. When the Guild vessel is aboard, post guards on all doors to the main shuttle bay," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir!" Worf replied. 

Picard glanced at Commander Srelal.  "Were you able to make contact with your people, Commander?" 

"Yes, Picard," Srelal answered, making it clear that she did not want to discuss the matter in
front of the others.

Picard took the hint.  "My ready room," he said shortly.  "Number One, carry on.  Advise me when Commander Data commences his approach."  He then turned on his heel, and walked into his office, followed closely by the Romulan officer.

****

"Tea, Earl Grey, hot," Picard ordered tersely. "Can I get you anything, Commander?" he asked.

"Tea would be fine, Captain Picard," Srelal replied.

"Two cups," he amended, and when they appeared gingerly brought them over to his desk, placing one in front of Srelal and taking a sip of his before sitting down across from her.  "Well, Commander?"

"The High Command has agreed to your offer of mediation, Captain.  At least," and here she paused thoughtfully.  "That is what the reply to my message implied."

"Implied?"  Picard's exasperation was evident by his expression, and tone of voice.  "That doesn't exactly sound like a glowing endorsement of our initiative, Srelal."

"It isn't an outright refusal, Captain," the Romulan said quietly.  "You are not exactly the Romulan Empire's first choice as mediator!" she added.

Picard sat back in his chair and sipped his tea.  He could understand why the Romulan High Command would be less than thrilled with the role he intended to play in the proposed negotiations. Picard was well known to the leadership of the Empire, having almost been captured during his recent mission to the Romulan home-world, and he could see why they would think him an unsuitable candidate for the role of arbitrator.  A problem, he thought, but not an insurmountable one.  "I need not necessarily be involved in the negotiations, Commander," he said, looking for a possible solution. "Can you think of someone who would be more acceptable to the High Command.  Commander Riker perhaps?"

The Romulan looked skeptical.  "Riker follows the orders of his Captain."  Seeing that Picard was irritated by her response, she quickly added. "That will be the perception, Picard.  I don't mean to question the integrity of your First Officer."

Picard nodded, acknowledging the sincerity of Srelal's last statement, and recognizing that the Romulan was trying to make him cognizant of the realities they were facing in this situation. The mistrust built up over two centuries of bitter conflict were not easily dismissed, he thought angrily, but how could they take advantage of this opportunity unless one side or the other was willing to make the first compromise?

"May I make a suggestion, Picard?" Srelal asked.

The Captain of the Enterprise smiled.  "I am always open to suggestions, Commander."

"This conflict is between Romulans and Humans," she began diplomatically.  "What we require is an individual who is neither Human nor Romulan, and whose race is not an ally of either side."

"Go on."

"I believe Commander Data might fit these requirements."

"Data is a Starfleet  officer," Picard pointed out.  "He could also be accused of following the orders of his Captain."

"It is my understanding that you can order him to be impartial," Srelal replied,  "And that he will follow those orders, treating both sides equally, without regard to Federation or Romulan strategic
objectives."

"You seem to know a great deal about Commander Data's capabilities, Srelal."

"As I am sure you are aware, Picard, your android is the subject of much speculation.  A great deal of effort is expended gathering such information. Let us not quibble over the reasons why I know as much about Commander Data as I do.  It is sufficient that I, and my superiors, have confidence in his ability to take the role of an objective mediator."

The more he thought about it, the more Picard liked the idea of Data's participation in the peace talks between the Guild and the Romulans.  Data was objective, he thought, and he also brought a unique perpective that might be useful during the conference.  How they were going to get the Guild to participate was another matter entirely. The Guild  is likely to trust us even less than the Romulans.  Especially if, as he suspected, these were the very same people who were driven from Earth three centuries before.  "If Data acts as arbitrator of this dispute, can you guarrantee Romulan participation?"

Srelal thought carefully before replying.  "I can."

"Very well."  Picard was interrupted by the voice of Commander Riker.

"Riker to Picard!"

"Yes, Number One?"

"The Guild ship is beginning it's approach to the Main Shuttle Bay, Captain."

"Understood.  We will join you shortly."  Picard turned his attention back to the Romulan sitting across from him.  "Once Data is aboard, we are going to carry out the destruction of the derelicts,"
he stated matter-of-factly, watching Srelal closely for her reaction.

"I have communicated as much to the Captain of the Ko'Leur," she responded calmly, not indicating one way or the other how this action would be viewed by the warbird's Captain, or how it would affect the proposed negotiations.

Seeing that Srelal was not about to volunteer anything, Picard came right out and asked her point blank,  "Will he resist our action?"

Srelal decided to give him an honest answer. "He didn't divulge his intentions, Picard.  That he might resist the destruction of our cruisers is a distinct possibility."

There it was, Picard thought, the 'stick' that went with the 'carrot'.  A very old negotiating ploy, but unfortunately still an effective one! Would the Ko'Leur's Captain throw away the chance of a peaceful resolution to their conflict with the Guild to satisfy a point of honour?  Impossible to say with certainty, he decided.

Srelal watched Picard carefully, trying to decide whether or not he would call her bluff.  Although the Ko'Leur's Captain had not said one way or the other if he would resist the destruction of the two derelict's, Srelal suspected that he would not.  By now, she reflected, the two cruisers must be only kilometers away from crossing the Neutral Zone boundary and entering Federation space.  In which case, as any fool could see, the humans were within their rights to do with them whatever they chose.

Picard weighed his options.  If he were to proceed with DeSoto's plan to destroy the derelicts, it could conceivably provide the catalyst for an escalation of the conflict between the Romulans and the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild.  The Captain of the warbird Ko'Leur might see it as a declaration of support for the Guild by the Federation Task Force. On the other hand, if they backed down, and didn't destroy the derelicts, that might be seen as a sign of weakness.  Picard based his decision as much on well-honed instinct, as intellectual analysis.

"We will proceed with the destruction of the derelicts, Commander," Picard stated unequivocally. "If your warships intervene, we will defend ourselves."

"As you wish, Picard," Srelal responded.  "I believe the human expression is; 'let the chips fall where they may!'"

Picard did not comment, instead he rose from his chair, signaling the Romulan officer that their meeting was concluded.

Srelal also rose, preceding Picard out of the office, and back onto the bridge of the Enterprise.

****

"Commander!  Propulsive field integrity is becomming unstable," Saalesh warned.  "Power transfer to the field grid is down by twenty-two percent!"

"Stabilize," Data ordered calmly, frowning as he tried to analyse the problem which also appeared on the Command Repeater console.

"We're two hundred kilometers from the Enterprise, Data," LaForge informed him.

The field integrity continued to weaken, despite Saalesh's efforts to stabilize the power transfer. She called up a diagnostic display on the Flight Dynamics Terminal, trying to find the problem, but the propulsion system seemed to be functioning normally.  Nevertheless, the field strength had dropped by another fourteen percent.  "We are in danger, Commander.  Field strength is now down by thirty-six percent.  Estimate field collapse in fifty-two seconds."

"Understood, Centurion," Data replied.  "Maneuvering field is also collapsing," then a few seconds later, "I have lost control of the spacecraft."

"LaForge to Enterprise!  Emergency!"

****

The emergency call came in just as Picard was walking through the doors of the ready room to the Command section of the bridge.  The approaching Guild spacecraft with Data, LaForge, and Saalesh, on board was visible on the main viewscreen, and as he watched, the vessel began to wobble.

Lieutenant Worf immediately responded to LaForge's distress call.  "Enterprise here!  What is the nature of your emergency?"

"We have a complete failure of both propulsion, and maneuvering fields, Enterprise!  Request you lock on to us with a tractor beam!"

"Make it so, Lieutenant," Picard ordered.

"Aye, Sir!  Tractor beam engaged!"  Worf grimaced as he noticed a problem developing with the tractor beam at the same instant that a red light began to blink on the Tactical Station monitor, accompanied by a harsh three note chirp.

"Captain!  I am unable to maintain a lock on the Guild spacecraft!"  He glanced down at the monitor, which had now isolated the problem.  "There is an interference pattern developing within the tractor beam!"

"Change frequencies to compensate, Lieutenant," Riker ordered.

"I am trying, Commander," Worf growled.  "No effect!  The beam is still breaking up."

"Picard to Transporter Room Three!"

"Transporter Room Three, O'Brian here, Captain!"

"Chief, can you get a lock on the three crewmen on the Guild ship?"

"Negative  Sir!  I've been trying since we monitored the distress call, but the same interference pattern is present on all transporter frequencies.  It looks as if we're being jammed, Captain."

"I concur!" Worf declared, glaring at the Romulan officer seated beside Counselor Troi, making it quite clear who he thought was responsible for the jamming.

As if to prove the Klingon right, the upper right corner of the main viewscreen began to shimmer, and a Romulan warbird materialized, bearing down on the helpless Guild spacecraft.

"Can we extend our shields around the Guild ship, Mr. Worf?"  Riker asked.

"That would be unwise, Commander," Srelal said. "At this range, with your shields extended so thinly, the Ko'Leur could disable them with a single strike."

"I agree," Worf concluded, surprised that the Romulan had offered the information.

"Lock on phasers, Mr. Worf," Picard ordered, completely calm.  "Prepare to fire on my command."

"Wait!"

They all turned to look at Counselor Troi, who had risen halfway out of her seat.

"What is it, Counselor," Picard demanded, none too pleased by the distraction at such a critical moment.

"I don't think the Romulans are attacking, Captain," Troi replied, wide eyed.  "They are responding to Geordi's distress call!"

"The warbird has engaged it's tractor beam, Captain," Ensign Rho reported from the Ops Station.  "It seems that they are unable to maintain a lock on the Guild ship!"

"What the hell!" Riker muttered.

"Stand down phasers!" Picard ordered quickly, not wishing to provoke the Romulan Captain into doing something he had not intended to do.

"Phasers off line," Worf acknowledged grimly, not convinced that this was a wise move, and keeping his hands poised over the Weapons Console in order to bring the phasers back on line in an instant, should he be ordered to do so.

****

"Our problems just got a lot worse, Data!"

Data looked up from the Command Console, inferring from Geordi's  tone of voice that he had noticed something very serious indeed.  The Romulan warbird was less than two hundred kilometers away, and coming on fast.  "Centurion, what is the status of our Weapons System"

"Propulsion and Weapons systems are integral, Commander," Saalesh answered.  "When the propulsion grid went down we lost the weapons as well."

"Data to Enterprise."

"Enterprise, go ahead, Commander."

"We are in serious danger, Mr. Worf.  What is the status of the tractor beam we requested?"

"We are unable to lock on to you, Commander. Both the tractor beam, and transporter, frequencies are being jammed."

"The Romulans?"

"Apparently not," Lieutenant Worf responded. "Sensors indicate that the Romulan vessel is unable to engage it's tractor beam.  The jamming is affecting them as well."

Fascinating, Data thought.  If the Romulans were not responsible for the interference with the Enterprise transporters, and tractor beam, there was only one possible conclusion.  "Lieutenant, initiate communications interface with the Emergency Locator Beacon, and run sub-routine Data Alpha."

****

Worf looked to Captain Picard for confirmation of Data's instructions.  Picard nodded in the affirmative. "Make it so, Lieutenant!"

"Aye, Sir."  Worf began to configure his board to receive,and transmit, using the Guild communications protocols that Data had written previously.

Picard and Troi shared a look.  "Do you sense anything, Counselor?" he asked quietly.

Troi briefly closed her eyes, seeking the presence that she had felt so close to in her dream.  She shook her head in response to the Captain's question. "Nothing, Captain."

"Captain!" Ensign Rho exclaimed. "The Guild ship is moving!"

Picard whirled to face the viewscreen.  Sure enough, the Guild ship was moving away from them, and the Romulan vessel, toward the Neutral Zone boundary.  "Commander Data, report!"

"We seem to be moving, Captain," Data replied, not offering any concrete explanation or hypothesis for the movement.

"We can see that, Mr. Data," Picard said drily. "Are the ships sensors telling you anything about why you have suddenly begun to move away from us?"

There was a pause.  "The Command Priority functions of the Guild ship seem to have been remotely activated, Captain.  I can only assume that these vessels are equipped with some version of a prefix code which allows another Guild vessel access to all flight controls."

"Ensign, can you plot a course track for Data's ship?" asked Riker, walking over to the Ops Station occupied by Ensign Rho.

"I'll try, Commander," she replied, changing the display on her console, and trying to project a course for the Guild ship based on it's present trajectory away from the Enterprise.

"Try hard, Ensign!" Riker ordered, his tone brittle.

"Yes, Sir!" the Ensign said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, and making a face which Riker couldn't see.

"Take it easy, Will," Picard cautioned his First Officer when he sat back down.  "She's doing the best she can."

Riker regretted his outburst the minute it passed his lips   Ensign Rho Laren was one of the few junior officers he had ever met who did not seem the least intimidated by the prospect of being chewed out by him, or any of the other senior staff.  Her flippant attitude grated on his nerves at times, he admitted, and sometimes caused him to speak without thinking. What was even more irritating, was the fact that usually it was him and not Ensign Rho who ended up looking foolish.  As was the case now.

"I apologize, Ensign," Riker said. "My remark was uncalled for."

Rho smiled to herself without turning to face Riker.  "Course plotted, Commander.  Long-range sensor sweep on that track is indicating a large asteroidal mass.  Range... seven million kilometers."

"Thank you, Ensign," Picard said, barely suppressing a smile of his own.  Few people could handle Riker as well as Rho Laren, he thought.  It was a pity they seemed to dislike each other as much as they did, they made a good team.

****

Aboard Excalibur, they had been monitoring the intra-ship communications between the Enterprise, and the Guild ship, with Data and the others on board.  Wilson had also ordered her tactical officer to plot a projected course for the scout-craft, once it became apparent that it was moving away from the Federation Task Force.  There had been a tense few seconds when the warbird decloaked, and Wilson considered opening fire on the Romulan, but the Excalibur's sensors had detected the jamming field, and the Romulan's being susceptible to it, in time to prevent her from doing anything so rash.

"Status, Mr. Ursal?"

"The Guild vessel is moving away at one-tenth impulse power.  Sensors have detected a large object at a distance of seven point zero zero three, million kilometers along it's projected course track."

"The Gaia?"

"Unlikely, Sir.  Mass spectrometry would indicate a celestial body, probably an asteroid."

"A big enough asteroid to hide a ship behind?"

"It would depend on the size of the ship," Lieutenant Ursal observed.

Wilson rolled her eyes in exasperation.  She sometimes wondered if she were saddled with the most obtuse group of officers Starfleet could find.

"The asteroid is large enough to conceal a vessel of the size we expect the Gaia to be, Captain," S'dar volunteered from the Ops Station.  "However, even if the Gaia were on this side of the asteroid, it is unlikely we could detect it until we were within visual range."

Wilson thought about the possible options, and couldn't really say she liked any of them.  "What's the Romulan up to, S'dar?" she asked.

"The warbird is holding position, three hundred forty-two kilometers from the Enterprise, still within the Neutral Zone."

"Mr. Ursal, open a channel to the Enterprise."

"Aye, Sir.  Channel open."

"On screen," Wilson ordered.  "Enterprise from Excalibur."

The bridge of the larger ship appeared on the forward viewscreen, and Captain Picard answered her hail.  "Picard here, go ahead Captain."

"We've been monitoring your communications with Commander Data," Wilson began.  "I would like to pursue the Guild spacecraft.  It seems likely that the Gaia is orbiting that asteroid," she concluded, watching Picard closely for a reaction.

Picard pursed his lips, considering Wilson's idea.  "Permission granted.  Mr. Worf, transmit Data's communications interface program to the Excalibur."

"Aye, Sir," Wilson overheard the Enterprise's Tactical Officer acknowledge.

"Coming through now, Captain," Lieutenant Ursal informed her.

"Very well   Helm, plot a pursuit trajectory, one third impulse power.  Once we make up some of their lead on us, match course track and speed" she ordered.

"Aye, Captain.  Course plotted, and laid in."

Wilson turned back to the viewscreen.  "Captain Picard?"

"Yes, Captain," Picard responded.

"I'm a little concerned about the warbird parked off your starboard beam," she admitted.  "I trust you will watch our back."

"Rest assured, Captain, the Enterprise will cover you," the senior officer replied, the trace of a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

Wilson nodded sharply in acknowledgement, glad that she was finally going to get a chance to do something.  "Thank you, Picard.  Excalibur out!"  She tensed her fingers around the arms of her chair, before issuing her next order.  "Helm, engage!"  

The helm officer complied with her order instantly, and Excalibur got underway.

****

"Lieutenant, open a channel to the Ko'Leur," Picard ordered tersely.

"Channel open," Worf replied.

Picard looked to the Romulan Commander sitting beside Counselor Troi.  "Commander, inform the warbird's Captain that he is not to interfere in Excalibur's attempt to make contact with the Gaia."

Srelal smiled sweetly.  "The Ko'Leur's Captain has a mind of his own, Picard."

"It is not to be phrased as a request, Srelal," Picard retorted bluntly.

The Romulan's smile lost some of it's sparkle. "On screen!" she spat.

Worf made a great show of looking at Captain Picard for confirmation, illustrating that he wasn't about to start taking orders from a Romulan!

"Make it so, Lieutenant."

****

Data, Geordi, and Saalesh, were still trying to wrest control of the Guild spacecraft from whoever had seized it, without much success.  The command architecture was completely inaccessible to them, apparently as a result of the override protocols which had been remotely initiated.

"It's strange that S'dar and I did not detect the remote sub-system when we studied the spacecraft's computer," Saalesh observed, quite calm, despite the fact that all indications were she was about to meet the people the Romulan Empire had been trying to destroy for the past seven months. 

Data was viewing the schematics that S'dar and Saalesh had compiled while the Guild ship was still aboard Excalibur.  He was puzzled by the fact that they had not detected the system which now appeared to be activated.  The engineering scans should have mapped out every electronic system in the Guild ship's design, but obviously, they had not.  It was a mystery, and Data had always been intrigued by mysteries.

"The Excalibur has moved to pursue us, Data," Geordi called out from the Navigation Console.

"Is the forward sensor array still under our control, Geordi?" Data asked.

"All the sensor systems are operating normally, Data," LaForge replied.  "We have complete control of all the internal sub-routines."

"Commence a long-range sensor sweep along our present course," Data suggested.  "It is possible that we will be able to detect the Gaia before Excalibur can, and warn them of any impending confrontation."

"Good idea, Data."

Data returned to his analysis of the ship's schematics, intent on finding the answer to the question of why they had lost control of the spacecraft, but couldn't discover any mechanism which could enable the Guild ship to be controlled remotely.

Saalesh was working on the same problem, with much the same result, nothing!  Unlike Commander Data, Saalesh indulged herself in a fit of anger over what she perceived to be a failure on her part. It was a very unvulcan lapse, she knew, but she found that she couldn't help herself.  I'll try to be Vulcan tommorow, she thought.  Assuming we survive that long.  How could she have missed something so elementary as a separate control routine?  It didn't make any sense!  Unless...

"Commander Data, is it possible that the computer system we detected when we did the initial engineering scan is not the only computer on board?"

Data was immediately reminded of a truism put forth by one of his favourite fictional characters, Sherlock Holmes; 'Eliminate the obvious, and whatever is left, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.' As far as he was concerned, they had already eliminated all the obvious possibilities, which meant that they must begin to search for less likely alternatives. Therefore, Saalesh's suggestion was valid.

Data replied to Saalesh's question with a human saying, which he personally knew to be absolutely invalid, but which seemed to fit the circumstances. "Anything is possible, Centurion.  Please expand your hypothesis."

Data's response surprised her.  She knew for a fact that 'anything' was not possible, or even very likely, but she did not try to argue with the android's statement.  Instead she attempted to put her half-formed idea into a logical framework.  "The scan that S'dar and I conducted was intensive," she began. "Every component and sub-system was documented and analysed.   Nevertheless, we missed a critical sub-routine, and by so doing have endangered this vessel and her crew.  I cannot accept this as being possible."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Saalesh," LaForge interjected. "You're no more infallible than anyone else!"

She swiveled her chair to face the Enterprise's Chief Engineer.  "How much do you know about Romulan educational criteria, Commander LaForge?"

LaForge noticed that she was using his official title again, and his VISOR was detecting a subtle change in her electro-magnetic aura, which he had learned over the years usually meant the person he was looking at was becoming angry.  He tried to deflect that anger by answering her question honestly.  "Romulan education?  Not a lot."

"Then believe me when I tell you that it is among the most intensive training programs anywhere in the galaxy.  There is a saying among the Romulans, that those children selected for service to the Imperial Fleet are 'bonded' for life, and so make poor mates for those who are not so 'bonded'!"

LaForge noticed the special emphasis she put on the word 'bonded', but didn't quite understand what Saalesh was getting at.

Seeing his confusion, she put it to him more bluntly.  "The implication, Commander, is that we are 'intimate' with our computers!"

"I see," LaForge stammered, finally getting the point, but unsure of how it was related to his first observation.

Saalesh sighed, a very human thing to do she realized.  Perhaps her close association with humans over the past two days had awakened some, long buried, genetic memory that she was responding to.  She couldn't recollect ever having sighed before.

"The point I was trying to illustrate, Geordi, is that we are trained from childhood to understand computers.  Not just ones of our own design, but all computers.  We develop an almost symbiotic relationship with them."

"So what you're saying is, that it would be pretty hard for you to miss something as obvious as a remotely initiated, propulsion control program," LaForge concluded.

"Exactly!" Saalesh replied.  "It also strains the realm of credibility to assume that not only I, but S'dar, and you yourself, could miss something so obvious!"

"If you are correct, Centurion," Data said.  "The secondary computer system must be hidden extremely well, considering the fact that we completely disassembled this vessel, and three others, before restoring it to operational condition."

Geordi was thinking hard, wondering where he would hide a computer guidance and control system. He drew a complete blank.  Deception was so contrary to his basic nature that he couldn't imagine why anyone would even want to do such a thing!  Lockout codes, and other security teasures, he could understand, but to hide an entire computer system? He shook his head in amazement.  What would cause someone to take such a drastic step?

As she turned over in her mind the process she and S'dar went through when doing their analysis of the Guild ship's computer architecture, Saalesh could find no flaw in the approach they took to complete the task.  In retrospect, it seemed obvious that they had missed something, some vital link, because it was equally obvious that if there were another computer system on board, the two systems had to be connected so that the primary propulsion control could be taken off line at the same time that the secondary control system was activated. Where was the connection made?  That was the question.

The Command Priority System on Commander Data's console was the answer that popped into her mind. The vessel was designed so that the spacecraft's commander could override any input from the other two crew positions.  It made sense that any attempt to bypass primary control would be made through the Commander's terminal!  She immediately called up the appropriate schematics and, now that she knew what to look for, found the connection point without any trouble at all.  Unfortunately, that didn't solve their problems, it just left them with a deeper mystery.  The junction was a dead-end loop!

"Commander Data," Saalesh said, drawing his attention to her terminal.  "I have found what I think to be a connection point between the primary and secondary computer systems, but the junction of the two systems leads to a dead end.  The trace simply disappears!"

Data activated the Flight Dynamics repeater on the Command Console to view Saalesh's discovery. She had high-lighted the portion of the schematic where the junction was located in red.  "You are correct, Centurion.  This is the section of the primary computer system that is dedicated to handle command priority overrides.  It is logical to suppose that this is the area where a connection to a secondary sub-system would be made."

"I think maybe the position of the second computer just became irrelevant, Data" LaForge said.  "Sensors have picked up a bogey, bearing zero-zero-zero relative, range nine hundred thousand kilometers!"

"Our velocity has dropped to five thousand kilometers per second, Commander," Saalesh reported a moment later.

"What is the present position of Excalibur, Geordi?" Data asked.

"Excalibur is seven hundred fifty thousand kilometers astern, holding relative position," LaForge replied.

Data reached forward, and transferred control of the ship's communications array to his console.  "Commander Data to Excalibur. .."

****

A green light suddenly flashed to life on the underside of the Guild scout-ship, causing Wilson to jump. At the same instant, Commander Data's voice intruded itself on the the almost absolute silence of the Excalibur's bridge.

"We are being hailed by the Guild ship, Captain," Lieutenant Ursal reported unnecessarily.

"I assumed as much, Lieutenant," snapped Wilson in reply.  "Do we have visual?"

"Aye, Sir."

"On screen!"  The image of the Guild spacecraft was immediately replaced by the visage of Commander Data.  Wilson could see the stars behind his head, a result of the illusion of transparency that the bulkheads of the smaller ship possessed.  "Report, Mr. Data," she ordered.

"Our sensors have detected another vessel, Captain Wilson," Data responded.  "It is in geo-synchronous orbit above the asteroid, at a range of eight hundred sixty thousand kilometers from our present position."

Wilson turned to S'dar.  "Do we read anything at those co-ordinates?"

S'dar scanned his sensor board.  "Negative, Captain."

Damn, thought Wilson.  How can   we engage a vessel that our sensors don't even register!  Not that she was intending to take any offensive action, but it would have been nice to have the capability to at least detect the Gaia.  Assuming of course, that it actually was the Gaia out there!

"Recommendations, Mr. Data?" Wilson asked.

"I recommend you hold position, Captain," Data replied.  "Pending our making first contact with the Gaia."

Wilson didn't like it.  Once Data, LaForge, and the Centurion, were aboard the potentially hostile vessel, there was no way to tell what might happen to them.  If the crew of the Gaia had not had contact with Earth in over three hundred years, how would they react to an android, a blind engineer, and an alien computer expert, suddenly showing up in one of the Guild's own spacecraft, she wondered?

"Isn't it likely, Data, that the Guild ship is monitoring our communications right now, and already know the gist of why we are here?"

Data looked confused.  "Gist?" he queried.  "I am unfamiliar with that expression, Captain Wilson.  

"Gist, Data!" Wilson repeated.  "Gist!  The essential element of a thing!"

"Ahh...," Data replied, looking no more enlightened than he had before.  "The laser-comm system is line-of-sight only, so it is unlikely that the Gaia is monitoring our present communication.  But I suppose it is possible that they have deduced the 'gist' of our mission," he said, the new word rolling awkwardly off his tongue. "However, it would seem that they have a specific interest in this spacecraft."

"You have an invitation, and we don't, is that it?" Wilson said with a smile.

"That would be one way of phrasing it, Captain," Data replied.

Wilson thought about Data's proposal, and offered a compromise to satisfy her concerns.  "If you remain aboard the scout-craft, Excalibur will stand off two hundred fifty thousand kilometers, but if they take you aboard their vessel, I'm going to close to within transporter range."

"That would seem to be a prudent precaution, Captain," Data agreed.  "However, the Gaia has already demonstrated an ability to jam our transporter frequencies. How do you propose to circumvent this problem?"

"An excellent question, Commander.  S'dar?" Wilson asked.  "Any suggestions in that regard?"

The Vulcan swiveled his chair to face her.  "I believe that the jamming of the transporter was incidental to the main objective of preventing the Enterprise, and the Romulan ship, from locking on to the scout-craft with their tractor beams, Captain," he suggested.  "If this is true, and my analysis indicates that it is, then the Gaia is probably unaware that we possess the technology to achieve sub-quantum level, bio-molecular, transport."

"Are you saying that we could take them by surprise, and get our people back before they knew what was happening?"

"That is my assumption, Captain," S'dar concluded.

I hope you're right, Wilson thought to herself. I've grown rather attached to Commander Data, and would hate to lose him.  There was another problem that she could envision, however.  Although Data, and LaForge,were equipped with Federation combadges, that allowed them to maintain a constant transporter lock, Saalesh had not been issued such a device, and Wilson did not wish to lose her either.  Romulan or not, Saalesh was a part of Commander Data's team, and her safety would be given the same consideration as that of the other two officers.

"S' dar?"

"Yes, Captain," the Vulcan responded.

"How can we keep a lock on Centurion Saalesh if they're taken aboard the Gaia?"

The Vulcan's expression did not change, but Wilson got the impression that the question surprised him, as if he hadn't considered the fact that Saalesh was not equipped in the same way as Data, and LaForge. We're all beginning to think of her as one of our own, Wilson thought, surprising herself as well. Who would have imagined a few days ago that I would be willing to put my ship at risk to save the life of a Romulan officer!

"The transporter trace," replied S'dar after a moments hesitation.  "The Centurion has used our transporter on at least two occasions, we can use the trace to isolate her pattern from the others aboard the Guild ship."

"Make it so!" Wilson said, trying the expression she had heard Picard use, and liking the way it sounded.

"Aye, Captain," S'dar replied, accessing transporter records from his Ops console, and setting up the appropriate sensor configuration.

Wilson turned her attention back to Commander Data.  "Does S'dar's suggestion meet with your approval, Commander?" she asked.

"Yes, Captain Wilson.  However, there is still the matter of the Gaia's shields," Data said.  "Transporting through them might be difficult, if not impossible."

"I do not believe Commander Data's assessment is correct, Captain," S'dar spoke up.  "Our analysis of the Romulan records would seem to indicate that the shields used on the Guild vessel change density at a rate proportional to the energy being directed against them.  It is unlikely that the shields will respond to the low-energy signature of a transporter beam."

"Data?" Wilson queried.

The android tilted his head in a gesture Wilson had come to recognize as indicating that he was processing information.  "On reflection, I believe S'dar's supposition to be correct, Captain.  Transport will be possible."

"Very well, Commander," Wilson concluded.  "Carry on. 	Excalibur out!

"Data out!" the android replied, cutting off the transmission.

***
Chapter Thirteen

McFadden disconnected his surveillance device from the communications interface in the jeffries tube, where he had been hiding since he beamed onto the Excalibur, and smiled to himself.  He always found it quite astounding the confidence that most Starf leet personnel had in the security of their on board communications.  Although the system was designed to detect the type of device that McFadden was using, they always failed to appreciate the resources available to Starfleet Intelligence officers.  Circumventing such rudimentary security precautions was child's play for a man with his training.  Technology was a wonderful thing, but the Intelligence Directorate of Starfleet Command had developed methods of abrogating every single measure available to a starship's security personnel.  And the technology used by field operatives was light-years ahead of anything in fleet use.

The conversation between Captain Wilson and the android had been quite enlightening, McFadden thought. He now knew that he could get aboard the Guild ship by using a site-to-site transporter, and Wilson herself was going to conveniently get him to within transport range.

It was laughably easy to get the Romulan Commander, Srelal, to believe that his objective was to steal the Guild scout-craft.  A disappointment that one... he would have thought the Empire would send someone more competent.  But it had all worked to his advantage. Now he was within striking range! The mission was progressing exactly as he had envisioned it would.

Even Troi was fooled by the false mission profile that had been implanted in his sub-conscious at Starbase 173.  By one of her own people, no less!  The Intelligence Directorate made use of many different species, Betazoids among them.  Didn't she realize that he would have had to be prepared for her mind tricks? Another disappointment, he thought sadly, worthy opponents were becoming exceedingly rare.  The game def inately wasn't what it used to be!

****

"Message from the Hood, Captain," Worf said. "Tagged confidential, DeSoto to Picard."

"I'll take it in my ready room, Lieutenant," Picard replied, his voice taking on a crisp edge. "You have the bridge, Number One."

"Aye, Sir," Riker acknowledged.

Picard got up from the command chair and walked into his office.  He settled himself behind the desk, taking a second to gather his thoughts, before activating the terminal.   DeSoto's face appeared on the monitor immediately, his expression grim.

"Bad news, Robert?" Picard asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer by the look on his friend's face.

"You were right, Jean-Luc," DeSoto began.  "Turner's brought the whole fleet to action statons up and down the Neutral Zone.  He's disguised it as a fleet readiness exercise."

"Damn!"

"That isn't the half of it I'm afraid.  He's briefing the Federation Council as we speak, effectively pre-empting our option of doing an end run around him, and talking to the Council ourselves."

"How many ships?" Picard asked, his hopes sinking.

"Thirty-six," DeSoto answered.  "Nearly everything Starfleet has in this quadrant."  The Hood's Captain glanced at a padd on the desk in front of him. "Twenty-three combat vessels, the rest support ships."

"Strategic suicide!" Picard exclaimed bitterly. "The Romulans have twice that number of heavy cruisers in this sector alone!"

"Like I told you, Jean-Luc, we're dealing with a man who has never held a field command."

"Suggestions?"

DeSoto rewarded Picard with one of his well-remembered, laconic smiles.  "It's no coincidence that Starfleet's two senior Captains are out here in the boonies, Jean-Luc.  Turner's afraid of our influence over the rest of the Command Staff."

Picard saw immediately what DeSoto was getting at, Between the two of them, they might still convince the Captains of the alerted vessels to stand down. If that didn't work, they would have no choice but to follow through on Picard's threat to inform the Romulan High Command of the impending attack.  Picard knew that if he were forced to exercise that option, many innocent Starfleet personnel could die, not to mention the casualties which would be inflicted on the Imperial Fleet.  What's more, he wasn't sure DeSoto would support his taking such a drastic measure.

"We'll divide the combat vessels up, and contact each of them individually, then let them make their own decision regarding Turner's actions.We have to stop this from happening, Robert," Picard continued forcefully, hoping his friend would accept his rationale, and back his decision to stop the conflict, one way or another!

There was the briefest hesitation on the part of the other Captain, before he replied.  "We're treading a fine line here, Jean-Luc.  I agree that Turner must be stopped, but if the other Captain's don't follow our lead, I'm not sure that there's anything more we can do without committing an act of treason against the Federation."

The statement hung between them like a dark cloud, redefining a friendship that had lasted over thirty years.  DeSoto was making it quite clear that there were some lines he refused to cross, even to prevent a war.  So be it, Picard thought with regret.  I must do what I think is best, even at the expense of my oldest friend.  "Each of us must follow his conscience, Robert.  Mine will not allow me to stand aside while one man's ambition plunges the Federation into war!"

"No," Desoto replied.  "I suppose not."

Knowing Robert DeSoto as well as he did, this last statement surprised Picard. It was not the type of remark that was typical of him.  DeSoto was a complex man, but ambivalence was not in his nature.  "Aside from the obvious, what else is bothering you, old friend?" Picard asked gently.

DeSoto's expression turned to one of resolve, as if he had been hesitant to bring up a painful subject, but finally decided that he must.  "Do you remember our first tour together, Jean-Luc... the Potemkin?"

Picard smiled hesitantly, not sure where this was leading.  "Of course.  As I recall, we hated each other."

DeSoto returned Picard's smile.  "Yes, it wasn't a very auspicious beginning to our friendship," he agreed.  "Do you remember who served as First Officer aboard the Potemkin?" he asked, obviously leading up to something.

Picard frowned, suppressing with difficulty a very painful memory of that first deep-space tour. "Where are you going with this, Robert?" he asked, his voice flat, totally devoid of inflection.

"Centurion Saalesh bears a striking resemblance to Saavik, Jean-Luc.  I'm not sure if you're even consciously aware of it, but I think it might be influencing your thinking."

Picard felt a queasy sensation beginning to build in the pit of his stomach.  The sense that Saalesh
was familiar in some way, suddenly coalesced into the memory of a beautiful Vulcan woman.  He compared the two of them in his mind, and was shaken by the truth of Desoto's observation.

Saavik, a name from his past that he had not heard in over fifteen years.  A memory buried so deep in the recesses of his mind, that in all that time, he had not thought of her once.  Considering the debt that he owed her, that was the most painful part of the recollection, that he had forgotten her so easily.

It was Saavik, the Vulcan First Officer of the Potemkin, who had refused to file charges against
Jean-Luc Picard, after the stupid incident on Starbase Erhart.  If not for her intervention, it was
quite possible that Picard would have been courtmartialed, and thrown out of Starfleet, before his career had ever really begun. 

Saavik... cool as ice, and oh so exotic to a fresh faced Ensign, straight out of Starfleet Academy. Saavik... an officer who had been lost fifteen years before, while commanding a science vessel doing routine survey work along the Neutral Zone. Saavik... the woman who was the wife of Ambassador Spock, of Vulcan!

Seeing the look on Picard's face, DeSoto's expression softened.  "I thought as much," he observed quietly. "You never made the connection, did you?"

His thoughts and emotions were so jumbled, that Picard found it difficult to speak.  Finally, he managed to offer a reply.  "I knew there was something familiar about her," he began.  "But... no, I didn't think of Saavik.  I haven't thought of Saavik in years."

****

Out of the corner of his eye, Riker noticed the subtle movement of Troi sitting up straighter in her seat. The gesture immediately focused his attention. "What is it, Deanna?"

Troi pursed her lips.  "I'm not sure.  I sense the Captain is very troubled about something."

Riker shrugged.  "Not surprising, considering out situation."

She shook her head.  "No, Will.  It's something else that's bothering him," she said emphatically, rising from her seat, and slowly walking over to the door of the Captain's ready room.

Riker and Commander Srelal shared a look, the Romulan's eyebrows arching expressively, both of them wondering what else could possibly be bothering the Enterprise's Captain, considering the odd  and dangerous situation they all found themselves in.

****

When she entered the Captain's office, Picard was standing by the observation window, gazing out into space.  Troi sensed his melancholy mood, and stood quietly watching him, giving the Captain the opportunity to speak first.  It was obvious to her that he felt the need to talk to someone, but was marshalling his thoughts prior to verbalizing what was on his mind.

"I take it you sensed something was wrong, Counselor," Picard said, without bothering to turn and face her.

Troi sat down in one of the empty chairs arranged in a semi-circle in front of the Captain's desk, before replying.  "I sense your confusion, Captain, and wonder at it's cause?"

Picard left his spot by the window and returned to the seat behind the desk.  He leaned back in his chair, and sighed.  "A ghost, Counselor... nothing but a ghost."

Troi said nothing, silently urging him to continue.

"It was a long time ago," Picard began.  "My first deep-space assignment... aboard the starship Potemkin."

Troi nodded, encouraged that he was starting at the beginning.  Resolving the conflicting emotions that were whirling around inside him by trying to gain some perspective.

"The First Officer of the Potemkin was a Vulcan, named Saavik.  As it happens, she was also the wife of a very famous Federation Ambassador.. Spock, of Vulcan."

Deanna hid her surprise.  She hadn't realized the extent of   the Captain's relationship with that legendary Vulcan family.  As if reading her thoughts, Picard smiled.

"Yes, Counselor, even then my life seemed to be inextricably linked with that of Sarek's son."

The Captain's voice trembled slightly at the mention of Sarek, who had recently died.  The victim of a debilitating disease, which had stripped him of the emotional control he had exercised with such iron will, for most of his two hundred and twenty-three years of life.  Troi knew that Sarek's death had affected the Captain deeply, all the more so, because it had occured in the middle of his secret mission to Romulus, during a somtimes bitter confrontation with Sarek's son, Spock.

"I was at their wedding," Picard continued. "At that time, I was an Ensign, assigned to escort Admiral McCoy to Vulcan for the ceremony.  Later, when I got the Potemkin billet,  McCoy told me that I might find the Potemkin's First Officer somewhat...," and here Picard paused.  "Odd... for a Vulcan."

"Odd, in what way, Captain?" Troi asked, intrigued by the Captain's story.

"Saavik follows her own unique interpretation of logic, was the way the Admiral put it.  At the time, I had no idea what he meant, McCoy was always making cryptic remarks about the people he knew.  But he turned out to be right, and in the three years I spent aboard the Potemkin, I came to admire her greatly." Picard lapsed into silence, lost in his memories of youth, and then picked up the story.  "I was a very cocky young man then, Counselor, not at all like I am today."

It was Troi's turn to smile.  She knew very well that the cockiness that the Captain attributed to his youth was still a large part of his personality, although that side of him was kept under tight control.  Cockiness was a trait that was almost universal among the senior command staff in Starfleet, Troi thought.  Without the attitude that you were capable of doing anything you set your mind to, you could never become Captain of a starship, and Jean-Luc Picard had gotten his first command at the ripe old age of twenty-seven.

"That cockiness got me into trouble during my first shore leave, on Starbase Erhart," Picard said wistfully. "Suffice it to say, I did something extremely stupid, and was rewarded with a knife through my heart."

Troi was familiar with the Captain's medical history of heart replacements.  He was now living with his second replacement organ, an operation which had been done by the Enterprise's former Chief Medical Officer, Katherine Pulaski.

"The lack of judgement which caused that incident, could have led to my dismissal from Starfleet," the Captain continued.  "It was Commander Saavik who intervened on my behalf, and prevented my being court-martialed.  So, as you can see," he said quietly. "I owe her a great deal."

Troi was confused.  "Why are you thinking about this now, Captain?" she asked.  "That incident happened over thirty years ago."

Picard got up, and began to pace.  "Captain DeSoto has accused me of being unduly influenced by the Romulan officers I've brought aboard the Enterprise. One Romulan officer, in particular!" he concluded, obviously exasperated by his friend's critique of his judgement.

"Which one?" Troi asked, still confused.

The Captain stopped pacing, and turned to face her.  "Centurion Saalesh," he answered, and then seeing the Counselor's puzzled look, continued. "Saalesh bears an uncanny resemblance to Saavik," he explained.  "I didn't see it, until Robert pointed it out, but she looks very much like her."

"And Captain DeSoto thinks that this is influencing the way you've treated her, assigning her to duties, and so on?"

"That is correct," Picard replied.

"Is it?  Influencing you I mean?"

Picard grimaced.  "Frankly, Counselor, I can't say with any certainty one way or the other."

"I see.  Its possible then that Captain DeSoto has raised a valid point."

"Possible... yes," he admitted.

"I sense that there is more to it than that, Captain," Troi suggested.  "More than just a young officer's admiration for a superior. What about Saavik?" Troi asked, zeroing in on the thing which was causing Picard's emotional confusion.  

Picard sighed.  "There is another aspect to my relationship with Saavik, Counselor.  I believe that I was indirectly responsible for her disappearance.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're getting at."

Picard became introspective, contemplating his memories.  "Sixteen years ago," he began. "The Stargazer was assigned a classified mission to penetrate the Romulan Neutral Zone.  Intelligence reports indicated  the presence of a forward staging area for the Imperial Fleet.  We were sent to investigate."

"Only one ship?  Doesn't Starfleet usually send unmanned probes to do that kind of reconnaisance?"

"Usually, yes," Picard replied.  "But the higher-ups at Starfleet Command deemed the mission of sufficient importance to risk a single ship."  Picard smiled.  "Unlike the Enterprise, the Stargazer was not a state-of-the-art vessel, Counselor.  And at that time, I was not a senior Captain.
To put it bluntly, we were expendable, and so in we went."

Troi nodded in understanding.  "Go on, Captain."

"Suffice it to say, we didn't find anything. The intelligence was bogus, probably bought from some freebooter with more imagination than scruples. Unfortunately," Picard continued.  "On the way
out, we were detected, in a manner of speaking.  We ran into a single Romulan scout-type vessel, with one crewman aboard.  We had no choice but to capture him."

"And?" Troi prompted.

"Are you familiar with the clan markings that Romulans are branded with as children, Counselor?" Picard asked.

This apparent digression from his narrative surprised Troi, but the question was asked with such intensity, that she assumed the Captain had an important point to make.  "No, Captain.  I was unaware that Romulans advertised their clan affiliations."

"Advertise is not exactly the right word, Counselor.  In fact," he continued, "it is exactly the wrong word! The brands that all Romulans carry from childhood are not supposed to be seen at all, except by other members of their own clan."

"You mean they are located on a part of the body usually covered by their clothing."

"That is correct!  However, during our interrogation of the Romulan officer we captured, Pug, that was my Security Officer on the Stargazer, noticed the brand on the Romulan's arm and called my attention to it.  To my surprise, I had seen this particular brand before, on the shoulder of Commander Saavik!"

This statement raised another question entirely in Troi's mind, but she decided, for the moment at least, not to asked it.  Instead, she stated the more obvious one, "Saavik was a Romulan?"

"Half Romulan," Picard replied.  "The product of a rape, perpetrated on a Vulcan by a Romulan captor."  Picard's eyes took on a troubled look. "She told me this after I had contacted her regarding the disposition of our prisoner."

"Considering the Vulcan need for privacy, it must have been very hard for her to confide in you," Troi said.  "She also must have trusted you very much to divulge so much about her past," she added.

Picard nodded in agreement.  "Yes.  Up until that time, I had no idea what a truly brutal childhood Saavik had experienced.  Her first ten years of life were spent on a Romulan prison planet."

Picard involuntarily shuddered as he remembered Saavik telling him the story of Hellguard, and how she had been saved from almost certain death by a Vulcan rescue team.  One of the members of that team was Spock, another was Sarek.  Saavik had conveyed some of the awe a savage child had felt in the presence of those quiet men from Vulcan, and also the circumstances of her and Spock's first meeting.  A meeting which would not only lead to her rescue, but to her finding a friend and teacher, a mentor, and ultimately, a mate!

"Saavik was very interested in our prisoner," Picard continued, "and I learned later that she had interviewed him extensively at the Starbase where we left him.  Six months later, She asked for, and was granted, a demotion in rank to take command of the survey ship Congo   The Congo disappeared with all hands, while on a mission along the Neutral Zone, three months after she took command."

Troi felt the Captain's pain as he end of the story, and her eyes welled with sudden tears that ran down her cheeks.  "Why would an Admiral ask for a demotion, to take command of a survey vessel, Captain?"

"I  asked myself that very question at the time, Counselor.  I don't know, and the only man who might be able to answer that mystery for us, is Spock.  Who, as you know, is not available."

Troi considered what the Captain had told her for a moment before offering a hypothesis.  "Could Centurion Saalesh be related to Saavik?"

"That was my thought too, Counselor.  But I don't see how we can find out until Saalesh returns, and I can put the question to her directly."

"S'dar might know.  You told me that he and Saalesh shared the mind-meld, surely that type of information would be exchanged during the meld?"

"Yes, and he implied to me that Saalesh is not quite who she appears to be, but S'dar is Vulcan, Deanna.  He will not violate Saalesh's privacy.  Nor would I ask him to."

Before Troi could say anything else, their conversation was interrupted by Lieutenant Worf.  

"Worf to Captain Picard!"

"Go ahead, Lieutenant!"

****

"Move us in closer, Ensign," Wilson ordered. "Maintain station at forty-thousand kilometers."

"Aye, Sir!" the helm officer acknowledged.

Wilson watched helplessly as the scout-craft/interceptor with Data, LaForge, and Saalesh on board, was drawn into the larger Guild vessel.  What now? she asked herself.  "Mr. Ursul, inform the Enterprise of our current status, and try to open a channel to Mr. Data."

"Aye, Captain."  The Excalibur's Tactical Officer bent over his control board to comply with Wilson's orders, sending the message to the Enterprise, and opening the communications channel to Commander Data's combadge.  "Channel open!"

"Data, this is Captain Wilson." 

"Data here!" 

''What's your situation, Commander?"

"Our vessel has been brought into a large hanger area which is approximately one-hundred meters in diameter, and seems to encompass the entire vertical axis of the Guild ship from top to bottom. There are thirty-three umbilical support stations visible, one of which we are manuevering toward at this moment.  There are presently twenty-two vessels, similar in size and configuration to the one we are aboard, attached to these umbilical supports."

Where are the ships that normally occupy the other eleven stations,Wilson wondered?  Her instincts told her that she should beam Data's team out of there this instant, but she knew that if she followed that course of action, they would never get to the bottom of this enigma.  "Any crew visible, Data?"

"Negative, Captain," the android replied.

Wilson tried to visualize the interior of the Guild ship in her mind's eye, without much success.
There were simply too many gaps, too many variables, to accurately predict what the interior of the Guild ship looked like based on Data's brief description. They would need a great deal more information before they could attempt a rescue of the Federation personnel, should that become necessary.  "I want you to keep this channel open, Mr. Data.  We're maintaining a continuous lock on your transporter signal, but in the event we have to get you out quickly, it may be necessary to widen the beam to bring all three of you back at once.  I'd like to make sure we don't bring any nasty surprises back with you!"

"Understood, Captain."

"Very well.  Excalibur out!"

Wilson spun her chair around to face the Tactical Station behind her.  "Any problems keeping the channel open, Mr. Ursal?" she asked.

"No, Sir.  So far, there is no sign that our communications signal has been detected, and no attempt made to jam it."

"Very good.  Let's keep it that way, shall we!"

"Yes, Sir!"

She addressed her next question to S'dar.  "Any sign of more Romulan ships, S'dar?"

"No, Captain.  The warbird Ko'Leur is maintaining its position, two hundred kilometers off the starboard beam of the Enterprise.  The Gaia is still undetectable to our sensors," he added.  "Quite fascinating."

Shit!  We're only forty thousand kilometers from them, Wilson thought.  How the hell can they sit there, in plain sight, without being picked up on sensors?  Fascinating to you maybe, S'dar, but damned frustrating to me!"

The Vulcan did not bother to offer a comment in reply.

****

There was an audible clanking sound, as the scout-craft made contact with the umbilical support structure. Data surmised that it was the sound of mechanical latches slamming shut, and this was confirmed when he noticed that three lights on the top of the Command Console had just changed colour, from red to green.  "Docking complete," he stated for the benefit of those listening on the Excalibur.

One by one, systems began shutting down.  Finally, only Saalesh's position was still active, a steady stream of telemetry scrolling across the screen of the Flight Dynamics Terminal.  Saalesh kept up a running commentary of the ship's systems going off line.  "Propulsion and weapons grid deactivated, external sensors off line, navigation off line, communications off line, external gravity and life-support established.  All power is now coming from the Gaia."

"Understood, Centurion," Data acknowledged.

Finally,even the Flight Dynamics Terminal itself went into stand-by mode.  They could no longer see outside the spacecraft, and the three of them had no idea what to expect next.  Geordi and Saalesh both looked to Data for instructions.

The android sat calmly, waiting for whatever was to happen, to happen.  When the hatch hissed open he withdrew his hand phaser from it's holster and in his typically composed tone of voice ordered, "Phasers on stun."  Data then re-holstered the phaser, and after complying with his order, LaForge did the same.  Saalesh was unarmed, not having been issued a phaser.

Data took one last look around the spacecraft, still impressed with the elegance of the engineering which went into it's design.  He sincerely hoped that he would have another opportunity to fly the Guild ship.  "I will exit first," he said.  "Centurion, you will follow me, and Geordi will bring up the rear."

"Let's get on with it, Data," LaForge replied, trying to keep his nervousness in check.

Data nodded, stepped over to the hatch, and disappeared through it.  Saalesh rose from her seat, and serenely followed him.  LaForge checked his phaser one last time, taking a deep breath to steel himself for whatever was to come next, and followed the Romulan through the hatch.

The three officers found themselves in a dimly lit corrider approximately twenty meters long, at the end of which was an open airlock.

"Curious," Data murmured. "I would have expected an escort."

"No kidding!" LaForge exclaimed. "This is weird, Data.  Where's the crew?"

"Unknown," Data replied.

"Perhaps the crew is otherwise engaged," Saalesh suggested.  "This vessel might have been heavily damaged. I don't think the dim lighting is intentional, Commander."

"A valid hypothesis, Centurion.  It is possible that the Gaia has suffered severe damage as a result of the  combat with the Romulan Fleet," Data agreed.  "That could be the reason they did not respond to the Excalibur's attempt to hail them."

"Let's keep going, Data.  We're bound to run into somebody sooner or later."

Data nodded in the affirmative to LaForge's suggestion, and took the lead as they made their way down the corridor.  They reached the airlock without incident, and found themselves in another corridor which curved away to the left and right.

"Which way, Data?" LaForge asked.

"I suspect that this corridor runs the circumference of the hanger bay, in which case, either direction is equally likely to bring us to an access way to the next deck.  We will go left."

"Lead on, Data."

They walked as quietly as possible down the deserted corridor, not wishing to blunder into a trap, and hoping that they would hear someone coming before they themselves were detected.  Saalesh was becoming increasingly aware of a strange sensation, and the further they walked, the stronger this sensation became.  The Guild ship seemed familiar to her, as if she had been there before, but of course she knew that was impossible.  Nonetheless, this feeling of familiarity continued to grow in intensity until finally, she could no longer keep it to herself.

"Commander Data?" 

Data stopped.  "Yes, Centurion?"

"I think there is a lift on the right side of the corridor, approximately fifteen meters in front of us."

"How do you know that, Saalesh?" LaForge asked suspiciously.

Saalesh hesitated for a fraction of an instant, not quite sure how to respond.  "I don't know, Geordi.  I just have this feeling that I can't explain."

Data did not doubt that the Centurion would be proved correct.  All of the Vulcanoid species that he had encountered during his career exhibited varying degrees of telepathic ability, and this
ability occasionally manifested itself in a kind of super-awareness of their surroundings.  Therefore, the fact that the Centurion seemed to know that there was a turbo-lift fifteen meters in front of them did not come as a complete surprise.  However, from her tone of voice, and body language, Data was able to deduce that there was more to Saalesh's 'feeling' than a simple telepathic impression. "You seem troubled by something, Centurion," he observed.  "Do you sense we are in danger?"

Saalesh shook her head negatively.  "No, Commander. It's not that I sense any danger, but this vessel is familiar to me, almost as if I have been here before."

"It would seem that you are experiencing what humans refer to as déjà vu, Centurion.  Among that species, it is a fairly common occurence, although I have never heard of Vulcanoids experiencing the phenomenon."

Saalesh wondered if that might be the explanation, that her close association with humans over the past few days was causing her human blood to come boiling to the surface, affecting the way she perceived her environment.  No, she thought.  In this instance at least, she was sure there was another explanation, although what that explanation could be continued to elude her.

Data pondered the implications of Saalesh's apparent case of déjà vu, as the three of them continued walking toward the point where the Romulan believed they would find a turbo-lift.  Up until the moment she had put into words what she was 'feeling', Data would have considered it impossible for a Vulcan or Romulan to experience what Saalesh described.  The Centurion was proving to be a fascinating companion... Data's train of thought was interrupted by LaForge's exclamation of surprise.  

"There it is!"

Sure enough, there was an intersecting passage on the right side of the corridor, exactly where Saalesh had predicted they would find the Guild's version of a turbo-lift.  They approached the entrance to the intersection cautiously, not wishing to be surprised by a member of the Gaia's crew, although Data was positive that whoever was in control of the Guild vessel knew exactly where they were, having been the ones who brought them aboard in the first place.

Stepping into the entranceway, after having determined that it was clear, Data immediately noted the predicted lift on the right side of the entrance.  The passage continued on for about ten meters before it led into what appeared to be another corridor similar to the one they had just left.  The Guild vessel was obviously laid out as a series of concentric rings, Data thought.  An extremely utilitarian design, but very sound from a structural point of view. The saucer section of the Enterprise was laid out in much the same way.

"Well, Data?" LaForge queried.  "What now?"

"I suspect that whoever has gone to the trouble of bringing us aboard this vessel, Geordi, will at some point make his presence known to us.  Until he does, I propose that we continue with our explorations."

LaForge eyed the lift speculatively.  "I guess that means we're going to step into this thing and see where it takes us."

"That would be an accurate assumption," Data replied.

****

Every member of the Excalibur's bridge crew, with the possible exception of S'dar, was listening intently to the open communications link between Commander Data and the Excalibur.  Wilson had ordered that the signal be put on speaker so that they could all hear what was going on, and the more she heard, the less she liked it.

She found herself wondering again where the Romulan Centurion's real loyalties lay.  Wilson did not believe for an instant that Saalesh was experiencing déjà vu.  As far as she was concerned, the more rational explanation was that the Romulan had been aboard the Guild vessel before, and was concealing that fact, for who knew what reason.  "Mr. Ursal, try hailing the Gaia again," she ordered.

"Aye, Captain," Ursal acknowledged, manipulating the appropriate controls at his station.  "No response, Sir!

Damn! Wilson seethed.  What the hell was going on here?  She was beginning to suspect a Romulan trap!  "Open a secure channel to the Enterprise."

"Channel open!"

"Enterprise, this is Excalibur..."

****

"Enterprise here," Riker answered the hail. "Go ahead Captain Wilson."

"Where's Captain Picard, Commander?"

"The Captain is in conference," Riker replied.  "Can we be of assistance?"

"I'm not sure, Riker.  There's something weird going on with that Guild ship.  So far, Data hasn't found any sign of a crew, and Centurion Saalesh seems to think that she's been aboard it in a previous life!"

"A previous life? Riker asked, his tone of voice incredulous.

"You heard me, Commander!" Wilson said.  "Data is of the opinion she's suffering from the Romulan equivalent of déjà vu, but I think there's more to it than that."

Riker cast a glance in the direction of Commander Srelal to gauge her reaction to this bit of news. The Romulan's only response was an arched eyebrow which Riker knew could mean almost anything.  "Do you have a suggestion, Captain?" he inquired.

"Not really!" Wilson admitted.  "I was hoping Picard would have one."

"What's Data doing now?" Riker asked.

"He's about to board a lift," Wilson replied. "He wishes to continue exploring the Guild ship, but I'm not sure it's such a good idea."

Riker was tempted to agree with Wilson's assessment. He didn't have any idea whether or not Romulans experienced déjà vu, but Saalesh's story certainly sounded odd to him.  He was about to say so, when Picard and Counselor Troi stepped out of the Captain's ready room and back onto the bridge.

"Status, Number One?"

As briefly as possible, Riker filled the Captain in on the latest developments aboard the Gaia and Excalibur.

"Do you have anything to add, Commander Srelal?" Picard asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"The Centurion is not known for her stability, Picard," the Romulan replied.  "I wouldn't be surprised if she were suffering some ill effect from the Vulcan witchcraft you insisted on subjecting her to."

"That doesn't explain her foreknowledge of the layout of the Guild ship, Commander!" Picard said, rather more sharply than he had intended.  "Has she been aboard the Gaia before this?"

Srelal's reply was unequivocal.  "Absolutely not!  If she had, I would certainly not be aboard your ship at this moment, Picard!"

Picard believed her.  If Saalesh had been aboard the Gaia before, he was confident S'dar would have discovered the deception during the mind-meld.  He had not, so Picard was convinced that there had to be some other explanation for the Centurion's apparent familiarity with the layout of the Guild vessel.

"Saalesh is a strong latent telepath," Picard said.  "It is quite likely that she is picking up images of the Guild ship from it's crew," he explained.

"I wish the crew would put in an appearance," Wilson said from the viewscreen.  "I find it very suspicious that they haven't challenged our people."

It was strange, Picard admitted to himself.  "Advise Data to proceed with extreme caution, Captain."

"Understood," Wilson replied.  "Excalibur out!"

Picard turned to Riker.  "Any thoughts, Number One?"

"It doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me, Captain.  Why would they bring them on board, and then let them wander around?"

"Yes," Picard agreed.  "And why haven't they responded to the Excalibur's repeated attempts to hail them?  Very strange indeed!"

****

"Did you receive that last transmission, Mr. Data?"

"Affirmative, Captain," the android acknowledged. "We will proceed with extreme caution."

"Very well.  Excalibur clear!"

Data did not respond, following Wilson's orders to keep the communications channel to the Excalibur open.  Turning to his companions, he said, "I believe we should attempt to make our way to the bridge. Do the two of you concur?"

"Sounds like a plan, Data," Geordi replied with a shrug. Saalesh simply nodded her acquiescence to Data's suggestion.

"Very well, let us continue," Data said, stepping into the lift.  The two other officers followed him.

"...Level?..." a disembodied voice inquired as soon as the door to the lift closed.

Saalesh, standing right next to the speaker, jumped reflexively at the computer generated question.

"Bridge please," Data responded politely to the computer's query.

"Unkown destination..."

"They must have a bridge!" LaForge snorted sarcastically.

Data was at a loss.  He was in total agreement with Geordi's assessment.  There must be a bridge. Otherwise, how could they control such a large vessel?

"Command deck," Saalesh spoke up, unsure of where the idea had come from.

"... Access to the Command Deck is restricted," the computer replied.

"At least we seem to be getting somewhere," LaForge observed caustically.

Data looked to Saalesh for the answer to their dilemma.  Where she was getting her information from, he had no idea, but her unconscious was apparently tuned in to someone or something aboard the Guild ship.  "Any suggestions, Centurion?"

"No, Commander," the Romulan replied uncertainly.

"Concentrate, Centurion," Data urged.

She tried to comply with Data's request, and for some reason the image of a game she used to play
with her mother imposed itself on her consciousness. It was called the 'quiet game'.  Her mother would think of an object, and Saalesh would try to guess what it was.  She remembered being very good at this game, and without any conscious thought on her part, the words 'Science Deck' suddenly bubbled into her mind.  "Science deck," she whispered experimentally, and the lift began to move.

Data looked at Saalesh and nodded, apparently satisfied with this latest development.  Saalesh didn't have a clue what was happening to her, but was glad she had the two Federation officers for company.  The android seemed to take it as a matter of course that she possessed information that they did not, without exhibiting any of the paranoia which she knew would be the first reaction of any Romulan officer finding himself in a similar situation. It reassured her, and she was in need of reassurance.

****

Aboard Excalibur, Wilson was becoming less and less sure she had made the right decision in allowing Data's team to be taken into the Guild ship.  "Transporter room, stand by," she quietly ordered.  At the first sign of trouble, Wilson intended to get them out of there, and damn the consequences!

"Transporter aye!"

Waiting for something to happen was the hardest part, Wilson reflected.  There was too much time to think about all the things she might have done differently.  Perhaps, should have done differently, was a better way to put it.  S'dar's call from Ops did nothing to ease her mind.

"Optical sensors are picking up multiple targets, bearing zero four five mark two eight zero, range eight thousand kilometers, and closing."

"On screen!"

Control of the optical suite was immediately transferred to Lieutenant Ursal's Tactical Station, and the Lieutenant complied with Wilson's order. The image on the main viewscreen shifted from the Guild ship, with Data and his team on board, to the new threat.

Wilson leaned forward in the Captain's chair, trying to glimpse the targets that S'dar's 'sensors told them were there.  One second the screen was filled with stars and the half elipse of the rocky mass below them, and the next, six of the small vessels like the ones aboard Excalibur flashed past them, at the last instant splitting into two groups of three, one group to either side of the Federation starship.  

"Stay with them, Lieutenant!" Wilson warned, her stomach muscles contracting reflexively at the sight of the Guild ships so close to her own.  The starfield on the viewscreen blurred sickeningly as Lieutenant Ursal struggled to comply with Wilson's order, finally stabilizing with a split-screen view of Guild ships, now holding station to either side of Excalibur.  "Range, Mr. Ursal?"

"One thousand meters, Captain.  They're sitting right on top of our shields!"

"Lock on phasers!"

S'dar turned to face her.  "May I remind you, Captain, that the explosive feedback from an inboard phaser strike could severely damage the ship."

"You and I know that, S'dar," Wilson shot back, "But they don't!"

The Vulcan was forced to concede her point.  Logically, it was highly unlikely that the Guildsmen had any idea of the composition of the Excalibur's defensive shield grid.  Therefore, it was quite possible that Wilson's tactic would work, and force the Guild vessels to withdraw.  Unfortunately, if as they suspected, the Guildsmen were humans, a logical reaction to the Captain's bluff could in no way be guaranteed.

S'dar considered pointing out this fact to his Captain, but the reaction of the Guild ships precluded his doing so.  In a move that struck the Vulcan as outrageous, even by human standards, one of the tiny spacecraft opened fire at point blank range, rocking the Federation starship violently.

"Jesus H  Christ!" Wilson cursed, hanging on to the arms of the chair to keep herself from being hurled onto the deck of the bridge.  "Damage report!  All decks!"

***

Chapter Fourteen

"The Excalibur reports it is under attack, Captain!" Lieutenant Worf bellowed from the Tactical Station.

"On screen!" Picard ordered.

"Aye Sir!"

Picard was slightly surprised by the apparent calm with which Captain Wilson reported her situation. There was no trace of the panic he half expected to see on the young Captain's face.  Instead, she succinctly described what had transpired.

"They only hit us once, and only after we locked phasers.  I think they were giving us a warning, nothing more."

Picard tended to agree, but was concerned nonetheless.  If the Guild scout-craft could deliver that kind of fire, what was the larger vessel capable of?  He was finally beginning to appreciate what the Romulan Fleet had been up against.  He turned to Commander Srelal, wondering what her reaction to the attack on Excalibur would be.

Srelal returned the Federation Captain's stare. "Do you still think you will be able to negotiate with these people, Picard?" she asked sarcastically.

Picard chose to ignore the Romulan's jibe, and instead turned his attention back to Wilson.  "How much damage did your ship sustain, Captain?"

"A few people with slight injuries, nothing serious, and no structural damage whatever.  As I said, it was just a warning."

"Where are the Guild ships now, Captain?" Picard asked.

"They are maintaining their position, one thousand meters off our port and starboard."

"Any attempt at communication?"

"Not so far," Wilson replied.  "We've tried to hail them, but they haven't responded."

Picard considered his options carefully.  If the Guild would not respond to Wilson's attempt to communicate, he didn't see any way to open up negotiations between them and the Romulans.  In which case, the whole mission was quickly degenerating into an exercise in futility.  As he saw it, the only chance to salvage the negotiations lay with Data.  "Where is Commander Data now, Captain Wilson?"

The Excalibur's Captain looked over her shoulder at her Tactical Officer.  "Do we still have an open channel, Mr. Ursal?"

"Affirmative, Captain!" Ursal replied.  "The channel is still open."

"Commander Data from Excalibur.  Report!"

"Data here   The lift has just stopped at what we believe to be the Science Deck.  Hopefully, we will be making contact with the Gaia's crew momentarily."

"Did you copy that, Enterprise?" Wilson asked.

"Acknowledge Excalibur, we copy Data's last transmission," Picard replied   He next spoke to the Romulan Commander sitting quietly beside Counselor Troi.  "The Enterprise is going to move to support Excalibur, Commander.  Advise the Ko'Leur to maintain it's position."

"Do you think that wise, Picard?" Srelal asked. "The Ko'Leur could provide additional support if the Guild ship decides to take your starships under fire."

"I'm trying to bring this conflict to an end, not widen it's scope!" Picard snapped, and then in a calmer tone.  "It is my hope that Data will be able to open a dialogue with whoever is in command of the Gaia.  He won't be able to do that if the Guildsmen feel they are under attack by both the Federation and the Romulan Empire!"

"Have you considered the possibility that Commander Data is being sucked into a trap, Picard?  If these people were interested in talking, you've given them plenty of opportunity to do so, and their only response has been to attack one of your ships!"

There was a certain logic to the Romulan's point of view, Picard admitted.  He tried to put himself in the place of the Gaia's commander.  What would I do in his position, he thought.  Unable to determine friend from foe, the Gaia's Captain was in an unenviable position.  I would be looking for more information, Picard concluded, and Data is in a position to supply that information.  The objective would be to try and maintain the status quo until I could determine exactly where each of the players in this situation stood, and that seemed to be exactly what the Guild commander was doing.  "My initial order stands, Commander Srelal.  Advise the Ko'Leur's Captain
to maintain his position."  Picard turned to Lieutenant Worf.  "Lieutenant, open a channel to the Romulan ship."

"Aye, Captain!  Channel open!"

****

When Wilson reported to Picard that the Excalibur had suffered only minor casualties in the Guild 
attack, she fully believed that was indeed the case.  In fact, there was one very serious injury aboard her ship, but because the ship's sensors could not detect Commander McFadden's life-signs monitor, no one was aware of the Intelligence Operative, who was slowly bleeding to death in one of the Excalibur's jeffries tubes.

When the Federation starship was attacked, McFadden was preparing to beam over to the Gaia.  He was taken totally by surprise when the Excalibur's deck suddenly rose up and slammed him in the face, shattering his nose and driving a splinter of bone into the frontal lobe of his brain.  He lost consciousness immediately...

****

The lift door opened, and Data, LaForge and Saalesh found themselves in a large open area that looked as if it were some kind of crew lounge.  There were couches and tables arranged haphazardly around the room, and Data was instantly struck by how much it resembled the Ten-Forward lounge on the Enterprise. The lounge was empty however, and this was a disappointment.

Saalesh was similarly disappointed.  She felt as if she would find answers to some of the confusing images which were assaulting her, if only she could talk to someone from this vessel.  Why she had this feeling was unclear to her.  What the Guild vessel had to do with memories of her mother was a complete mystery to her, but the certainty that she had made a connection between the Gaia and her dead mother could not be denied.  Each step she took deeper into the Guild ship brought her mother's presence closer to the surface of her mind.  If she were fully human, she thought, she might be tempted to believe that ghosts haunted these empty corridors.

Several passages led out of the lounge area, and Data was unsure of how best to proceed.  Obviously, the tactics they had used up until this point had been unsuccessful, they were no closer to meeting a member of the Gala's crew now than they had been down on the hanger deck.  "I am need of your guidance, Geordi," the android stated.  "It would seem that we are getting nowhere, at high velocity."

"Getting nowhere fast, Data," LaForge corrected automatically.

"I believe that is what I said," Data replied quizzically.

"Not quite," LaForge sighed in reply.

From the look on the android's face, Saalesh thought that he might be about to challenge Commander LaForge's assertion, but he let the matter drop, which was rather uncharacteristic for Data she realized.  I don't think of him as a machine at all anymore, he's just another Starfleet officer with a unique personality and surprisingly human idiosyncrasies.  Definitely not what I would have expected from the briefings we were given on him.  According to the Romulan cyberneticists,  Data was supposed to be a walking computer, designed to  undertake missions which were deemed to be too dangerous for his human crewmates. In the time she had spent with them, Saalesh had learned that Data was considered to be no more expendable than any other officer aboard the Enterprise.

It was another example of cultural bias coloring a scientific assessment.  Exactly the kind of thing she despised, and which was the Romulan Empire's greatest flaw.  It would also eventually seal the fate of that Empire, she thought.  A people  which were so absolutely convinced of their own intellectual, and cultural, superiority were bound to fall when confronted with the stupidity of that assumption. For all their so called intellectual superiority, the Romulans were decades, if not centuries, behind the human being who had created Data.  In some respects, Saalesh concluded, Data stood as a monument to everything that was right about the Federation's system of laws and government.  It was illogical to assume an air of superiority when the proof of that fallacy stood before her, in the person of Commander Data. A single individual who, although created artificially, had exactly the same rights as any other individual in Federation society.

"Why don't we just stay here, Data," LaForge suggested.  "Let them come to us.  They must know where  we are."

"I agree with Commander LaForge's assessment," Saalesh said.

"You are right, that would seem to be the next logical course of action," Data acknowledged, and with that statement sat down on one of the couches, as if he didn't have a care in the universe.

Taking his cue from Data, LaForge did the same thing, sprawling out in a chair across from the android.

Saalesh looked uncertainly between the two of them.  Unable to assume the air of casualness that the two Enterprise officers exhibited, but unwilling to make a spectacle of herself by remaining in a standing position, Saalesh carefully seated herself on the other end of the couch occupied by Data.

It wasn't long before their actions had the desired effect.  All three of them turned as they heard the unmistakable sound of the lift they had just exited beginning to move away from them.  A few seconds later, they were rewarded with the sound of the lift returning.

Neither Data, nor LaForge, moved from their seated positions, and so Saalesh mimicked their actions, trying hard to project a confidence that in no way represented her true state of mind.  As the lift stopped, and the door began to open, she found herself holding her breath in expectation.

"We are about to make contact, Excalibur," Data murmured into the open communications link.  "Stand by."

****

"All stop," Picard ordered from the command chair.

"All stop aye!  Helm answers all stop, Sir!" Ensign Rho confirmed.

On the viewscreen, Excalibur was silhouetted in high relief by the dark asteroid below it, as were the six Guild spacecraft which were dwarfed by the Federation starship. "Position?" Picard queried tersely.

"We are twenty-five kilometers astern of Excalibur, z-axis displacement forty-seven degrees," Rho answered.

"Very well," Picard replied.  "Mr. Worf, prepare to engage the Guild scout-craft, but do not lock-on," he cautioned.

"Aye, Captain.  Phasers standing by!" the Klingon replied, his fingers poised over the phaser target-lock initiator.

"Thoughts, Number One?" Picard asked.

"We're in a pretty good overwatch position, Captain," Riker replied.  "From here, we can engage both the scout-type vessels, and the Gaia."

"Your tactical position would be much better if you allowed the Ko'Lleur to move in support," Srelal stated matter-of-factly.

"We've already covered that ground, Commander," Picard said.  "Our intent is to prevent conflict, not force the Gaia's Captain into a confrontation he seems to be trying to avoid."

"I hope you will be able to take comfort in that if we all die here today, Picard," the Romulan replied with just a touch of irony.

The Enterprise's Captain did not respond to the Romulan officer's comment, prefering to ignore for the moment, the fact that she might very well be right.

****

It is an undeniable fact that human blood is an excellent conductor of electricity, and the pool
of blood which was rapidly expanding around the head of Commander McFadden was only millimeters from making contact with an EPS power-tap, which extended from a plasma conduit running along the deck plates of the jeffries tube.  Under ordinary circumstances this wouldn't pose much of problem, the automatic fire suppressors were programmed to take care of just such an eventuallity as a short in an EPS conduit.  Unfortunately, these were not ordinary circumstances!

McFadden had taken the trouble to de-activate the sensors in this particular jeffries tube.  His objective in doing so was to try to further conceal his position, because although his bio-readings were rendered undetectable by the equipment he carried, the jeffries tube was equipped with motion sensors sensitive enough to detect a facial tick.  There wouldn't have been much point to disguising his bio-signature if his movements through the jeffries tube could be detected, and so he had re-routed the sensor system.  Effectively cutting off one section of the jeffries tube from the rest of the Excalibur's sensor grid.

This action prevented the Excalibur's security detail from discovering McFadden's hiding place, but it also prevented the bio-sensors from detecting his injuries. The end result was his present predicament, which mercifully, he himself was unaware of.  His blood loss was quickly reaching a critical point, and even if he had been found in time, it was doubtful that he could have been saved.  When the pool of blood around his head finally did make contact with the EPS power-tap, nothing in the universe could prevent the all too predictable result.

Upon contact, the iron in McFadden's blood was instantly converted into plasma, which in turn consumed his body in a shortlived, but spectacular, conflagration. Although the entire incident lasted less than a milli-second, for that length of time hot plasma was bombarding both sides of the conduit.  The conduit itself was designed to contain  the extremely high temperatures inherent in electro-plasma feed devices, however, it was never designed to withstand being immersed in a plasma fire, which was exactly what occured when McFadden's blood made contact with
the EPS power-tap.  The conduit ruptured, flooding that section of the jeffries tube with super-heated plasma.

****

The ship lurched suddenly to port, throwing the helmsman to deck beside his station.  At virtually the same instant, the bridge was plunged into darkness. Two seconds later, the red emergency lights flickered to life, casting a surreal glow onto the faces of the shaken bridge crew.

"Report!  All stations!" Wilson shouted, just as an emergency klaxon erupted, drowning out the sound of her crew's attempt to reply.  "And shut off that damn klaxon!"

S'dar quickly scanned the OPS display, and killed the offending klaxon, noting that it had turned itself on in response to a fire-detection signal. "Sensors report we have fire, jeffries tube twenty-nine A, Section Three, Deck Three, Captain."

''Shit!  That's only two decks below us!  How bad is it S'dar?"

Excalibur continued it's roll to port, but gravity support held, so the only indication from the point of view of the bridge personnel was the perception that the forward viewscreen images were tilting to the right.  S'dar didn't notice the viewsreen motion, but he was able to tell from his OPS monitors what had occured.  "We have lost attitude stabilization, roll dampeners are off line.  Fire suppression system on Deck Three is unable to contain the fire."

"Evacuate Decks Two through Five!" Wilson ordered. "It looks like we've got an uncontrolled plasma fire on Deck Three!  Mr. Ursal, damage control parties to Deck Three, Section Three, full environmental protocols!"

"Aye, Captain!" Ursal acknowledged.

"S'dar, when the evacuation is complete cut off life-support to Decks Two, Three, Four, and Five." Wilson scanned the Ops repeater on the arm of the command chair.  "Re-route plasma feed through conduit twenty-one A, port side.  Get those stabilizers back on line!"

"Aye, Sir," S'dar responded calmly, apparently not thrown in the least by the unexpected emergency.

Wilson cast a brief glance at the viewscreen, noting peripherally that the Excalibur had rolled one-hundred-eighty degrees from it's previous attitude. As she scanned the bridge stations, she realized that someone was missing.  "Where the hell is Commander Davis?"

"Commander Davis was co-ordinating the search for McFadden, Captain," Lieutenant Ursal answered. "His last reported position was... Deck Four, Section Three."

Wilson tapped her combadge.  "'Wilson to Commander Davis!"  No response, not a good sign, she thought.  "Lieutenant, scan for life signs in that section," she ordered quietly.

"Minimal life signs present, Captain," Ursal replied.  "Impossible to tell how many people are down there."

"Send one of the damage control parties to Deck Four, Section Three, have them search for survivors. Wait for their report before cutting life-support to that section, S'dar."

"Aye, Captain," the Vulcan acknowledged.

Satisfied that she had taken the proper course of action, Wilson had no choice but to sit back and let her people do their jobs.  She tried not to think about the men and women who might lose their lives fighting the fire.  The simple fact of the matter was, if those people didn't risk their lives trying to contain the fire, everyone aboard  Excalibur might die.

"Mr. Ursal, advise the Enterprise of our status, and try to re-establish the comm link with Commander Data."

"Aye sir!" the Tactical Officer responded.  "Enterprise is standing by to assist, and wishes to advise you that our abrupt manuver appears to have heavily damaged one of the Guild scout-craft."

Shit!  That's all we needed, Wilson thought. She was torn between an inclination to inform the larger Guild vessel that Excalibur's abrupt change in attitude was unintentional, due to an onboard emergency, and the tactical ramifications of divulging that information to a potential adversary.   "Ask the Enterprise to try and rescue the crew of the scout-craft.  What are the other Guild ships doing, Lieutenant?"

"The other five vessels have moved out to a range of ten kilometers.  The sixth is crushed against our hull, and is rolling with us."

There's nothing we can do for them now, Wilson thought.  Picard will have to handle the rescue. As this went through her mind, she realized that the only way for the Enterprise to rescue the Guild crewmen, was to transport them, and to do that the Excalibur would have to drop her shields, which had been automatically re-established after the temporary loss of power.  When they dropped their shields, the Gaia's other five scout-craft would have the opportunity to blow them to pieces.  The question is, she thought, would they avail themselves of that opportunity?  And could she take that kind of a risk, with the lives of her own crew at stake?

"Plasma feed has successfully been re-routed, Captain," S'dar said.   Main power to the bridge will be back on line in twenty-two seconds."

If the Guild scout-craft had a hull breach, twenty-two seconds might mean the difference between life and death for it's crew, Wilson thought.  She made her decision.  "Mr. Ursal, inform the Enterprise that we are dropping our shields to allow them to transport the Guild crewmen."

"Aye, Captain!"  Ursal's hands flew over the tactical console to comply with Wilson's order. "Enterprise reports it is ready to transport."

"Very well.  Lower shields."

****

"Excalibur has lowered her shields, Captain!"

"Mr. O'Brian, energize!"  Picard knew that Wilson was taking a big risk in dropping her shields. He also knew that the less time her ship was exposed, the happier the young Captain would be, and he sympathized with that sentiment completely.  Not only was Excalibur open to attack from the Guild ships surrounding her, Picard was forced to admit that he didn't completely trust the Captain of the Romulan warbird not to take advantage of such an inviting target.

"Have you got them, Mr. O'Brian?" Riker asked impatiently, accurately reading his Captain's thoughts.

"I can't get a lock, Commander," the Transporter Chief replied, his frustration evident.  "I'm going to try to beam the whole vessel into Shuttle Bay Two.

"Do it quickly, Mr. O'Brian," Picard ordered tersely.

"I've got it, Sir!"

"Mr. Worf, inform the Excalibur that we have the Guild ship aboard."

"Done, Captain!" Worf responded.  "Excalibur has raised her shields!"

"Excellent!"  Picard then contacted sick-bay. "Doctor Crusher, medical emergency in shuttle bay two!"

"I'm on my way, Captain.  Crusher out!"

Picard surveyed the bridge stations, pausing momentarily as his eyes fell on Ensign Rho, who was manning Data's regular position at Ops.  It was disconcerting not to know how Data and the others were faring aboard the Guild vessel, he thought.  So much now hinged on Data's ability to convince whoever was in command of the Gaia that it was in their interests to accept the Federation's offer to mediate between them and the Romulans. If Data could not persuade the Gaia's Commander to negotiate, they would all be in for a rough time.  Seeing as the combatants were almost in Federation territory, Picard didn't see how he could prevent their becoming involved in the battle, which was exactly what he had worked so hard to avoid!  At least the Gaia has not opened fire on us yet, he thought.  That in itself was encouraging. His musings were interrupted by a surprised exclamation from Counselor Troi.

"Captain!"

"What is it, Counselor?" he asked sharply. 

Before Troi could reply, Dr. Crusher contacted him from shuttle bay two. "Crusher to Picard!"

"One moment, Doctor!" Picard said.  "Go ahead, Deanna.  What is it you sense?"

Troi turned to him in obvious amazement.  "I'm getting a very strong telepathic impression from one of the crewmen aboard the Guild scout-craft!"

As Picard tried to absorb the implications of Troi's statement, Doctor Crusher again tried to contact the bridge.  

"Captain," she said very insistently. "You had better get down here!"

"Is there some sort of problem, Doctor?" Picard asked.

"You might say that, Captain," Crusher replied in an ambiguous tone.  "It has to do with one of my patients on the damaged scout-craft," she continued. "He refuses to leave his ship unless he talks to you first."

Picard was irritated by the intrusion.  Considering the situation, it was a damned inconvenient time for him to leave the bridge.  "Couldn't this be handled by Commander Riker, Doctor?" he asked.

"I don't think so, Sir," Crusher replied.

It was rare for Beverly to address him in so formal a manner, Picard thought, getting some inkling of the importance she placed in him making the trip to the shuttle bay.  "Very well, Doctor. I'm on my way.. Number One, you have the bridge."

****

Data, Geordi, and Saalesh, were escorted to the Command Deck of the Guild ship by a male human who, after issuing a cryptic "follow me please", had not said another word to them, and had studiously ignored all further attempts at communication. Data was instantly reminded of Lieutenant Worf, and came to the conclusion that this human probably performed the same function on board the Gaia as Worf did aboard the Enterprise, that of Security Chief.  This hypotheses was confirmed when, upon exiting the lift the man motioned them forward with a clipped gesture, and then took up a parade-rest stance next to the door.  He continued to watch their every move from that position, and Data did not doubt for an instant that he was fully prepared to intervene if they committed some act which he perceived to be a threat to his ship. 

The Command Deck was laid out as a larger version of the scout-craft they had come aboard in.  Instead of the three crew positions on the scout-craft however, there were eight stations located on the Gaia's bridge, five of which were presently occupied. The vessel's Command position was easily identifiable, as it was raised slightly above the others, giving it's occupant an unobstructed view of all the crew stations.  As Data, Geordi, and Saalesh, stepped forward the man seated at the Command Station rotated his chair to face them.

The Gaia's Commander barely glanced at Data, and Geordi, but when his gaze fell upon Saalesh his face took on an expression of shock.  The first words he spoke could not be put into any rational context as far as Data was concerned.  They seemed to make no sense at all.

"My God, there's two of them!"

Saalesh was captivated by the human sitting in the Command chair.  It was as if she knew him. His face, his mannerisms, the timbre of his voice, were all familiar to her.  They eyed each other in silence after the man's initial exclamation. His words made no sense to her either, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they should mean something!

As the Centurion and the Gaia's Captain stared warily at each other, Data took the opportunity to catalogue his own first impressions of the man. He was not overly tall for a human, Data noted. Even though the man was sitting down, Data could see that he would not be much taller than Captain Picard, but like Data's own Captain, this man exuded a sense of authority.  Command presence was how Starfleet's textbooks referred to it, Data thought, and whatever intangible thing that was, this man had it.  It radiated from him.

That was the only resemblance however, between this man, and the Captain of the Enterprise.  The Gaia's Commander wore his hair long, it hung well past his shoulders, and his face was framed by a neatly trimmed, full beard.  Dark red in colour, but liberally streaked with grey.  Data estimated his age at somewhere between forty and fifty years. Younger than Captain Picard, but somewhat older than Commander Riker.  An experienced individual, Data concluded, and an imposing one.

"Permit me to introduce myself, Sir," Data said, in an attempt to open a dialogue with the Commander of the Guild ship.  "I am Lieutenant Commander Data, of the Federation starship Enterprise.  My companions," he continued, indicating Geordi and Saalesh, "Are Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge of the Enterprise, and Centurion Saalesh of the Romulan Imperial warbird Ko'Leur."

The man still could not seem to take his eyes off the young Romulan standing beside Data.  It was puzzling, Data thought.  What did he find so intriguing about Saalesh?  Was it the fact that she was an alien?  And what did he mean by his comment "there are two of them"?

"Romulan..." the man repeated slowly.  You are not a Vulcan, Saalesh?" he asked, not taking his eyes off her. 

The question astounded her!  It was as if he could somehow see into her soul, and expose all the secrets she had hidden there for so long that they had become second nature to her.  How could this human even know of a planet called Vulcan, and how did he know instinctively that she was more Vulcan than Romulan.

As Saalesh returned the stare of the human seated at the Command station, she became absolutely convinced that she could trust this man.  She wasn't sure what it was about this particular human that led her to such a conclusion, but she had never been more sure of anything in her life.  "I am only one-quarter Romulan," she admitted.  "I am half-Vulcan. Therefore, it would be logical to conclude that I am, in fact, a Vulcan."

For the first time since they had stepped onto the Gaia's bridge, it's Captain smiled.  "That explains a great deal, Centurion," he acknowledged cryptically.

The Centurion's admission of Vulcan ancestry, and the Guild Commander's response to that admission, left Data with many more questions than answers. He was left with the distinct impression that the Gaia's Captain knew a great deal about the Centurion's background.  It was as if the two of them shared some unspoken secret, one that he and Geordi were not privy to.  A statistical impossibility, he realized, but what other explanation could there be?

Before Data could voice any of the questions that had occurred to him, the Gaia's Captain introduced himself, and that caused a whole new set of variables to be introduced into his positronic circuits.

"My name is Charles McLaughlin, Commander Data. I am Senior Project Officer of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild.  And this vessel's commander." McLaughlin paused then, looking again toward Saalesh. "And all of our lives have just gotten a lot more complicated!" he stated emphatically.

***
Chapter Fifteen

As Picard exited the turbo-lift across the corridor from Shuttle Bay Two, he was surprised to see four of Lieutenant Worf's security personnel standing with their backs to the shuttle bay hatch.  "What's going on here, Ensign?" he asked the leader of the security team.

"Dr. Crusher's order's, Sir," the man replied. "She told us to stay outside and prevent anyone except yourself from entering the shuttle bay."

"I see," Picard replied, even more curious about the Doctor's motives.  "Very well, carry on," he ordered.

The Ensign nodded in acknowledgement of Picard's order, and stood aside to let him pass.  The shuttle bay hatch hissed open, and Picard strode into the large hanger.  The Guild scout-craft was being kept off the deck by a tractor-beam, he noted, and as he got closer to the ship he could see why.  Three of it's landing gear struts were hanging at an odd angle, making it obvious that the small craft could not support it's own weight in the full gravity of the shuttle bay.  Picard noticed that one of Dr. Crusher's trauma teams was at work over a stretcher in one corner of the bay, and as he watched they and their patient disappeared in a transporter beam.

As he made his way closer to the Guild ship, one part of his mind continued to catalogue the damage to the small vessel.  It's hull was crumpled badly along the top and one side, and there was a large tear in the exterior hull through which liquid nitrogen was boiling.  The nitrogen was being vacumned up by a narrow containment field before it could spill onto the deck of the Enterprise. Considering the difference in mass between Excalibur and the scout-craft, Picard thought, and taking into account the rapidity of the collision, the smaller ship had come out of the incident in remarkable shape!  If the same thing had happened to one of their own shuttles, he doubted that there would have been anything left to beam aboard.  Quite phenomenal engineering really, particularly for the twenty-first century!

He did a complete circuit of the Guild ship, before approaching the open hatch and stepping inside. The interior of the vessel was a complete shambles, permeated by the sharp smell of burnt circuitry, and the equally strong odor of discharged fire suppression equipment.  There was broken glass littering the deck which crunched under his shoes as he swung himself into the ship.  The only light cast was coming from Dr. Crusher's emergency lamp at the Flight Dynamics Station.

Picard slowly made his way over to her through the debris, detouring around a dislodged control console with some difficulty, and almost losing his footing as he slipped in a pool of viscous liquid. On some peripheral level he noted that the liquid had a greenish tinge, but thought nothing more of it, until he got a look at Dr. Crusher's patient.

The officer manning the Flight Dynamics Station was a Vulcanoid male, and Picard belatedly realized that the liquid sticking to the bottom of his boots was the man's blood!

Dr. Crusher wasted no time when she saw the Captain standing there.  "Get over here and keep putting pressure on the artery, Jean-Luc!" she ordered. "If I don't get some of these wounds closed he'll bleed to death!"

Picard didn't hesitate in complying with her order.  Dr. Crusher was an acknowledged expert where Vulcanoid physiology was concerned, and he didn't doubt for a moment the accuracy of her diagnosis. As he bent down to take hold of the man's leg, replacing the Doctor's hands with his own, bright green arterial blood fountained out of the wound.  Picard could feel the torn muscles beneath the officer's uniform, and although he must have been in a considerable amount of pain, the man made no sound.

Crusher worked silently, using a lazer-scalpel in cauterizing mode to close several open wounds on the man's arms and torso.  Luckily, none of these wounds were life threatening, or the man would have already expired before Picard's arrival, but there were enough of them to create a serious blood loss, and Crusher had been unable to attend to them because of the necessity of keeping the leg wound under control.

Finishing the last of her work on the upper body, Crusher proceeded to the major wound on the man's thigh, giving Picard his first chance to look at the man's face.  What he saw was so unbelievable that at first, his mind refused to acknowledge what his eyes were telling him.  It's impossible; he told himself, absolutely  impossible!

Picard found himself looking into the face of a Vulcan male, about forty-five years of age.  It was a face Picard knew well, but the man it belonged to was a hundred-forty-seven years of age, not the comparatively young Vulcan who sat before him.  What the hell was happening here, he thought, looking into the eyes of a man he knew almost as well as he knew himself, but seeing no spark of recognition reflected there!

****

The fire was contained to Decks Three and Four, but the damage control parties had been unable to bring it under control.     Wilson was facing the prospect of losing her first command, and she wasn't a happy woman.  In addition to the possibility of having to abandon ship, she had just received word from sick-bay that Commander Davis and his security team had been caught in the explosion.  Apparently, they had been directly below the fire when it broke out, and most of them had been crushed by a pressure bulkhead that had ruptured in the intense heat of the plasma fire.  Davis was alive, but just barely, and the CMO was not overly optimistic about his chances of surviving the next hour.  Unless they could get him to a Starbase regeneration facility, in all likelihood her First Officer would die.

Wilson was debating with herself whether or not to order the transfer of non-essential personnel over to the Enterprise.  If she did, it would make an emergency evacuation that much simpler, and with only a skeleton crew on board they could stay with Excalibur until it was absolutely certain that the ship could not be saved.  On the other hand, the transfer of between four and five hundred people would necessitate dropping the shields on both Excalibur, and the Enterprise, for a considerable period of time, leaving the two starships open to attack.  It was a bad situation either way, she thought.  Whatever she ultimately decided to do would be inherently dangerous.
She had almost reached a decision when her train of thought was interrupted by S'dar.

"Captain?"

"What is it, S'dar?"

"I believe that I have found a way to extinguish the fire."

"Don't keep me in suspense, S'dar," Wilson shot back. "Spit it out!"

The image that the Captain's last comment brought to mind was not a pleasant one, S'dar reflected. He abhorred the human custom of using colourful language to illustrate a point.  Nevertheless, he understood her motivation.  Time was a critical factor, and so he chose to ignore her all too typical violation of his Vulcan sense of decorum.  
"By flooding Decks Three and Four with phaser coolant, we can effectively lower the temperature of the uncontained plasma which is still feeding the fire," he began. "Once the temperature of the plasma fuel has been lowered sufficiently, I propose that those two decks be over-pressurized with inert gas to a density of three atmospheres.  This falls within the theoretical structural tolerances of the main space-frame."

"Theoretically," Wilson agreed, without much enthusiasm.

"The over-pressurization should further contain the fire," S'dar continued.  "Once that has been accomplished, blowing the emergency hatches on Decks Three and Four simultaneously, will explosively decompress the area where the fire is contained, and should extinguish it," the Vulcan concluded.

"What about the concurrent stress on the bulkheads of Decks Two and Five?" Wilson asked.  "The rapid decompression could buckle the space-frame on the adjoining decks."

"A distinct possibility," S'dar admitted.  "But the adjoining decks could be de-pressurized before hand, to minimize the risk."

A novel approach to fighting fires on a starship, Wilson thought, but it might work.  "Has this ever
been tried before, S'dar?" she asked apprehensively.

"Not to my knowledge, Captain," the Vulcan replied.

"I thought as much," Wilson sighed.  "It looks like we don't have too many options left, I'm'willing to give it a try.  Proceed with your plan, Sdar."

S'dar did not acknowledge the order.  Instead, he bent over his console to begin the slow depressurization of Decks Two and Five, in preparation for the more risky elements of the plan.

"Mr. Ursal," Wilson said.  "Advise the damage control parties to withdraw.  Once they're clear, we'll begin flooding the affected decks with phaser coolant."

"Aye, Sir," Ursal acknowledged.

"And open a secure channel to the Enterprise.  We might as well give them the opportunity to get clear, in case we blow ourselves to pieces while executing S'dar's brilliantly thought out plan," she continued, her voice tinged with just a trace of amusement.

"Aye, Sir," Ursal replied warily, not seeing anything terribly funny in their present predicament.

****

"You're going to do what!" Riker exclaimed.

"You heard me, Commander," Wilson replied.  "Inform Captain Picard of our decision.  Excalibur out!"

As the viewscreen switched from the Excalibur's bridge, to an external view of the stricken ship, Riker shook his head in amazement.  Wilson's plan for putting out the fire aboard her ship was either the dumbest thing he had ever heard, or positively inspired, he didn't know which, and he supposed the only way they were going to find out was to watch her implement the procedure she had outlined. It should make for a spectacular display, if nothing else, he thought.  "Riker to Picard!"

"Yes, Number One."

"Captain Wilson has come up with a plan to put out the fire on board Excalibur, Captain," Riker said.  "She wanted me to fill you in on the details as soon as possible."

"Understood, Commander," Picard replied.  "I will be returning to the bridge shortly.  It can wait until then.  Picard out!"

Riker was about to say something else when the Captain suddenly closed the comm channel.  That's strange, he thought, wondering what had caused the Captain's abrupt tone.  He glanced over at Troi, but she shook her head, as if she had caught the strain in the Captain's voice, but indicating that she was unsure what it was all about.

A few minutes later, they heard the voice of Dr. Crusher come over the ship-wide address system. "This is Dr. Crusher to all crew, be advised that full medical isolation protocols are now in effect in sick-bay.  Any crew member needing medical treatment will report to the secondary medical facility on deck twelve.  These precautionary measures will remain in effect until further notice."

The mystery deepens, Riker thought.  Obviously it must have something to do with the damaged scout-craft, and it's crew, but what?  Are they carrying a virus that poses a threat to the rest of us?

Counselor Troi was equally mystified by Beverly's announcement.  It was very rare for access to sick-bay to be restricted.  She reached out with her mind, seeking the strong telepathic imprint she had detected coming from one of the crew of the damaged Guild ship, but she could no longer separate that image from the emotional noise generated by the other people on board the Enterprise.  Her insight was often limited by her inability to filter out the emotional projections of over a thousand people, and Troi had learned to live within  those limitations, but there was something different happening here, she realized.  It was as if there were a hole where the mental signature of the Guild crewman should be.  He's intentionally shielding himself, she thought, but why?

Having failed in her endeavor to read the emotional state of the rescued crewman on the Guild scout-craft, Troi made another attempt to make contact with the presence she felt emanating from the Gaia. This time she was successful, and she could feel her nerve ends begin to tingle in a kind of sympathetic vibration with the consciousness of the man she sought.  It was a thrilling, but at the same time frightening, experience for her.  How could she and this man she had never met be so psychologically compatible?  In her mind's eye, she could now visualize his face in detail, and was surprised by how much he reminded her of her father  both physically and emotionally.  We are meant to be together, you and I, she thought down the mental thread, unsure of whether or not the man was consciously aware of the tenuous link between them.  The power of his emotional response came as a shock, and she let out an involuntary gasp, her empathic senses reciprocating the strength of his projection.

Both Riker, and Commander Srelal, heard Troi's sharp intake of breath, and both turned in her direction.

"What is it, Deanna?" Riker asked sharply, concerned that she might be perceiving an immediate threat to the Enterprise or one of the other Federation starships.

Commander Srelal was also concerned.  Afraid that the Captain of the Ko'Leur would not be able to resist the temptation to destroy the Excalibur while the Federation ship was vulnerable, she thought that Counselor Troi might be sensing his intentions. It would be a typical blunder for the idiot to make, Srelal thouqht in exasperation.  Launching an attack on one of the Federation vessels, just when the possibility of a negotiated settlement was approaching a critical stage.

Srelal, although not completely disinclined to the idea of waging war against the Federation, did not think that this was the proper moment for commencing such a campaign.  The Imperial Fleet had suffered a severe setback at the hands of these Guildsmen, and the information that she now possessed regarding the origin of the hostiles, convinced her that the Empire would not be well served by forcing Picard to chose between the role of mediator and combatant. If the Guildsmen were to ally themselves formally with the Federation, it would be a disaster, resulting in an unprecedented technological advance for the enemies of the Empire.  Srelal was determined to prevent such an occurrence!

Riker's question focused Troi's attention, and the contact between her and the man on the Gaia was broken.  She turned and saw that both he, and the Romulan Commander, were staring at her.  She sensed their unease, and recognized that she had acted irresponsibly by allowing herself to dwell on her personal feelings.  "It's nothing, Commander," she replied to Riker's question.  "I don't sense any additional danger to the Enterprise."

"Are you sure?" Riker asked, obviously not completely convinced.

Troi nodded, "I'm sure, Commander." 

Riker wanted to ask her why she was acting so strangely, but he stopped himself.  If Deanna wanted to keep secrets that was her business, he thought, still hurt by her refusal to see him after regaining consciousness.  He wasn't sure why, but he knew that their relationship had undergone a change in the past few days, and it bothered him.  Deanna's friendship had always been something he could rely on, and her coolness toward him since the incident with McFadden was hard for him to fathom.  He couldn't think of anything he had done to deserve her shutting him out of her life, but it was becoming increasingly clear to him that she felt otherwise.  When all of this was over, he promised himself, one way or another he would find out what was bothering her!

Captain Picard's sudden arrival on the bridge forced all of them to concentrate on strictly professional matters.  "Commander Riker," Picard said as soon as he stepped off the turbo-lift.  "My ready room, now!"

Picard's clipped order alerted Riker to a potential problem.  With a brief nod to Lieutenant Worf, a silent order to keep an eye on things, particularly their Romulan guest, he rose and followed Picard into the office.

"Sit down, Will," Picard said as the door slid shut behind them, then walked over to the food replicator.  "Tea, Earl Grey, hot."

Riker settled himself into one of the chairs arranged in front of the Captain's desk, waiting for Picard to sit down before asking, "What's up?"

Picard didn't immediately answer Riker's question. Instead, he said, "I deduced from your tone of voice earlier, that Captain Wilson has come up with a novel method of fighting an onboard fire."

Riker smiled.  "You could say that, Captain," he said.  "She intends to flood the affected decks with phaser coolant, over-pressurize them, and then blow the emergency hatches on both decks simultaneously to put out the fire."

The Captain's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Sounds risky," he commented dryly.

The remark was delivered in such a neutral tone, that it took Riker a moment to realize that Picard was exercising his not often seen sense of humour. Never one to pass up an opportunity for witty reparte', he responded with a suitable rejoinder.  "It wouldn't have been my first choice!"

"Nor mine," Picard agreed , appreciating the fact that Riker understood.  "Will it work?" he asked, turning serious.

"It could," Riker replied, matching the Captain's mood.  "S'dar has run some simulations and estimates a better than seventy percent chance of success."

"Anything else?" Picard asked.

"I'm afraid so, Captain.  Commander Davis, the Excalibur's First Officer, was badly injured in the initial explosion.  They don't think he's going to make it."

Bad news indeed, Picard thought.  The loss of such a senior staff member was always difficult, but coupled with the relative inexperience of the Excalibur's Captain, it again forced Picard to consider placing Commander Riker in temporary command of the other starship.

"According to Captain Wilson," Riker continued. "Davis was co-ordinating the search for McFadden. When the fire started on the deck above him, a bulkhead ruptured, crushing him and the security team he was leading."

"Any sign of McFadden?" 

Riker shook his head negatively.  "Not so far."

Picard scowled.  I should have never allowed that man on board, he thought bitterly. Then,choosing to dispense with the unprofitable exercise of second-guessing his own decisions, he briefed Riker on the progress he and DeSoto had made with the Captains of Admiral Turner's strike force.

"To concentrate on the positive developments of the past few hours," Picard began.  "Between us, Captain DeSoto and I have managed to convince most of Turner's strike group to stand down."

"That's good news," Riker replied, his relief evident.

"Yes," Picard agreed.  "It is unlikely that the attack could proceed without them.  Nevertheless, it still might result in the two of us being courtmartialed.  For all we know," he continued.  "the Federation Council might have been fully cognizant of Admiral Turner's plan."

"I find that hard to believe, Captain!"

"Stranger things have happened, Will.  The case can always be made for a first strike, if the mindset of the individuals involved is sufficiently biased in that direction.  There are many in the Federation who would like to see an end put to the Romulan threat once and for all.  Turner's plan might be attractive to those seeking a final solution," Picard concluded.

If that were true, Riker thought, then they were all in serious trouble.  They were in serious trouble anyway, he reflected, but at least the threat they presently faced was more immediate, and it was within their power to influence the outcome.  No-one in their right mind would try to predict the outcome of a full-scale war between the Federation and the Romulan Empire!

Much the same thoughts were running through Picard's mind as well.  If the Federation were to launch Turner's planned attack, the outcome was in no way certain.  As he had told DeSoto, Picard felt that such an attack would be strategic suicide.  Starfleet had still not fully recovered from the debacle at Wolf 359, and could ill afford depleting it's strength even further!

Political ambition  and military planning made for a poor mix in his opinion, and although Turner might be able to achieve his own short-term political goals by initiating such an attack, it was highly unlikely that a military offensive against the Empire could be sustained.  The end result of the operation, Picard thought, was likely to be a continuation of the present stalemate, accompanied by heavy loss of life on both sides!

Picard then brought the discussion around to the main reason he had called Riker into the office. "We have an additional problem," he began.

"Which is?" Riker asked.

How to put this so it doesn't sound totally insane? Picard asked himself, silently cursing the inherently ambiguous nature of temporal mechanics.  He decided that the best way was to just come out with it.  "One of the crewmen on board the damaged Guild scout-craft was Spock."

"Ambassador Spock!" Riker exclaimed.  "How the hell did he get on board a Guild ship"

"No, Number One, you misunderstood," Picard replied. "It is not Ambassador Spock, it is Commander Spock, First Officer of the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701, no suffix!"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard correctly, Will," Picard said. "That's the reason for the isolation of sick-bay.  The fewer people who know about Commander Spock, the better it will be for all concerned!"

"I still don't understand, Captain.  How could Spock... Commander Spock, be on the Guild ship?"

"Apparently, Number One, it has to do with the nature of the Gaia's propulsion system," Picard replied.  "It seems that Starfleet has been toying with the concept of hyper-warp for quite some time. The original Enterprise," he continued, "conducted an experiment to test such a propulsion system, and somewhere along the way they ran into the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild!"

It was a hard thing to believe, Riker thought. A younger version of Ambassador Spock?  How could that be, when they all knew that the Ambassador was now on Romulus?  Riker now understood what the additional problem that the Captain referred to entailed.  Somehow, they would have to make absolutely sure that Commander Spock was returned to his own time!

Picard watched his First Officer closely, seeing Riker's dawning comprehension of the complexity of the problem they now faced.  As if things weren't complex enough, Picard thought.

****

Data was about to ask McLaughlin what he meant, when the lift doors behind him opened, and he heard Saalesh's gasp.  It was an extremely un-Vulcan reaction, and indeed was not at all typical of the Centurion's usually calm demeanor, which piqued Data's curiosity sufficiently to cause him to turn and see who had come onto the Gaia's bridge.  If he had been human, Data himself might have reacted to the sight that greeted him.  Standing beside the human security officer was a young Vulcan woman, dressed in an old-style Starfleet uniform. The truly extraordinary thing, as far as Data was concerned, was that this woman was a virtual twin of Centurion Saalesh!  Then something even more extraordinary occured, Saalesh called the Vulcan woman by name!

"Saavik?"

The newcomer did her best to ignore the Centurion as she walked oyer to the Command Station, and made no direct reply to Saalesh's query.  Instead, she calmly nodded to the Gaia's Captain, and seated herself at the empty crew station to his left.

Data was immediately able to attach a historical reference to the name Saavik, and was absolutely fascinated by the information contained in the file. "Saavik, Admiral, onetime Chief of Operations, Starfleet Command," he recited from the record.  "Formerly, Captain of the Federation starship Potemkin, demoted from Admiral, at her own request, to take command of the USS Congo. Wife of Federation Ambassador Spock, of Vulcan."

It was this last statement that caused the young woman to whirl around and stare at Data in disbelief. "Spock is my teacher, not my mate!"

Data was not completely sure how to respond to the young woman's assertion.  The facts he had recited were a matter of historical record, and could not be challenged.

"Spock is my father," Saalesh said quietly, her voice trembling with emotion over which she had no control.

Data and LaForge both reached the same conclusion, at almost the same instant, but it was LaForge who gave voice to that conclusion.  "Then, Admiral Saavik was your mother!" he exclaimed.

Saalesh simply nodded, unable to speak, and unable to tear her eyes away from the woman in the Starf leet uniform.

Data and the others, McLaughlin included, continued to look from one to the other of the Vulcan / Romulans, silently watching the drama unfolding before them. The tableau was interrupted by the appearance of another crewman exiting a lift on the other side of the bridge.

McLaughlin turned to the new man.  "Let's have the good news first, Kevin."

The man hesitated as he caught sight of Saalesh, but recovered sufficiently from his surprise to give the Gaia's Captain his report.  "The communications array should be back on line within thirty minutes.  We're re-grafting the sub-processors now."

"The bad news?"

The man took a deep breath, before replying, "Both environmental co-processors are fused, that whole section is going to have to be replaced. The propulsion, and weapons systems, will be off line for at least twenty-four hours.  We think we've found the problem, but we'll have to run a full diagnostic before we attempt a restart."

"Recommendations?" McLaughlin asked.

"Maintain current status," the man replied. "Environmental systems are running off reserve power, and can continue at that level for seventy-two hours."

"I take it you don't recommend any combat operations in the forseeable future," McLaughlin concluded.

"Not unless you have a death wish!"

McLaughlin smiled at his subordinate's emphatic reply.  "All right, Kevin.  You best get back to work."

The man nodded in the affirmative and turned to comply with McLaughlin's order, but before he could depart, LaForge spoke up.

"I'm an engineer, Captain McLaughlin.  The Enterprise might be able to send over some additional personnel," he suggested.  "The job will get done a lot faster if you let us help."

McLaughlin eyed the two Federation officer's warily.  "It's Doctor McLaughlin, Commander, not Captain," he said.  "Although I am in nominal command of this vessel, we are not a military-style hierarchy. My name is Charles," he added, "And you can address me either by my given name or my professional title, which is Doctor."

Data was only listening to the exchange between Geordi and McLaughlin on a peripheral level, most of his attention was focused on Centurion Saalesh's intense scrutiny of the Vulcan woman in the Starfleet uniform.  He was beginning to develop a hypothesis which would account for the woman's presence on board the Guild ship, but as yet had no real facts to put his theory to the test.  The two women had not said a word to each other, and the tension between them was both obvious, and fascinating.  If this Vulcan was in fact Saalesh's mother, the space-time continuum could have been irreversably altered or alternately, the events which were now occuring in real-time had already occured for Saalesh's parents.  In which case, nothing they did could alter an outcome that had, to all intent and purposes, already passed into the realm of historical reality.

It was a perplexing problem, Data thought, cutting to the very root of human philosophy.  Were all of the actions they took from this point onward, pre-ordained?  Or could they still exercise free
will, and perhaps change the course of human history. If the woman named Saavik was killed, or otherwise prevented from returning to serve out her career and life's destiny, would the Centurion cease to exist?

"Well... Doctor," LaForge replied.  "The offer still stands.  You already have one Starfleet officer serving aboard your vessel, surely it couldn't hurt to have additional help?"

McLaughlin didn't seem too enthusiastic about the idea of allowing more Federation people onto the Gaia.  Like Data, his eyes kept straying to the two Vulcan women, his expression grave.

Actually, Mr. LaForge," McLaughlin said.  "I have two Starfleet officers  aboard the Gaia. The other one is Commander Spock."

****

Saalesh couldn't take her eyes off the woman who would someday become her mother.  There was so much she wanted to say to her, but the words wouldn't come.  All she could do was stare silently at Saavik, and wonder how this could be happening to her, to the both of them.

When McLaughlin told LaForge about her father also being on board the Gaia, she felt as if she were losing her mind.  The two most important people in her life were within touching distance, but she was a stranger to them!

The presence of her mother and father on the Guild ship explained why everything had seemed so familiar to her.  She had read the memories of her mother as a child, on a subconscious level, and had retained that information into adulthood.  This has already happened, Saalesh thought.  I am alive, so somehow my parents were returned to their own time.  Until this moment, she had not fully recognized the dangers inherent in this situation. What if the Romulan Fleet had been successful in their attempt to destroy the Gaia?

"Where is Spock now?" Saalesh asked McLaughlin.

"He is on one of the interceptors surrounding the ship that followed you here."

"You must bring him back," Saalesh said desperately.  "They must be protected from harm!"

"They are out of contact," McLaughlin replied. "As Kevin said, it will be thirty minutes before our communications array is back on line."

Saalesh turned to Data.  "Commander, please contact Excalibur, and warn them not to fire on the Guild ships!"

"With your permission, Doctor?" Data asked politely. 

"Permission granted!" McLaughlin responded. 

"Data to Excalibur!"

"Excalibur, Wilson here, go ahead Mr. Data. We were getting a little worried about you."

"Thank you, Captain," Data replied.  "We are well, there is no cause to be concerned for our safety."

"That's good news, Commander.  What do you have to report?"

"Captain Wilson, it is imperative that you take no hostile action against the Guild interceptors surrounding your ship," Data warned.  "There is a V.I.P. aboard one of them who's safety is of crucial importance."

There was silence in repsponse to Data's warning, and then Wilson replied, "We have no intention
of taking any hostile action, Data, but be advised that one of the Guild ships was damaged in an accidental collision.  We have an onboard fire, and momentarily lost attitude control," Wilson continued.  "One of the interceptors was crushed against our hull, and Captain Picard beamed the entire ship onto the Enterprise."

The news that Excalibur was on fire, came as an unpleasant shock to the Federation officers. "Is the fire under control?" Data asked with concern.

"Not at present, Commander.  We may have to abandon ship," the Excalibur's Captain admitted.

"Commander Data," McLaughlin said.  "Please tell the Excalibur's Captain that we are ready to assist in getting the crew off if they have to abandon ship."

"Did you copy that, Excalibur," Data asked.

"Yes, Commander," Wilson replied.  "Thank the Gaia's Captain, but we have the situation in hand should evacuation become necessary."

"Very well, Captain," Data responded.  "I will contact the Enterprise to ascertain the condition of the damaged Guild ship's crew."

"Alright, Data.  I would advise that the other Guild ships withdraw, to avoid being caught in the explosion when we decompress the affected areas of Excalibur."

"Decompress the affected areas?" LaForge wondered aloud, giving voice to a question which had occurred to Data as well.

"That's right, Mr. LaForge," Wilson said, apparently overhearing the engineer's remark.  "The fire suppression shielding isn't working, so we've determined our only chance to save the ship is to explosively decompress the decks that are affected by the fire!" 

Data ran a series of calculations, and quickly came to the same conclusion.  If the fire suppression system was not working to contain the fire, the only way to put it out would be to vent it into space. Nevertheless, it was a risk filled operation, and success could not be guarranteed.  Excalibur was in serious danger!  "I concur with your analysis of the options, Captain," Data said.  "But unfortunately the Gaia is unable to contact it's interceptors due to a communications failure.  Perhaps you yourself could warn them to withdraw?"

"We'll try, Data, but so far they haven't acknowledged our attempts to hail them," Wilson replied.

"Doctor McLaughlin?" Data asked.

"Your communications suites are not compatible with ours, Mr. Data;"

"We have modified the communications protocols on both the Enterprise, and Excalibur, to receive and transmit using Guild methods," Data said.  "Is there any way to assure that the crew aboard your vessels will respond to Excalibur's warning?"

"Tell the Excalibur to transmit this message," McLaughlin replied.  "Withdraw one-thousand kilometers, McLaughlin sends, code Alpha one-six."

Data nodded an acknowledgement to McLaughlin's instructions.  "Did you copy that Excalibur?"

"Affirmative, Data," Wilson replied.  "The message is being sent now."

A few seconds went by before Wilson's voice came back over the communications link.  "One of the interceptors has responded to our hail, Data," she said with obvious relief.  "They're pulling back now."

"Very good, Captain," Data replied.  "Data out."

****

Data's conversation with Captain Wilson had not relieved Saalesh's concern for her father's safety. If anything, the news that one of the Guild interceptors had been in a collision with Excalibur reinforced her conviction that both he, and Saavik, were in grave danger, as was her own existence if something should happen to either one of them!

Her mind reeled with the possible consequences of an inadvertent accident befalling one of the two people who would someday become her parents. If Spock were to die here, would the alliance between the Federation and the Klingon Empire ever have occured?  Spock had accomplished a great deal as an officer in Starfleet, but it was nothing compared to the accomplishments he was fated to make as one of the most respected ambassadors in the Federation!  Saalesh faced the prospect of not only losing her own life, which was as important to her as to any other sentient beings life was to them, but if Spock were to die, all his diplomatic initiatives would die with him!  Including, she thought bitterly, the reunification movement which had played such an important role in her life, and the lives of countless others in the Romulan Empire!

Saalesh looked again at Saavik.  She had been the most important person in her life, and Saalesh knew that the Starfleet officer standing before her also had an important role to play in the history of the Federation, and the Empire.  It is up to me, she thought, to convince her that history must not be changed!  "I must speak to Saavik in private, Doctor McLaughlin," she said, surprising herself with the firmness she heard in her own voice.

McLaughlin did not immediately reply to Saalesh's request, instead eyeing the two Vulcanoid women speculatively.  It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the two of them were related in some way, he thought, but was it really possible that this young woman was Saavik's daughter?  Saavik had not said a word since her outburst at Data's suggestion the she and Spock were mates, but over the past seven months McLaughlin had come to understand the depth  of Saavik's loathing for the Romulan Empire and all it stood for.  Could he then allow Saavik to subject someone who might, or might not be, her own daughter to that loathing?  He looked from one to the other, seeking some clue that would help him make the decision, and not finding one.

"May we use your quarters for our discussion, Doctor McLaughlin?" Saavik asked suddenly, catching McLaughlin off guard by the question.

"I suppose so, Saavik," McLaughlin replied, and then slowly and deliberately continued, "But please... no blood."

Saavik actually came close to smiling, shocking both Data and LaForge, neither of whom had ever seen a Vulcan smile.  "I shall endeavor to restrain myself, Doctor," she replied in an equally deliberate manner.  Then,with a curt nod in Saalesh's direction said, "Follow me please, Centurion," and strode toward a set of doors on the other side of the Gaia's bridge.

Saalesh followed quietly, prepared to do anything that was necessary to convince her mother that she was who she claimed to be, and that the bonds of blood between them could not be broken, even by time itself!

****

Data, Geordi, and McLaughlin watched in silence as the two women left the bridge.  Data wished that he could listen in on the conversation between Saalesh and Saavik.  No doubt it would be an enlightening experience to witness a confrontation between a mother and daughter who were thrown together in such an unusual situation.  Family relationships were a mystery to Data.  Although he had come to view his creator, Dr. Noonian Soong, as his father in all but the biological sense, and considered himself to be the father of Lal, an android he had created in his cybernetics lab, Data was unable to fathom the emotional ties which bound biological family units together.  If Saalesh was in fact the daughter of Saavik, and he had no reason to dispute the Romulan officer's claim, would Saavik be able to recognize Saalesh as her daughter?  Even though in this instance, the daughter appeared to be a few years older than the woman she claimed was her mother?  Was their something to the old-earth saying that 'blood was thicker than water'  he wondered, and would Saavik be able to tell on some deep-rooted emotional level that Saalesh was telling the truth about her parentage?

A fascinating dynamic was at work here, Data thought.  Well worth continued study, but unfortunately there were even more pressing issues to be resolved, and it was to these that his mind now turned.  "Dr. McLaughlin," Data began.  "We must discuss your conflict with the Romulan Imperial Fleet."

"I have no conflict with the Romulan Imperial Fleet, Mr. Data," McLaughlin replied.  "In every engagement we have fought with the Romulans, it was they who opened fire on us!  We have simply done what we've always done, defended ourselves!"

"The Romulans hold a different opinion regarding the cause of your conflict," Data said.  "As far as they are concerned, your incursion into their territory was a legitimate provocation which warranted the destruction of your vessel.  Unfortunately," he continued,  "the tenets of inter-stellar law would seem to support that assertion."

"How were we to know that we were in Romulan territory?" McLaughlin asked bitterly.  "As I'm sure you're aware, Mr. Data," he continued sarcastically, "There are no signposts in space to conveniently delineate territorial boundaries!"

"That may be so, Doctor," Data said in his typically reasonable manner, "Nonetheless, there are recognized inter-stellar agreements in place which do designate certain star systems as being in the control of the Romulan Empire.  When those territorial rights are infringed upon, the Imperial Fleet has standing orders to destroy the offending vessels."

"Then I guess we gave them a rude surprise, didn't we!" McLaughlin shot back.

"No doubt," Data conceded.  "However, the Romulans are demanding reparations for the vessels that you have destroyed, and are quite prepared to back up those demands with force."

"And is the Federation prepared to support that use of force?" McLaughlin asked quietly.  "Is that why there are three Federation ships in our vicinity, two of them within weapons range?"

"No, Sir," Data said in answer to McLaughlin's question.  "Quite the contrary, Captain Picard wishes to offer the services of the Federation to mediate this conflict," he explained.

"Picard?  That's the name of your commanding officer?" McLaughlin asked.

Data nodded in the affirmative.  "Jean-Luc Picard is Captain of the Enterprise, and has been appointed Task Force Commander."

McLaughlin smiled wistfully.  "I once knew a Picard.  He owned a small vineyard in the south of France. As a matter of fact..." he added, "I believe we still have some of that vintage on board."

"I'm not sure how much good it will do, Mr. Data,"  McLaughlin continued, getting back to the issue at hand.  "But I will agree to the peace conference," he concluded, looking directly into Data's eyes, as if trying to measure the android's sincerity.

"Very good," Data replied.

Geordi, who had been listening intently to the exchange between Data and McLaughlin, now brought up the same suggestion he had made earlier.  "Doctor McLaughlin, we could still assist you in getting your systems back on line.  It will probably take a while to arrange things with the Romulans, we could use that time to repair your ship."

"You don't sound convinced that a peace conference will be successful, Mr. LaForge," McLaughlin mused. "Do you know something I don't?"

"I've learned not to take anything for granted where Romulans are concerned, Doctor," Geordi replied noncommittally.

"We've learned the same hard lesson, Mr. LaForge. Nevertheless, my people have the situation well in hand.  I do not believe your assistance will be required."

LaForge could tell by the man's electro-magnetic aura that McLaughlin wasn't completely trusting of the engineer's motives in making the offer. He shrugged.  "Have it your way, Doctor, but I hope you have your weapons system back on line before the negotiations break down!"

McLaughlin didn't reply to LaForge's warning, instead he said to Data, "Please contact your ship, Mr. Data. I wish to know the status of my crewmen."

Data nodded.  "Data to Enterprise!"

****

At last! Picard thought with relief.  "This is Picard, go ahead Data!"

"Captain, the Gaia's commander has agreed to accept the Federation's offer of mediation," Data said. "However, there are circumstances involved in this situation of which you may not be aware."

Data must know about Spock, Picard thought, wondering how to phrase his reply without giving away the Vulcan's location to any Romulans who might be listening, including Commander Srelal who was sitting a few feet away from him.  "We will discuss that when you return, Data," Picard said guardedly, hoping the android would take the hint and not blurt out anything over the open communications link.

There was a noticeable pause, before Data replied, "Doctor McLaughlin would like to know the condition of the crew on the damaged interceptor, as would the wife and daughter of one of the crewmen."

Wife and daughter?  What did that mean? Picard wondered.  "Both crewmen are in stable condition, Data.  One of them had a serious leg wound, but Dr. Crusher advises me that he will be fine.  They are being held in isolation as a precautionary measure," he added.

"A very logical procedure, Captain," Data replied deliberately.

Only someone who knew Data very well would catch the special emphasis he put on the word 'logical', an obvious reference to Spock, and Picard understood what he was getting at.  Data recognized the dangers inherent in having it become known that Spock, Commander Spock, was on board the Enterprise.  Data's next statement however, caught Picard by surprise.

"I am sure the crewman's family will understand the logic of the measures you have taken as well."

Understand the logic?  My god, Picard thought, finally seeing who Data was referring to.  Saavik was on the Guild ship as well!  It was with great difficulty that Picard kept his voice carefully neutral. "I'm sure they will, Data.  How soon will you be transporting over with the Guild contingent to the peace conference?"

There was another pause, before Data replied. "Dr. McLaughlin advises me that he would prefer to fly his own interceptor to the Enterprise, Captain."

"Understood.  When can we expect you?"

"Fifteen minutes should be sufficient time to make the rendezvous Captain.  There are a few things that need to be clarified before we leave."

"Very good, Data.  Picard out!"

"Data out!"

***

Chapter Sixteen

Troi felt a little thrill of excitement go up her spine at the prospect of finally coming face to face with the apparition that had been haunting her dreams.  There was a certain amount of apprehension as well, she admitted to herself.  It wasn't every day that a woman was given the opportunity to meet the man of her dreams, literally!

Will he recognize me, she wondered?  Suddenly afraid that she might make a fool of herself.  What if I've been reading something into this contact that wasn't really there?  No, she thought, I couldn't have made that kind of error.  The certainty of her impressions were too strong for her to be mistaken.  She and this man were connected on the most primal of levels, she'd stake her life on it!

And perhaps I have, she thought, glancing at Will Riker standing beside her in the shuttle bay.  The bond between them was still there, but she had irrevocably committed herself to the severence of that bond.

No matter what happened, that part of her life was over, she resolved.  She wouldn't sit around and wait for Will to finally realize he loved her.  Once, she would have followed him anywhere, given up everything, to be with him, but no longer!  It was liberating in a way, but terrifying at the same time!

The Guild interceptor hovered just outside the shuttle bay ramp, waiting for final clearance to enter the Enterprise hanger.  The exterior force-field came down, and the small craft gingerly made its way past the open bay doors, coming to a stop twenty meters from the group of officers assembled to meet the Guild contingent.  Led by Captain Picard, the group included, in addition to Troi and Riker, Commander Srelal, and Dr. Crusher.  A small security team was also present, to provide a ceremonial escort to the conference room, and insure that Commander Srelal and the Guildsmen behaved themselves prior to the commencement of the negotiations.

It was the first time that Riker had actually seen one of the Guild interceptors in flight, and he was suitably impressed with the precision of the small craft's maneuvers.  She must be fun to fly, he thought. Envying for a moment the Guild pilot, while at the same time appreciating the man's skill.  The pilot held the interceptor about two meters off the deck, deploying the landing struts, then gently setting the ship down.  It was as good a landing as Riker had ever seen, the pads of the landing gear just kissing the deck before the entrance-way came down with an audible whoosh, and locked into place with a loud click.

Riker felt Troi, standing beside him, tense as the Guild ship's hatch opened, and wondered what it was that made her so nervous.  He looked at her, asking a silent question, but for some reason she wouldn't return his gaze, instead turning her head away as if embarrassed by his scrutiny.  He shook his head quietly, not understanding what had happened between them that would make her act in such an unusual manner.

Troi felt a flush begin to crawl up her cheeks. She tried to ignore Will, concentrating on the people she sensed aboard the Guild spacecraft, but it was hard for her.  Will Riker had been such a large part of her life, for so long, that at times it was as if he could see right through her.  At those moments she forgot that Will was human, without any of the telepathic abilities that would make her feelings transparent to a Betazoid male occupying the same role in her life.  He knew her better than anyone, and yet he didn't really know her at all, she finally realized.  There would always be that wall between them, even if things had worked out the way she once expected them to.  A permanent relationship with Riker would have eventually felt constricting, no matter how much she loved him.  There would always be a part of her that he couldn't know, the part that the Guildsman had touched so easily and naturally. A touch that felt like the carress of old lover, mind to mind, familiar and comfortable, a sharing of the souls that she and Riker could never attain. She could no longer accept anything less, she refused to settle for anything less!

The first one to emerge from the Guild ship was Data, followed by the man Troi was waiting for.  Kevin, his name popped into her mind the moment their eyes met.  "My name is Deanna Troi," she thought to him, not really expecting a reply, but making the effort nonetheless.

The man's gaze wavered for a moment, glancing at the Romulan Commander standing next to Deanna, but then his eyes returned to her.  "You are Celt?" he thought back at her.  "You have the 'gift'."

Troi's own eyes widened in surprise at the strength and clarity of his reply.  A human telepath?  Only her mother had ever communicated to her so clearly on a telepathic level!  Who was this man?

"My name is Kevin O'Donnell," he replied, still not speaking out loud, but smiling for her alone. "I did not realize that I would meet a Celtic princess this far from home, Deanna Troi.  Else, I might have come to you earlier."

Troi felt herself blush, detecting the subtle sexual undercurrent of the Guildsman's reply, and responding to it on an empathic level.  I must be careful, she thought, erecting the little used mental shields that she had been taught to rely on while still a child.  This man can read me too easily!

He must have caught that one stray thought, before her shields were fully in place, because he did something extraordinary.  He opened himself to her.  

"I know you, Deanna Troi," he thought to her.  "I have always known you!  Look at my thoughts, and know... I keep nothing from you!"

And she saw!  Saw his loneliness, his fruitless search for someone to share with, to understand him and his 'gift'.  Recognized the isolation that the 'gift' forced upon him, an  isolation which matched Troi's own.  She also glimpsed the high regard he held for Charles McLaughlin, the man who had given him a home, who had accepted Kevin's special talents without fully understanding them.  Who had said, when told of the 'gift', "That's fine, Kevin, you can play the role of Merlin, to my Arthur."

The history of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild unfolded before Troi's minds eye, as he guided her through his memories.  She saw the dream as they saw it, science without the strictures of political interference.  Exploration for the sake of exploration, not driven by the need to exploit, to gain strategic advantage.  It was the same kind of ideal that had brought Troi to serve in Starfleet, and she recognized a kindred spirit in Kevin O'Donnell, and the rest of the Guildsmen.

In an instant, Troi understood all that he was, all that he dreamed of being, and she knew with a certainty born of that understanding that these people did not want war, with the Romulans or anyone else.  That it went against their very nature.  That when pushed to the wall by the United Nations of Earth, the Guildsmen left the planet of their birth, rather than engage in a combat that they were almost certain to win.  It spoke volumes about the type of men and women these were.  Their's was the first truly international space effort.  The Guildsmen came from every ethnic background, every colour, and all the Earth's religions were represented among their company.  And Troi came to understand what a truly unique thing that was in the first decade of the twenty-first century, when wars of national separation and 'ethnic cleansing' occured with brutal regularity.

It was a term she was unfamiliar with, 'ethnic cleansing', but then Kevin showed her what it meant, and she was sickened by the images, realizing that this was the precursor to the Eugenics Wars of five decades later, in which over a billion people would die!  She felt his regret as she shared this with him, and the fleeting, bitter thought,that perhaps they could have prevented such things if they had stayed to fight.

"You had a different destiny, Kevin," Troi thought to him.  "The past is past, our future depends on it staying that way."

"I wonder," he replied through the telepathic link between them, as an image of the Romulan Centurion and another young Vulcanoid woman rose to the surface of his mind.

"Saavik!" Troi thought, shocked.  With the image came the feeling of impending doom that she had tried so hard to suppress for the past few days, and Troi felt a cold knot of fear deep inside her.

"Imzadi..."

The single word calmed her, brought her into focus as nothing else could.  "The future is not yet written in stone," she thought to him..  "And neither is the past..."
		
The thought hung between them, the conflicting emotions of hope, and desperation, whirling through both their minds.

Data made the formal introductions once McLaughlin had exited the Guild interceptor.  "Captain Picard, may I introduce Dr. Charles McLaughlin, Senior Project Officer of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild, and Kevin O'Donnell, his Executive Officer."

Picard stepped forward and took McLaughlin's outstretched hand.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor.  Mr. O'Donnell," Picard nodded at the second man, noticing as he did so that O'Donnell seemed to have eyes only for Counselor Troi.

"Captain Picard," McLaughlin replied, returning the Captain's firm hand-shake.  "Mr. Data tells me that you are a connoiseur of the grape," he continued, and then withdrew a dusty bottle from beneath his cloak.  "I thought you might appreciate this," he said with a smile, handing the bottle to Picard.

"I have to admit," Picard said, returning the Guild Commander's smile, "to some interest in the finer points of the wine-maker's art."  Taking the bottle by the bottom, Picard turned it around and carefully brushed the dust from the label.  "Chateau Picard, 1997," he read aloud, his voice little more than a whisper, stunned by the personal signifigance of the gift.

"It was a very good year, as I recollect," McLaughlin said, filling the awkward break in the conversation.

"Yes...  Picard replied slowly.  "Yes, I'm sure it was," he continued in a firmer tone, cradling the priceless bottle of wine gently, in the crook of his arm.

Then, bringing his mind back to the task at hand, Picard presented Srelal.  "Dr. McLaughlin, this is Commander Srelal  of the Romulan Imperial Fleet, First Officer of the warbird Ko'Leur.  She will be handling the negotions on behalf of the Romulan Empire."

Neither the Guildsman, nor the Romulan, made any move to offer their hand to the other.  "Commander," McLaughlin said shortly.

It took every ounce of self-control that Srelal possessed not to kill the Guild Commander where he stood.  It seemed to have been lost on Picard that one of his officer's was missing, as was Centurion Saalesh!  Being held hostage no doubt by this human bearing gifts!  "Where is Centurion Saalesh?" she demanded, not bothering to conceal her hostility.

It looked as if McLaughlin was no less hostile than Srelal, but before the Guildsman could reply, Data interjected, "Commander LaForge, and Centurion Saalesh, are still aboard the Gala.  There wasn't room for them on the interceptor, so they elected to be beamed directly to the Enterprise after we arrived."

"Very good, Data," Picard said, and then turning to Srelal.  "Does that satisfy you, Commander?"

I will not be satisfied until I see this human's blood staining your deck plates, Picard, Srelal thought to herself, somewhat mollified by Data's explanation, but wary nonetheless.  "I will be satisfied once these negotiations are completed, Captain," she said.

"Fine," Picard replied.  "Then I suggest we begin immediately.  Commander Riker, escort our guests to Conference Room One."

"Yes, Sir!" Riker acknowledged, motioning the two Guildsmen, and the Romulan Commander, to follow him.  "This way gentlemen... Commander."

"I know the way, Riker," Srelal spat, despising the fascade of politeness that humans seemed to find so comforting.

****

Srelal's attitude did not bode well for the success of this endeavor, Picard thought, wondering how Data could possibly bring about an agreement between the Romulans and the Guildsmen.  He was conscious of the android officer standing patiently by his side, and reflected again on how so much now depended on Data's ability to act as a dispassionate arbiter of this dispute.  "You have some additional information for me, Mr. Data?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, Captain," Data replied.  "This situation is much more complex than we first believed."

"You mean Spock, and Saavik," Picard responded, coming right to the point.

Data was taken off guard by the Captain's foreknowledge of the events he was about to brief him on.  "I did not realize that you were already aware of Spock and Saavik's presence, Captain.  However, there is another element; Saalesh is the daughter of Ambassador Spock, and Admiral Saavik."

That certainly explained a great deal, Picard reflected, but it opened up a whole new set of questions as well.  How in the world did the daughter of two of the most respected people in Federation history, end up being raised in the Romulan Empire, and serving as an officer in the Romulan Imperial Fleet?  And how can we assure that those two people get back to where they belong and live out the lives that are already a part of the historical record?

"How old is Saavik, Data?"

"She is a cadet at Starfleet academy, attached to the Enterprise, NCC-1701, as part of her regular training rotation.  Appoximately seventeen years of age."

Her whole life ahead of her, Picard thought, and what a life it would turn out to be!  "Suggestions,
Data?  How could this have happened?"

"It would seem to be an unforseen consequence of the hyper-warp drive, Captain," Data replied.  "There is a flaw in the Guild's navigation system that may be uncorrectable.  According to Dr. McLaughlin, the navigation system is designed to measure the gravimetric signature of a star, calculate the signature of a point in space at some distance from that star, and then manipulate the hyper-dynamic field to duplicate the signature of that point in space."

"The idea being, that each point in the space-time continuum has it's own, very specific, gravimetric signature, that is never duplicated or repeated at any other point in space or time," Picard concluded, seeing how such a system was theoretically possible.

"That is correct," Data acknowledged.  "However, designing instrumentation to actually measure the gravimetric signature of an individual star is difficult, because of the fractional differences in signature, between stars that may be light years apart in real terms."

"How fractional?" Picard asked, beginning to get an inkling of the monumental problem they faced.

"Hundreths of millionths, of a single wavelength," Data answered "But that is by no means the most difficult part of the problem," he added.  "Measuring the signature of a star is one thing, calculating the signature of a single point in the space-time continuum, at some specified distance from that star, is far more complicated.  Even at a distance of only one million kilometers from a star's photosphere, the gravitic influence of every other celestial body in the universe must be taken into consideration for such a system to work, as well as the volume of space-time one is intending to occupy."

My god, Picard thought.  The audacity of the man, even to make the attempt!  No wonder he was considered a giant in his field, and a rebel by the politicians of his day!  "Surely the Guildsmen recognized the difficulties, Data," he said.  "How did they try to solve this problem?"

"The Vietnamese astro-physicist / mathematician, Quyen Ky," Data replied.  "Proposed a complex mathematical equation which was designed to take these variables into account. However," he continued.  "There appears to be a flaw in her equation."

"If we allowed her access to the Enterprise computer, could she find the flaw in her calculations?" Picard asked.

"Possibly, but unfortunately Quyen Ky was killed during the United Nations attack on Guild research facilities in the year 2016."

"Merde!" Picard muttered, deeply disturbed by this piece of information.  "Is there no one else on board the Gaia who could continue her work?

"From what McLaughlin has told me, Captain," Data responded.  "Quyen Ky's way of looking at the universe was unique in every respect.  McLaughlin himself has said that he understand's only a fraction of Ky's base-line calculations."

I must talk to the man in private, Picard resolved. He must be made to understand the importance of Spock and Saavik being returned to their own place in the space-time continuum!

As if reading his Captain's thoughts, Data said, "Captain, it is possible that this situation will resolve itself."

"What do you mean, Data?"

Data paused thoughtfully, before replying, "It is a matter of historical record that Spock and Saavik lived their lives, Captain, and that Ambassador Spock is, to the best of our knowledge, still on the Romulan
home-world.  For them," he continued, "These events have already occured, and are a part of their past."

Picard considered this, but remained unconvinced. If what Data theorized were true, it would mean that they did not have the option of excersising their own will, that this was all preordained in some way, and nothing in Picard's experience had prepared him to accept that notion!  He was suddenly reminded of Sela, the Romulan who claimed to be the daughter of Tasha Yar, and wondered again how much of her story was true.  If it was, he reflected, then the past could be changed, and the decisions reached here would reverberate through time in both directions! He was unwilling to take that chance.  If we give up the belief in our ability to influence the outcome of events, he thought, what was the point of existence?

"Perhaps these events are a part of Spock's past, specifically because of something that we do here, Mr. Data," Picard-said.  "I refuse to leave this matter to blind fate!"

Data nodded, acquiescing to his Captain's viewpoint. "Understood Sir."

"That having been said," Picard continued.  "It's absolutely crucial that I have the opportunity to speak to Dr. McLaughlin in private, Data.  Therefore, regardless of how the negotiations are proceeding, I want you to call a recess in one hour."

Data acknowledged the order with a sharp inclination of his head.  "Am I to take it then, Captain, that I will be acting as chief negotiator?" he asked.

Picard immediately understood by Data's tone of voice that the android perceived the potential conflict between his last order, and Data's role as impartial arbiter.  "Yes, Data.  You will be the Federation's official representative at these talks between the Guild and the Romulan Empire," he affirmed.  "And you will act in a competely impartial manner during those negotiations.  However, you are also this vessel's Second Officer, and my initial order to call a recess in one hours time stands.  What McLaughlin and I discuss during that meeting, need not affect the negotiations themselves," he concluded, hoping to ease Data's misgivings.

"I believe that I can act in the capacity you describe, Captain," Data agreed.  "Provided I have no knowledge of the specifics of your discussion with Dr. McLaughlin."

"Agreed, Data.  I'll be on the bridge, if you need me."  Picard then tapped his combadge.  "Picard to Counselor Troi."

"Troi here, Captain."

"Meet me on the bridge, Counselor.  Picard out."

"Aye, Captain," Troi replied.

Picard then turned back to Data.  "Good luck, Data."

"Thank you, Captain.  I shall endeavor to find a peaceful resolution to the conflict."

The Captain didn't reply, he simply turned and walked out of the shuttle bay, leaving Data to ponder his role in the negotiations.  It would be a unique challenge, he thought, bringing two such disparate groups to a mutually satisfactory agreement.

****

"Depressurization of decks two, and five, is complete, Captain," S'dar informed her.

"Very well, S'dar," Wilson acknowledged.  "Mr. Ursal, inform the Enterprise that we are ready to proceed with the explosive decompression of decks three, and four.  Advise them to stand off five-hundred kilometers, and to prepare for the evacuation of Excalibur if the attempt to put out the fire is unsuccessful."

"Aye, Sir!"

Wilson swung her chair back around, facing the main viewer.  I hope the hell this works, she thought briefly, committed to S'dar's plan, but with a lingering doubt as to it's potential success.

"Enterprise acknowledges receipt of message, Captain," Ursal said from behind her.  "They are standing by to receive casualties."

Wilson smiled grimly to herself.  Let's hope that won't be necessary! she thought.

"Enterprise has withdrawn five-hundred kilometers, Captain," S'dar informed her, "and is holding station."

"Understood!" Wilson replied, feeling her heart rate increase now that the moment of truth had finally arrived.  "Blow the hatches on decks three, and four!"

S'dar hesitated for just a fraction of a second, his finger poised over the hatch release override, curiously detached from what he was about to do. Then he pushed the control pad, releasing the hatches and dropping the ship's shields at exactly the same instant.

Excalibur shuddered beneath them, rocking briefly before the stabilizers brought the ship back to an even keel.  The forward viewscreen flared, as hot electro-plasma streamed from the forward emergency hatches two decks below the bridge, then abruptly went dark.

"Forward optical sensors off line," S'dar reported calmly.  "Switching to secondary systems."

The viewscreen flickered back to life, the images casting an eerie glow on the faces of the bridge
crew.  Long stringers of plasma were visible slowly drifting away from the ship.

"Status report!" Wilson demanded.

S'dar glanced down at his sensor display, configured to monitor the temperature on the decks affected by the fire.  "Temperatures are approaching absolute zero on decks three, and four, Captain.  The fire appears to be extinguished," he concluded without a trace of satisfaction.

Wilson eyed the plasma streamers on the viewscreen warily, realizing that if one of them contacted the Excalibur's exposed hull, they would have exchanged one disaster for another of equal danger.  "Raise shields!  Helm, one quarter impulse power, z-minus two-hundred kilometers, and hold!"

''Aye, Captain!'' the helm officer responded immediately.

Wilson got up and walked over to S'dar's station, looking over his shoulder at the sensor display, as if to assure herself that the fire really was extinguished.  She briefly touched the Vulcan's shoulder as she leaned over, surprised by the heat she could feel through his uniform.  "Good work, S'dar," she said simply,  not quite knowing any other way to express the gratitude she felt toward him for coming up with the plan to save the ship.

The Captain's cool touch almost caused S'dar to flinch, but he controlled the reflex, instinctively suppressing any emotional response to the brief human contact.  "There is no need to praise my performance, Captain," he said, attempting to discourage any notion that he possessed a human ego which needed stroking.  "My actions were based solely on a logical analysis of the problem, leading to a hypothetical solution.  The results were satisfactory," he concluded, his voice cool.

Satisfactory indeed! Wilson thought with amusement, beginning to understand the Vulcan's attitude.  It was funny how S'dar could take a compliment, and make it seem like a gross insult to his Vulcan dignity.  "Thanks anyway, S'dar," she said, just to see if she could get a reaction.

Before S'dar could reply, the Excalibur's Chief Medical Officer called the bridge.  "CMO to Captain Wilson!"

"Wilson here, go ahead," she replied, returning to the command chair.

"Commander Davis has died, Captain," the doctor informed her, his voice tinged with sadness.

The news was met with stunned shock on the part of the senior bridge crew, many of whom had worked with Davis for more than three years.   Understood, Doctor," Wilson replied quietly.  "I'll inform his family personally, as soon as a sub-space channel becomes available."

"Yes, Sir.  CMO out."

In space, it's always the unexpected that kills you, Wilson thought bitterly, echoing the words of Davis himself...  "Open a channel to the Enterprise."

****

"We are being hailed by Excalibur,"

"On screen, Lieutenant," Picard replied.

The exterior view of the stars, with Excalibur hanging in the middle of it, long filaments of plasma slowly drifting away, was replaced by the image of Captain Wilson.

"Enterprise here, go ahead Excalibur," Picard said, thinking again how beautiful the other starship's Captain was, and then dismissing the thought at once.

"The fire is out, Captain Picard," Wilson said, her mood sober.

"That's good news, Captain," Picard replied, wondering at the young Captain's somber tone, expecting instead some sign of exhuberence now that the immediate danger to her ship was past.

"Yes," Wilson responded, obviously distracted. "S'dar's plan was a complete success, we're repressurizing the decks adjacent to the fire now, and should be able to get back onto decks three, and four, in about an hour."

"Is there something else, Captain?" Picard asked, some sixth sense telling him that Wilson was deeply troubled.

"Commander Davis has died," the young Captain said quietly.

To Picard, those four words explained Wilson's mood completely.  There was no harder thing for a Captain, than accepting the fact that people under their command sometimes paid with their lives for the decisions made by their commanding officer.  It was a brutal lesson, that every senior officer had to deal with in their own way.  Picard assumed that Wilson was no stranger to quick and violent death, having risen through the ranks to achieve her Captaincy, but it was always different from the perspective of the Captain's chair.  It was a very personal thing to come to grips with, a struggle that each Captain must wage within themselves, and either overcome or give up their commands.  There were no other options.

Over the past two days, Picard had come to believe that Christina Wilson was an outstanding officer, and would become an equally outstanding Captain if given the chance.  He was about to give her that chance, what she did with it was up to her.

"Understood, Captain," Picard said, his voice businesslike.  "Who have you appointed for his replacement as First Officer?"

He saw the uncertainty flicker in her eyes, the question obviously taking her by surprise, and then it was replaced by something else.  An understanding perhaps, of what Picard was trying to communicate. How she answered his question would make or break her career, he thought, fully prepared to relieve her of her command.

"Lieutenant Commander S'dar will be assuming the duties of First Officer," Wilson replied, her expression undergoing a subtle change.  She turned her chair slightly, "Computer, note the change of duty assignment in the ship's log."

"Very well, Captain," Picard said, and then in a softer tone, "On behalf of the ship's company of the Enterprise, please accept my condolences on your loss."

"Thank you, Captain Picard.  Excalibur out!"

"Channel closed, Captain," Worf reported from the tactical station, his voice unusually subdued.

"Davis was a good man," Riker said quietly from his seat to Picard's right.  "He was acting Second Officer when I commanded Excalibur during the Klingon civil war."

Picard nodded, remembering Riker's commendation of the man after the blockade of the Klingon-Romulan border was brought to a successful conclusion.

"I read your report, Number One," he said.  "I hope S'dar proves to be as capable a First Officer."
Futher discussion of the subject was interrupted when Commander LaForge's voice burst out over the inter-ship communications channel.  

"LaForge to Enterprise!"

"This is the Captain, go ahead Mr. LaForge."

"We're ready to beam back to the Enterprise, Captain," Geordi informed them, and then paused, before asking, "Are you aware of the third member of our party?"

"Yes, Geordi," Picard replied.  "Data informed me that we would be having an additional guest coming aboard."

"Understood.  LaForge out!"

Picard rose from his seat and headed toward the turbo-lift.  "You have the bridge, Number One," he called over his shoulder, as the lift doors closed behind him.

****

Saalesh told her everything.  She watched in fascination as Saavik's attitude changed from one of outright hostility, to grudging interest, and then tentative acceptance of the future Saalesh laid before her.  Saavik sat calmly, digesting what she had been told, not saying a word.  When she finally spoke, it was in the Vulcan tongue.  "Saalesh... it is a play on my own name, is it not?" she asked quietly.

"I believe so," Saalesh replied in the same language, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks.  "I was never told why I was given such a strange name."

"Neither was I," Saavik responded, her voice barely stronger than a whisper.

Saalesh desperately wanted to reach out to her, to tell her other, more personal, things.  She refrained from doing so, because she sensed that Saavik was not ready, that any attempt on her part to bridge the gap between them would be rebuffed.  She was not prepared for the pain that would cause, and so she stood quietly, watching the young woman who would someday become her mother.

It was like looking in a mirror, Saalesh thought, startled by how much they resembled one another. One part of her mind grappled with the strangeness of the situation they found themselves in, while another part analysed the problem from a coldly logical perspective, trying to find a solution that would return Saavik to her proper place in the space-time contiuum.  Saavik and Spock both, she amended, taking into account that her father was also stranded here, and knowing with absolute certainty that two separate Spock's could not exist for long occupying the same time.  Unless her father was already dead on Romulus, she thought, suddenly afraid for him.

"Spock still lives?" Saavik asked abruptly, as if reading Saalesh's mind.

Saalesh slowly nodded in the affirmative, not trusting herself to speak.  Illogically convinced that giving voice to the thought which had occured to her would somehow make it come true.

"We must return then," Saavik concluded, switching back to Earth Standard.  "There is no other alternative."

"No other alternative," Saalesh agreed, knowing that she was sending her mother back in time to fulfill a destiny that would include a painful death.  A death Saalesh herself had been a witness to.

Saavik's eyes met Saalesh's own, holding the contact, as if seeking the answer to an unspoken question. Then, satified that she had found the answer she sought, Saavik smiled in that special way that Saalesh remembered so well from her childhood.  "All will come to pass as it should, Saalesh.  You bear no responsibility for things which have already occured," she said.

She knows, Saalesh thought.  She knows that although Spock is still alive in this time, she is not.

"You must not tell Spock any of this," Saavik continued. "It would needlessly complicate an already complicated situation."

"I will respect your wishes... mother," Saalesh replied, her voice catching as she spoke the last word, embarrassing herself by her lack of emotional control.

Saavik touched her then, reaching up and brushing Saalesh's cheek with her fingertips.  "Spock has taught me that I must follow my own path.  That logic is not an end in itself, but is a means to an end.  The path you have chosen, Saalesh, may not have been the one I would have picked for you, but your life is your own.  Do not allow the Vulcan way to bind you.  Logic is a tool, nothing more."

S'dar would not agree, Saalesh thought.  To him logic is an end in and of itself, but of the two points of view, she much preferred the one enunciated by Saavik.  During her mind-meld with S'dar, Saalesh had detected a coldness, a detachment, that she found repugnant.  There was no anger, but there was no joy either, and she couldn't accept the philosophy that to control one, a person necessarily had to give up the other.  If to live as a Vulcan, I must dispense with love as well as anger, she thought, I would rather not live at all!

"If you try to deny that part of you that is Romulan, and Human," Saavik said carefully, sensing Saalesh's confusion.  "You deprive yourself of resources that are not available to other Vulcans.  Spock thinks of his humanity as a weakness, but I believe that it is one of his strengths.  It was not logic," she continued, an uncharacteristic catch in her voice, "That caused him to save a savage half-Vulcan child from the ravages of Hellguard.  It was compassion, a human emotion that the others in the rescue party lacked, that drove him to treat me differently than the other children," she finished.

Saavik's words gave Saalesh an insight into their relationship that had hitherto been denied her. She loves him, even now, she thought.  I wonder if Spock realizes the depth of her feelings for him.  From the corner of her eye, Saalesh caught the form of Commander LaForge walking over to them, and her mother's next words were spoken not to her, but to the Federation officer.  

"Is the Enterprise prepared to receive us, Commander?" Saavik asked, her tone of voice respectful, in recognition of LaForge's senior rank.

"I'm waiting for word from the transporter room now," LaForge replied, and then hesitantly asked, "Are you and Saalesh finished talking?"

"Yes, Commander.  For now," Saavik replied."I am sure we will have the opportunity to speak again."

"O'Brian to Commander LaForge!"

Geordi tapped his combadge.  "LaForge here, go ahead Chief!"

"We're ready to transport you, Commander."

Saavik got up from her seat, and stood beside Geordi and Saalesh.

"Understood, Chief!  Three to transport."

***

Chapter Seventeen

"Energize, Mr. O'Brian," Picard ordered tersely.

O'Brian stroked the console, beginning the transport cycle, and three forms began to materialize on the platform.  Picard found himself strangely agitated by the prospect of seeing Saavik again.  It was sixteen years since he had last spoken to her, and he remembered that conversation now with regret, believing it to be the catalyst for her later disappearance.

As the transport cycle wound down, and the forms on the pad solidified, Picard realized his error. The young woman standing before him bore little resemblance to the poised Starfleet Commander, later Admiral, he remembered from his youth.  Aside from her obvious physical similarity to Saalesh, and the Saavik that he had known, the person standing quietly between LaForge and the Centurion was a complete stranger to him.

No, he thought, not quite a stranger.  The eyes were the same.  There was that same fire in her
gaze that would, once she achieved the rank of Commander, have the capacity to freeze junior officers with a single look.  It was that look that she turned on him now, and Picard became mesmerized by the young woman's cool appraisal.

Saalesh stepped off the transporter pad, followed by Saavik.  "Captain Picard, this is Saavik... my mother."

For an instant, Picard was taken back to another time, standing before this same woman, awaiting her decision regarding his future as a Starfleet Officer.  For that brief second, he felt as if he were once again Ensign Jean-Luc Picard, summoned to appear before his commanding officer for disciplinary action, after the fiasco at Starbase Ehrheart. He shook off the memory, with some difficulty, and stepped forward to greet this much younger version of that formidable commanding officer.

"Saavik, welcome aboard the Enterprise," Picard said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute.  "Your presence honours us."

The formality of his greeting seemed to surprise her, but she recovered quickly, raising her own hand to return Picard's salutation.  "It is I who am honoured, Captain Picard," she replied, completing the ritual.

The voice was the same as well, Picard thought wistfully, surprised by how just hearing her speak struck a chord deep in his soul.  I've missed you, Saavik, he said to himself.

She studied him silently, and then asked, "Have we met before, Captain Picard?  You are looking at me as if you know me," she observed.

Picard glanced at Centurion Saalesh, wondering how much Saavik had been told, and how much she should be told about her future role in Federation history.  "We have met before, Saavik," he acknowledged, deciding to play it by ear.  "A very long time ago."

"I see," Saavik replied, a trace of amusement tinging her voice.  "A long time ago for you, perhaps."

"Yes, for me," Picard agreed, seeing her point.

"I wish to see Commander Spock, Captain Picard. We have much to discuss."

"Very well," Picard responded.  "He's in sick-bay."  Seeing her look of alarm, he sought to reassure her.  "He's quite all right, Saavik.  Spock was injured during the collision with Excalibur, but Dr. Crusher was able to repair the damage, and assures me that he will make a full recovery."

"Not unless we return to our own time, Captain," Saavik contradicted him.  "If we cannot return to our own place in the space-time continuum, Spock will die!"

"Die!" Picard exclaimed.  "I don't understand?"

"Spock cannot exist in two places at once, Captain," Saalesh explained.  "My father is on Romulus, but he is also here, on board the Enterprise, and his younger-self has been here for the past seven months on board the Gaia.  Such a situation cannot continue indefinately, without one or the other, or both of them, suffering the effects of such an unnatural dichotomy."

He could understand how that might cause difficulties, somewhat surprised that he had not thought of it before.  But the fundamental problem remained, how were they going to get Saavik and Spock back to their own time?  As he considered this new element, another thought occured to him, and as he looked at Saalesh, her troubled expression confirmed his suspicion. Only Spock would suffer, because only Spock was still alive in this time

Picard's eyes shifted to Saavik, and he realized that she knew as well.  She returned his look with unflinching frankness, and perhaps a trace of amusement as well.  "The fact of my death does not bother me as much as it appears to bother you, Captain Picard," she said, as if she had picked the thought out of his own mind.  "I find it much more astounding that I am fated to die at such an advanced age," she continued.  "And that Spock and I will mate, and produce a daughter from our union," she added quietly.

Picard was reminded suddenly of the wedding between Spock and Saavik.  A wedding he had attended while serving as an aide to Admiral McCoy, just after his graduation from Starfleet Academy.  McCoy had introduced him to Spock, and Spock in turn had presented his wife, Saavik.  He had been instantly captivated by the woman, and he remembered how she had looked at him that day, almost as if she knew him.  He now realized that Saavik had known him, had in fact met him when she was a cadet, and he was a Captain!

The look of cool amusement in her eyes that day was an exact reflection of the look she graced him with now, and again Picard found himself captivated. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe that it was Admiral Saavik that stood before him, not Saavik the Academy cadet-trainee.  Such poise was rare in one so young, he thought, and it explained why Saavik was fated to become one of the most respected officers in Starfleet Command.  He held this young woman's future in his hands, he realized, as she had once held his future in her's!

It was a future that Picard was absolutely determined that she would have.  He now knew why Saavik had taken such an interest in a freshly commissioned Ensign named Jean-Luc Picard, first as his commanding officer on the Potemkin, and then as Chief of Operations for Starf leet Command.  It was Saavik, Admiral Saavik, who signed the recommendation for his Captaincy of the Stargazer, and now he finally understood. She had groomed him his whole career for this moment, knowing that they would meet again, when he was Captain of a Federation starship, and she was the lowly cadet with her whole career ahead of her. I will get you home Saavik, he promised silently. The debt will be repayed!

"Sick-bay is this way, Saavik.  Let's brief Commander Spock as soon as possible.  I imagine it will take all our ingenuity to return you to your own place in the space-time continuum, so it's best we get started immediately."

Saavik nodded gravely.  "I agree, Captain Picard. There is not a moment to lose, being stranded here would be very... inconvenient, for all concerned."

****

Troi hesitated, before reaching out and activating the door chime.  It has to be done, she thought, and it has to be done now!

The door to Riker's quarters slid open, and Will was standing there, looking slightly disheveled, and obviously surprised to see her.  "Deanna!  Come on in.  I was just taking a short nap." 

"Do you mind if I join you for a moment, Commander?"

Riker's jaw dropped in surprise, and Troi realized, belatedly, how he might have misinterpreted her question. "I'm sorry, Will," she stammered.  "That didn't come out the way I intended."

"Just how did you intend it, Counselor?" Riker asked, arching his eyebrows suggestively.

Troi's empathic sense picked up on his light mood, and she found herself smiling with him, despite the serious nature of her visit.  I do love you Will Riker, she thought warmly.  No matter how our lives change from this moment, I will always love you!

As Deanna came into the room, and the door slid closed behind her, Riker realized it was the first time they had been alone together for days.  "Sit down, Deanna.  Can I get you anything?"

"No," she replied, suddenly feeling very distracted, and wondering if she would have the strength to go through with it.  She settled herself on the corner of his couch, barely noticing her surroundings, but acutely aware of Will sitting across from her. How do I begin? she thought desperately.  How do I tell a man I have loved for more than ten years that there is a psychic link between us that I chose not to reveal to him?  How can I expect him to understand, when I don't really understand it myself?

Riker looked at Troi, wondering what it was that had brought her here.  She sat across from him, her hands folded in her lap, but he could tell that she was nervous.  As he sureptitiously watched her, a single tear rolled down her cheek, and he was filled with a feeling of love for her that surprised him with it's intensity.  How could I ever be angry with her? he thought, chastising himself.  She looks so vulnerable right now, I just want to reach out and hold her.

Troi reached across, and placed her hand on his arm, looking deep into his eyes, and taking a deep breath to steel herself for what was coming.  "Will," she began hesitantly.  "There's something I have to tell you, and I want you to listen carefully. Please... try not to judge me too harshly."

"What is it, Deanna?"

Riker's expression, filled with concern, almost caused Troi's resolve to falter.  No, she thought resolutely, this must be done now!  "I haven't been completely honest with you, Will.  About us I mean."

Riker smiled, and his smile broke her heart. "When are two people ever completely honest with each other, Deanna?  Especially when they've shared the past we have?"

Imzadi... Even as she thought the word, she knew that it no longer applied exclusively to Will Riker, and that saddened her deeply.  She turned away from him, and looking out the window, she could see the Gaia as a bright speck against the dark asteroid hanging below it.  My future lies there, she thought, knowing that Kevin had returned to his ship to continue the repairs of the Gaia's propulsion system.  For better or worse, my future lies there.  She was suddenly assailed by that same intangible feeling of dread that had come over her with the arrival of Excalibur. She shivered, a cold chill running down her spine, and for the hundredth time that day she wondered if she were doing the right thing.  What if the feelings she had for Kevin were driven simply by the fact that he was a kindred spirit.  Another telepath, forced to live among non-telepathic humans, and like her, relieved to find someone who could understand what it was like to live everyday in isolation. Cutting herself off from the bond with Will would isolate her even further from the rest of the Enterprise's crew.

"I will not leave you, Deanna Troi."  The thought was not her own, it came from the Gaia, from Kevin. She held on to the thought, taking strength from it, and committing herself to the path she had chosen.

"What's wrong, Deanna?" Riker asked, leaning forward and taking her hands in his own.

Where do I begin, Troi thought, momentarily at a loss for words.  The answer came to her almost as soon as the question occurred.  The beginning, I must start at the beginning.

"Do you remember when we first started seeing each other, Will?  On Betazed?"

"Of course!  Surely you don't think I would forget something like that?"

Troi smiled at him.  "No, I don't think you could forget, Will.  In fact I know you couldn't, even if you wanted to."

Riker was puzzled by her remark.  It was said lightly, but he thought he detected some dark undercurrent of regret coloring her words.  What's she getting at? he wondered.

Troi sighed, seeing his puzzled expression, and knowing that she wasn't being very forthright, even
now.  Get on with it! she thought bitterly.  There's no point to delaying this any longer!

"When we were on the Yorktown, I told you quite a lot about Betazoid physiology, but there's something I kept to myself.  It's called the 'bond'."

"The bond?"

"Yes, Will.  The bond..." she repeated slowly.

Riker shook his head.  "I don't think I understand, Deanna.  What's this got to do with me?"

Everything... she wanted to scream at him!  It's got everything to do with you!  Instead, she took another deep breath, letting it out slowly, allowing the tension to drain from her.  "You and I are bonded," she said calmly, in reply to his question.  "From the first time we were together, I bonded you to me."

"Maybe I'm just dense, Deanna.  I still don't get it. Why are you telling me this now?  We haven't
been lovers for years."

"It's not quite that simple, Will.  We are still bonded, you and I, and now I have to release you from that bond."

Riker's skepticism showed clearly on his face. "Release me?" he queried, still confused by what she was telling him.

There was only one way, Troi thought.  She would have to show him.  Troi leaned forward slightly, looking deep into Riker's eyes.  At the same time, she began to move her hand up his arm, lightly brushing his bare skin with her fingertips, while concentrating on a mental image of the two of them as they once were, physically intertwined.

The effect on Riker was sudden, and powerful! He felt drawn into the deep black pools of her eyes.  His own eyes widened in surprise as he felt the electric shock of her fingertips tracing a path up his arm. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive, on fire with the need for her!  The immediate sexual arousal that accompanied her touch, unlike anything he had ever experienced before!  Riker reached for her... and just suddenly as it began, it was over, leaving him trembling and disoriented.

"Do you understand now?" Troi asked in a small voice.

Riker found it hard to speak.  Nothing in his life had prepared him for the intensity of the experience. He felt physically ill, as if somehow his mind had detached itself from the rest of his body, and hadn't yet quite made the transition back to normalcy. The back of his throat was dry, and when he stood up to go get a drink from the food replicator, he was intensely embarrassed to discover that the physical manifestation of his desire was all too obvious. "What...," he managed to stammer, "was that?"

"That... was the bond," Troi replied quietly, looking away from him, as if she too were embarrassed by what had just happened.

Riker was silent, trying to bring his mind, and body, to grips with what he had just gone through. For the first time since he had known her, Troi felt like a stranger to him!  How could she do this to me? he asked himself.  Why would she do this to me?

Troi saw the questions written on his face, but knew instinctively that his pride would not allow him to ask them.  It was necessary, she chanted to herself.  It was necessary!  I had to make him understand!

"I'm sorry, Will.  It was the only way," she said, her voice cracking with emotion, tears beginning to flow freely down her cheeks.

"Can you manipulate all men so easily, Deanna?", he asked bitterly.  "Or do you take some special pleasure from making a fool out of me?"

Troi's control broke completely then.  "No!" she sobbed.  "That's not why I did this!  Please... Will, you have to believe me!"

She was almost hysterical, and that more than anything else brought Riker's anger under control. He had never seen her like this, and it sobered him. "Why... Deanna?  Why didn't you tell me about the bond?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Because I didn't want to lose you!" she nearly shouted at him.  "Can't you understand how alone I am?  You were my anchor... my only anchor to the part of me that's human, and I didn't want to lose that!  I didn't want to lose you," she finished, brushing the tears from her cheeks, her gestures sharp, her anger matching his own of a few moments before.

"I've caused you a lot of pain over the years, haven't I?" Riker asked.

Troi simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"I'm so sorry, Deanna.  I never realized you felt this way," he said sadly, accepting the fact that he had lost her.  "I've been a fool!"

Troi reached out and stroked his cheek softly with her fingertips   "So have I," she admitted. "I should have told you about the bond, but I was afraid."  She looked away, again searching for the Gaia.  "Since my father died, you were the only real contact I had with my humanity.  I couldn't bare to give that up."

"Why now, Deanna?  What made you tell me this now," he asked.

With a great deal of effort, Troi brought herself under control.  This was going to be the most difficult part, she thought.

"I think I've fallen in love with someone else." 

Riker was completely taken aback by her matter-of-fact statement.  "Who is it?" he finally managed to ask.

"Kevin 0 'Donnell."

Kevin O'Donnell?  For a moment, the name eluded him, and then he remembered.  Kevin O'Donnell was the pilot of the Guild interceptor, the man Dr. McLaughlin had introduced as his Executive Officer. "But you just met him, Deanna!  How can you be in love with a man you never laid eyes on until less than an hour ago?" he asked, disbelieving.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Will. Kevin is a full-telepath, the only human telepath I've ever heard of, and he touches something in me that's never been touched before.  I don't know what I feel for him exactly, but it's very deep, very personal."

"I see," Riker replied, but in reality he didn't see at all.  What could possess Deanna to act so irrationally, he thought.  It wasn't like her. One of the things that had first attracted him to her was her tranquility, her stability, and now this?  It didn't make any sense!

"I know it doesn't make any sense, Will," Troi said, unconsciously reading him.  "It doesn't make any sense at all," she repeated, as if trying to convince herself.  "But it's what I feel."

Riker struggled to understand, but failed.  She was right, it was totally incomprehensible to him how someone could fall in love with only one meeting!

Troi watched him struggle with what she had told him, seeing the disbelief and inability to comprehend reflected in the way he stared back at her.  His expression mirroring the uncertainty she herself was feeling.  She knew him so well, and yet she had betrayed him.  She realized that now, that no matter how she had rationalized keeping the bond a secret, it was a betrayal of the trust he had put in her!  How can I expect him to forgive me, Troi thought. What I have done is unforgivable!

"I need to release you from the bond, Will," she said slowly.  "So that the both of us can get on with our own lives."

Some of the bitterness returned to Riker's eyes. "Did it ever occur to you Deanna, that I might not want to be released?" he asked, his voice tinged with regret, as if he had finally come to understand the depth of his feelings for her.

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes.  "You will always be my best friend, Will Riker," she said, gripping his arm.  "Always!"

Then she released him, both mentally and physically. Troi felt the bond slip away, like a bubble of air rising to the surface of the ocean, and bursting when it made contact with the atmosphere, it's molecules dissipated on the wind.  It wasn't quite as bad as she thought it would be, but it was bad, nonetheless...

Troi gasped, and Riker reached out to her, but she shook him off, stumbling as she headed for the door.  All he could do was watch her walk out of his quarters, and out of his life.  As the door closed behind her, he knew that it had also symbolically closed on their relationship.  He was drawn to the window, and the tiny bright speck that was the Gala, hanging in space forty thousand kilometers from the Enterprise.  As he watched the Guild ship, he wondered what kind of a man it was that could affect her so deeply, from so far away.

****

The negotiations between the Guild and the Romulan Empire were not going well.  In fact, Data did not believe that there was any hope whatever of successfully negotiating a settlement to the dispute, and was quickly coming to the conclusion that neither side had any intention of making any concessions to the other.  Both Commander Srelal, and Dr. McLaughlin, had stated their positions forcefully at the outset, and since then, had not altered their initial fervor in defending their own particular point of view.

McLaughlin contended that all his actions had been based on the fundamental precept that the Guild had the right to defend themselves.  He further claimed, and Data knew from the Romulan's own computer records that this was true, that in each and every engagement between the Guild and the Imperial Fleet, the Guildsmen had attempted to communicate with the Romulan vessels and dissuade them from attacking. McLaughlin's conclusion was that the Romulan's had nobody to blame for the loss of their warships but themselves, and the Guild bore no responsibility for those losses.

Srelal's opinion of the conflict was even more intransigent.  The Guild had infringed on Romulan territorial boundaries and was therefore subject to Romulan law, period.  Which in this case was clear, the Gala must either be surrendered to the Imperial Fleet or destroyed!

In Data's opinion, neither position was very conducive to negotiation.  And what had started as
an intellectual challenge for him, was quickly becoming an exercise in futility!

Srelal had come to the same conclusion, but was much less philosophical about it than the android. Perhaps the Ko'Leur's captain was right, she thought,  the only way to deal with humans was to kill them on sight!  She would certainly have no compunctions regarding the death of this particular human!  Doctor McLaughlin, as he preferred to be called, was the most arrogant, self-righteous, inflexible human she had ever seen or heard of!  Her first inclination, to kill him in the shuttle bay when he first came on board the Enterprise, had not diminished in the least.  On the contrary, if ever there was a human being that needed killing, it was this one!

Srelal seriously considered activating the emergency transponder imbedded beneath the skin of her wrist, and having herself beamed off the Enterprise.  She was reasonably confident that the transport could be successfully completed, even though  the Enterprise had her shields up.  After all, the engineers aboard the Ko'Leur had been studying the Federation ship's defensive shield grid for the better part of two days, and should have been able to plot the time-delay factor during which the shield recycled. The only thing that prevented her from ending this fiasco here and now, was the imminent prospect of war with the Federation, should Picard be forced into making a choice between defending the Gaia or withdrawal.  Srelal suspected she knew what choice Picard would make, and that choice would not be in the best interests of the Empire!

"As you can see, Commander Data," she said, delaying the decision she had come to view as almost inevitable. "Doctor McLaughlin has no interest in negotiating!  All he has done for the past forty minutes is recite the litany of self-defense, self-defense, self-defense!"

"The facts speak for themselves, Commander!" McLaughlin shot back.  "It was your warship that opened fire on the Gaia without provocation!"

"Your presence was provocation enough!" Srelal retorted.

"Our presence was an accident, Commander Srelal," McLaughlin replied in a more subdued tone.  "The last thing we expected was to leave one combat zone, and find ourselves in the middle of another."

What did he mean? Srelal thought.  Leave one combat zone?  Who were they in combat against before they engaged us?  She had the vague sense that there might be some advantage to be gained by McLaughlin's statement, but she needed clarification   ''An accident?  Excuse me if I find it a little difficult to believe that you could accidentally cross the whole of the Romulan Empire without being detected, Doctor!"

McLaughlin smiled.  "We managed to go in the opposite direction without being detected, Commander.  The only way you've been able to track us so far, is by finding the battered hulks of your destroyed warships that litter the route of our extraction from Romulan space!"

It was a very calculated insult.  Srelal saw that immediately, and she wondered why McLaughlin found it necessary to resort to such an obvious tactic?  He's hiding something, she thought, but what?

Data found it fascinating that McLaughlin's jibe did not affect Commander Srelal the way he thought it would.  He fully expected the Romulan officer to take offense at the Guildsman's casual dismissal of her race's technology.  But her reaction was muted at best, and to him that was cause for grave concern.  Romulans were not noted for their ability to take an insult graciously, he thought.  A more typical reaction would have been for Srelal to kill McLaughlin where he sat!  The fact that she restrained herself from taking any precipitous action, could only mean that she had detected some weakness that she sought to exploit.

Data sat at the head of the conference table, and considered the best way to proceed.  As a Starfleet officer, it was his duty not to reveal the secret of the Guild ship's propulsion system.  However, as an impartial arbiter, he felt that the veil of secrecy surrounding the hyper-warp drive was an impediment to the negotiations being successfully concluded.  It was quite clear to him that the Romulans would settle for nothing less than the destruction of the Gaia, but they might be persuaded to allow it's crew to return to Federation space unharmed.  On the other hand, if Commander Srelal was to learn of the hyper-warp propulsion system by accident, she might conclude that the whole negotiating process was nothing more than an elaborate Federation ploy to deny such advanced technology to the Empire. In which case, Data thought, the Imperial Fleet would demand that the Gaia, and her crew, not fall into the hands of the Federation, and Srelal would probably try to take by force what she could not achieve by negotiation.

The conundrum Data faced, whether to place his duty as a member of the Enterprise's crew above that of his role as impartial arbiter, strained his philosophical program parameters to their absolute limits.  Added to his burden, was the fact that his Commanding Officer had given him a direct order to act in a completely impartial manner, as far as the negotiations between the Guild and the Romulan Empire were concerned.  It was a fundamental conflict that could not be easily addressed, and so he decided to seek the guidance of someone he trusted implicitly when needing advice on matters of personal ethics. He would ask Counselor Troi for her opinion on which role, that of Starfleet officer or mediator, should take priorty in his present situation.

The decision made, Data offered a suggestion. "This might be a good time to hold a brief recess," he said, directing his remark to Dr. McLaughlin. "Perhaps, that would give the two of you some time to develop concrete proposals on how this conflict miqht be brought to a peaceful resolution," he added.

Srelal was pleasantly surprised by the stern tone of voice the android used to address the human sitting across from her.  He really is impartial, she thought, pleased that Picard had agreed to her suggestion of having Commander Data conduct the negotiations.  The recess would also give her time to analyse this sense she had that McLaughlin was hiding something.  "I agree to the recess, Commander," she said.

"As do I," McLaughlin replied shortly, apparently not too pleased by Data's manner of singling him out as an obstacle to the settlement of the conflict.

"Very well," Data concluded.  "We will adjourn for twenty minutes."

***

Chapter Eighteen

McLaughlin was staring out the floor to ceiling windows of the observation lounge, taking in the view of the starfield, when Picard walked into the room.  He turned at the sound of the door 
sliding open.  There was a guarded look in his eyes, Picard thought, as if the session with Data and Srelal had surprised him in some way, and now he wasn't sure if the Enterprise's Captain could be completely trusted.  

"You wanted to see me, Captain Picard.  Here I am."

The greeting was delivered with little warmth, Picard noted.  Data must be exercising his impartiality to the best of his considerable ability, he thought. McLaughlin did not sound at all pleased.  "Yes, Doctor," he began.  "I thought it important that we have a discussion regarding your guests, Saavik and Spock."

"I see," the Guildsman replied.  "I have no intention of using them as a bargaining chip, if that's what you're worried about, Captain."

Picard shook his head negatively.  "That is not what concerns me, Doctor.  I don't believe for a moment you are the type of man that would use innocent people as hostages," he stated emphatically.  "But the presence of Spock and Saavik aboard the Gaia creates some very grave difficulties for the Federation."

"Such as?" McLaughlin asked sharply.

The question put Picard on the horns of a dilemma. How much of Federation history, particularly Spock and Saavik's part in that history, could McLaughlin be told without jeopardizing the very thing that Picard sought to protect... the past.  He had just faced the same dilemma in sick-bay, and on Saavik's advice, had chosen to tell Spock nothing of his future, but he knew that wouldn't work with this man.  Before McLaughlin accepted the necessity of the proposal he was about to make to him, Picard would have to offer some justification for it. Some very convincing justification!  "Before I answer your question, Doctor.  I would like you to answer one of mine."

"Ask it!"

"Saavik tells me that you encountered the Enterprise NCC-1701, in the Sol system, in the year 2032."  Picard paused, before asking.  "Could you find your way back to that specific point in the space-time continuum?"

"Possibly," McLaughlin replied ambiguously.' "The question is, why should I want to?"

"Yes," Picard acknowledged.  "That is the crux of the matter, isn't it?  Why should you want to?"

"I assume you're about to tell me why, Captain. Please get on with it!"

Picard smiled, appreciating the man's direct approach.  "The Spock that you know holds the rank of Commander, and is First Officer of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701," he said.  "The Spock that I know, Dr. McLaughlin, is a Federation ambassador, responsible for the successful negotiation of several peace treaties, without which the Federation as I know it, might not exist."

"The Saavik you know," he continued.  "Is a cadet-trainee presently in her fourth year at Starfleet Academy.  The Saavik that I knew, was the Captain of the Federation starship Potemkin, and later Admiral, and Chief of Operations at Starfleet Command."

McLaughlin was silent for a moment, then he asked. "Is Centurion Saalesh, really Saavik's daughter?"

Picard nodded.  "Yes... Dr. Crusher has just run a bio-genetic scan that confirms it.  Saalesh is the daughter of Saavik and Spock."

"I see," McLaughlin said quietly, and then smiled.  "I like Saavik very much.  She reminds of Quyen Ky... the same fire beneath the ice," he finished wistfully.

"Then Quyen Ky must have been a remarkable woman," Picard said.

"Yes... yes, she was," McLaughlin replied, his voice strained.

"Data tells me that Ky was the mathematician who came up with the gravimetric signature formula.  I understand she was killed in the United Nations attack on the Guild compound."

"She was much more than a mathematician, Picard... She was also my wife," McLaughlin said, turning again to stare out the window.

Picard didn't know what to say. He had no idea that Ky had been McLaughlin's wife, and now he was sure that it had been a mistake to bring her up. It could only hurt McLaughlin to speak of his dead wife, and Picard had no desire to open up old wounds for this man.  "I'm sorry, Doctor.  I didn't know," he apologized lamely.

"It's all right, Captain," McLaughlin said, turning to face him.  "She died sixteen years ago, I've made my peace with the ghost of Quyen Ky."

As I thought I had made my peace with the ghost of Saavik, Picard thought.  But now I have to relive an experience I thought was long behind me.  Sixteen years, he mused   It was also sixteen years ago that Saavik's ship, the Congo, went missing.  Then he realized that McLaughlin was speaking in relative terms. The mathematician, Quyen Ky, had actually died more than three centuries before Picard took command of the Stargazer.  The United Nations attack on the Guild's base had happened three-hundred and fifty one years ago!

I am speaking to a man who should have died three centuries ago, Picard thought, and yet, here he stands. How extraordinary, that so much should hinge on the decisions that this man makes in the next few hours.  The very existence of the Federation may depend on a man who has spent his whole life challenging the authority of the state.  Who has made a career of carving his own path, and damn the consequences!  And now I must convince that same man to sacrifice everything for the good of an alliance that he has no real connection to.  Would he do it?  Would I do it, if our roles were reversed?  There was only one way to find out.

"Doctor McLaughlin, it is absolutely essential that Spock and Saavik be returned to their own place in the space-time continuum," he began.  "Spock has told me that their original intention was to remain here, in this time, but that is impossible. At this moment," Picard continued.  "Spock, Ambassador Spock, is on the Romulan home-world trying to bring about the reunification of the Vulcan and Romulan peoples.  If he is successful, it could mean the beginning of whole new era of peace and prosperity in this quadrant of the Galaxy."

"Important work, no doubt," McLaughlin conceded.

"Very important work," Picard agreed, and then pressed on.  "But there cannot be two Spock's. If the natural balance is not restored, eventually, both of them will die!"

"The paradox of non-linearity,"  McLaughlin said, nodding with understanding.  "I am familiar with the concept, Captain.  What exactly are you proposing?"

Again, Picard appreciated the man's directness. "The Gaia must attempt to return to the point in the space-time continuum where you encountered the first Enterprise," he stated unequivocally.

"Are you aware of the problems with the navigation formula?" McLaughlin asked.  "There is no way to guarantee that if we made the attempt, it would be successful," he continued.  "You may well be sending Spock and Saavik back to a certain death!"

"I don't believe that to be the case, Doctor," Picard responded.  "There is strong circumstantial evidence to support the notion that the Gaia did return to the point where it encountered the first Enterprise, and that second encounter is already a part of the historical record."

"What kind of evidence?"

"Spock's continued existence for one thing,"

Picard replied.  "Also, there is the matter of Centurion Saalesh's familiarity with the layout of your vessel.  She believes that as a child she inadvertantly absorbed the memories of her mother, memories of the time Saavik spent aboard the Gaia."

McLaughlin was silent, considering what Picard had said.

"Then of course," Picard continued. "There is my own experience with Saavik."

"A moment ago, you spoke of Saavik in the past tense," McLaughlin observed.  "Am I to take it, that the Admiral Saavik you spoke of is no longer alive."

Picard nodded, a pained expression flickering across his face.  "She was lost while commanding a survey vessel along the Romulan Neutral Zone sixteen years ago," he confirmed.

"This experience with Saavik, Captain," McLaughlin queried.  "Tell me about it."

"If it weren't for Saavik, I would never have had a career in Starfleet.  When I was an Ensign, waiting at a Federation starbase for assignment to my first deep-space posting, I was involved in an incident that almost caused my death," Picard explained.  "I challenged a group of Norsicans to
a brawl, and ended up with a knife through my heart."

"You don't strike me as a brawler, Picard," McLaughlin commented.

"I wasn't!  The Norsicans proved that quite conclusively I'm afraid, but I was a cocky little bastard, quite full of myself really."

McLaughlin smiled.  "A trait many young men share, Captain.  Including myself," he admitted freely.

"Yes... well, suffice it to say, Starfleet Command takes a dim view of junior officers who exercise such poor judgement," Picard said.  "After I recovered from my wound, I fully expected to be court-martialed, and dismissed from service."

"Go on, Captain."

"At that time, Saavik was a Lieutenant Commander, serving as First Officer of the starship Potemkin.  As I said earlier, she was later to command that vessel, but as First Officer one of her primary duties was crew assignment, and discipline." Picard took a deep breath before continuing.  "When I was deemed fit enough to return to duty, I was ordered to report to Saavik aboard the Potemkin. I was expecting a court-martial, but instead I received confirmation of my commission, and a permanent billet on the Potemkin."

Seeing McLaughlin's look of incomprehension, Picard said.  "Don't you see?  I think the reason Saavik didn't have me court-martialed, was because she knew that her existence depended on my one day achieving the rank of Captain, and helping her, and Spock, return to their own time.  For her, these events had already happened!"

McLaughlin finally grasped what Picard was getting at.  "There is still the little problem of the Romulans, Picard.  How do you propose to circumvent them?  I get the distinct impression that Commander Srelal will not sit idly by, while the Gaia engages it's stellar drive, and disappears!"

"In that respect, you are quite correct, Doctor," Picard acknowledged.  "However, I think that a method can be found to satisfy the Romulan requirements, and our own."

"I can hardly wait to hear this," McLaughlin murmured sarcastically.

Picard pulled out a chair at the conference table. "Sit down, Doctor, and I'll tell you exactly what I have in mind."

McLaughlin hesitated, eyeing the proferred chair warily.  "Why is it that it occurs to me I am making a choice between the Devil and the deep blue sea, Picard?" he said, before taking the chair that the Enterprise's Captain offered him.

Picard himself took the chair opposite McLaughlin's, so that the two of them were facing each other across the table.

"Now, Doctor," Picard began, leaning forward conspiratorially.  "This is my plan ..."

****

Data was the last person Troi expected to see on her doorstep, and frankly, she wasn't that enthusiastic about letting him invade her privacy.  The breaking of the bond between her and Riker had left Troi weak, adrift on the sea of her own solitude for the first time in years, and it was a disorienting experience.

"Counselor," Data said, when she opened the door. "I have need of your services."

"What is it, Data?" Troi asked lethargically, barely concealing her discomfort at Data's sudden appearance.

"May I come in, Counselor?" Data asked hesitantly, perhaps sensing that Troi did not wish to be disturbed.

What am I doing? Troi thought.  Data wouldn't disturb me unless it was important.  "I'm sorry, Data, of course.  Come on in."

"Thank you, Counselor," the android said, moving past her and taking a seat on the couch in her living room.

Troi stood where she was for a moment, gathering her strength.  Whatever else was going on, she had a job to do, and she couldn't let her personal problems get in the way of her duty.  She reached out with her mind, briefly touching the presence that was Kevin O'Donnell on the Gaia, taking comfort from the contact.  Then she followed Data into the living room and took a seat on the sofa beside him.

"So, Data," she began, forcing a smile.  "What can I do for you?"

"I find myself in a quandary, Counselor," Data said without further preamble.  "I sense a conflict developing between my duty as Second Officer of the Enterprise, and my role as impartial arbiter of the Romulan Empire's dispute with the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild."

"Oh... What sort of conflict?"

"I possess knowledge which is not available to Commander Srelal, and which would, if she knew about it, substantially increase her leverage in these negotiations."

"I see," Troi responded quietly, beginning to develop a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"If the Romulans were to discover the secret of the Guild ship's propulsion system, the hyper-warp drive, I am sure it would heavily influence the way in which these talks are viewed by the Romulan High Command," Data continued.  "If I do not divulge the existence of the hyper-warp drive, and Commander Srelal were to obtain this information by other means, the Romulans would most likely come to the conclusion that the whole negotiating process is a sham, designed to prevent the hyper-warp propulsion system from falling into their hands."

"Do you think the Romulans would negotiate with Dr. McLaughlin at all if they thought he was in possession of such technology, Data?" Troi asked thoughtfully, masking the dread with which she viewed the prospect of Commander Srelal being told about the Gaia's propulsion system.

"I do not believe that is the issue, Counselor," Data replied dispassionately.  "If I am to act in an impartial manner, I must let the Romulans themselves decide whether or not the negotiations are in the best interests of the Empire."

Troi thought rapidly, trying to come up with some rationale that would appeal to Data's sense of duty, anything that would prevent him from telling Srelal about the hyper-warp drive.  "Isn't it also true, Data, that technically, the Federation and the Romulan Empire are at war."

"A technical state-of-war does exist," Data conceded. "But the cease-fire in that war has lasted for more than fifty-two years," he pointed out.  "Besides which, Captain Picard has given me a direct order to be impartial, and so the state of relations between the Federation and the Empire is irrelevant in this situation."

"Are you sure, Data?"

"No, Counselor, I am not sure," Data admitted. "Which is why I am seeking your counsel on this matter."

"How do you feel about it, Data?" Troi asked, putting special emphasis on the word 'feel'.

Data's face took on a puzzled expression.  "I do not 'feel' anything, Counselor," he replied. "Feelings are beyond the capabilities of my programming."

Troi shook her head in exasperation.  "That's not what I meant, Data!"  Seeing his confused look, Troi tried to explain herself.  "Look, Data, if you didn't have a problem with the orders that the Captain gave you, you wouldn't be here, correct."

Data slowly nodded his head in the affirmative, acknowledging the truth of the Counselor's statement.

"Therefore," she continued.  "You must have 'felt' that there was something wrong with the order that Captain Picard gave you, some inherent flaw, that is causing this ethical conflict that you perceive."

Data's face became suffused with a glimmer of comprehension.  "So if I am to understand you correctly, Counselor.  What you are saying, is that on a subconscious level, I already know the answer to the question I have put to you.  Even though, I do not possess a sub-conscious at all, at least in the conventional sense."

"Exactly, Data!" Troi answered enthusiastically, hoping Data really did get the point she was trying so hard to make.  She decided, that for safety's sake, she had better clarify her statement so there could be no mistaking how she 'felt'.  "This is not some theoretical exercise in ethics, Data, this is reality!  In the real universe that you and I have to live in, would it be in anyone's interest for the Romulan Empire to possess the secret of the hyper-warp drive?"

"No, Counselor," Data replied.  "I am forced to conclude that it would not.  Based on an analysis of the relevant historical evidence, it is likely that the Romulans would use the hyper-warp propulsion system, in conjunction with their cloaking technology, to further their goals of conquest."

Troi felt a sense of relief flood through her. Data had understood what she was getting at, she thought. Quietly elated that she had been able to influence his thinking, and taking satisfaction from the simple pleasure of being ship's Counselor on the Enterprise.  She really couldn't imagine doing anything else with her life, and it suddenly came to her, that whatever type of relationship developed between her and Kevin O'Donnell, it would have to be able to accommodate her duties on the Enterprise   She finally realized that she belonged here, that in a real sense, this was her home, and she was unwilling to give it up.

Data stood up, preparing to leave.  "Thank you for your help, Counselor."

"You're welcome, Data," she said, smiling up at him.  "I'm glad I was able to help."

Data nodded his goodbye and left, leaving Troi to ponder the significance of their talk.  As the door closed behind him, Troi murmured to herself, "Thank you, Mr. Data."

****

Srelal was still mystified, although she had been working on the problem since the negotiations had adjourned for the short recess.  What was McLaughlin hinting at, she wondered?  How did they manage to get to the other side of Romulan space without being detected?  If what Picard said about their origins was true, then the Guildsmen must have been out here for more than three hundred years!  Why hadn't the Imperial Fleet encountered the Guild Ship long before this?

Srelal called up an image of the Gaia on the computer terminal.  There must be a clue here somewhere, but where?  As she stared at the monitor, rotating the image, changing the perspective from which she viewed the Guild ship, it occurred to her that the vessel was in exceedingly good shape, considering it's advanced age.  The oldest ship in the inventory of the Imperial Fleet had been in service for one hundred fifty years, she thought, and showed the scars of every one of those years!

The Guild ship looked positively pristine by comparison.  How was that possible?  Could the Guild shielding, as radical as it's design appeared to be, really explain the Gaia's condition.  After all, she thought, space was the harshest of environments. Even with an exceptional shield array, there should be some degradation of the space-frame over the course of three centuries!  Even these Guildsmen, with their magical technology, could not defeat the vagaries of time.  A three hundred year old space-craft should look three hundred years old, shouldn't it?

****

Geordi was sitting at the Chief Engineer's station when Captain Picard walked into Main Engineering. The staff ignored him, as they had been trained to do.  The presence of a senior officer, even the Captain, was no excuse to relax their vigilance in monitoring the most important system on the Enterprise. If the Captain had asked one of them directly for a report, they would of course have answered him, but that type of occurrence was extremely rare. Picard was the kind of Captain who let his people do their jobs without any interference, and the only time that changed was if there was some problem that he felt rqquired his direct intervention. Again, a thankfully rare occurrence.

"Mr. LaForge," Picard said, coming up beside him.  "A word in private, if you please."

"Yes, Sir," LaForge replied.  "Lieutenant Barclay, take over for me here."

"Aye, Sir," the junior engineer responded, moving to take LaForge's place at the console.

Picard followed LaForge into the Engineer's office, located just off Main Engineering, and waited until the transparent doors slid shut behind them before speaking.  "Mr. LaForge, I need to know the feasibility of transferring a quantity of anti-matter over to the Gaia?"

"Anti-deuterium slush is volatile stuff, Captain," LaForge cautioned.  "We usually don't screw around with it unless we're at a refueling facility."

"I'm aware of that, Mr. LaForge," Picard replied irritably.  "But surely there is a procedure for emergency transfer of limited quantities from our storage tanks."

LaForge thought for a moment before responding. "How limited a quantity of anti-matter are we talking about?" he asked.

Picard referred to a padd he was carrying.  "One point six two, cubic meters, at standard dynamic pressure."

"That's a bit more than we usually transport in standardized containment vessels," LaForge pointed
out.  "It is possible, Captain, but we would have to construct a non-standard containment vessel to take that exact quantity.  We'd also have to make extensive modifications to one of the transporters, preferably in cargo-bay four, to minimize the risk in the event of a containment breach during the transfer.  That much anti-deuterium, if we lost containment, would create a very large hole where the Enterprise used to be!"

"I understand your concern, Geordi," Picard acknowledged. "But in this instance, I believe that the risks are justified.  How long would it take you to make the necessary transporter modifications, and be ready for the transfer?"

"The pattern buffers, power transfer conduits, and both transporter emitter arrays, will have to be realigned, and a containment vessel manufactured. You're looking at two and half hours, minimum!"

"Very well, get to it, Mr. LaForge.  I doubt that I can give you much more than three hours, everything has to be in place by then."

As Picard turned to go, Geordi stopped him. "There's one other thing we have to consider, Captain."

Picard turned.  "What's that, Mr. LaForge?"

"Normally, this type of procedure would be a pad to pad transport, with verified containment at both ends of the cycle..."

"Go on."

"Transporting to the Gaia means we have one end open.  If they lose containment on their end, our transporter will automatically recycle, and we'll have one point six two, cubic meters of anti-deuterium materializing on the pad in cargo bay four, without the containment vessel!"

"Is there no way to override the automatic cycle?" Picard asked quietly.

Geordi shook his head.  "I'm afraid not.  We'd have to rewire the whole transporter circuit to bypass the automatic reset."

Picard's face took on a grim look.  "Understood, Commander.  Carry on!"

"Yes, Sir," Geordi replied, as Picard turned on his heel and left the office, leaving him to ponder the consequences of a single missed step during the transport of the anti-matter to the Gaia.

"LaForge to Barclay." 

"Yes, Commander?"

"Step into my office, Reg.  I have a project for you to work on."

"On my way, Sir!"

****

As she watched her father at work, Saalesh was reminded of S'dar.  This Spock displayed the same cold efficiency as the Excalibur's Science Officer, and none of the warmth she had come to associate with the man she knew on the Romulan home-world as her father.  That Spock's logic was tempered with an obvious compassion, Saalesh thought.  A compassion that seemed to be lacking here, her mother's assertions to the contrary, notwithstanding.  Although he knew that she was Saavik's daughter, he barely acknowledged her existence.  Admittedly, he did not know he was Saalesh's father, that information had been kept from him at Saavik's request, but she was still illogically hurt by his aloofness.

I am being childish, Saalesh thought.  She knew that at this point in his life her father had eschewed all things human, in what was to be a futile effort to become a perfect Vulcan.  That was a part of her parent's history that Saalesh was familiar with, having been told as a child of her father's struggle with his humanity.  A struggle that he was to wage, with limited success, until the death of his own mother forced him to acknowledge the existence of his emotionally driven human psyche.  A revelation that this Spock wasn't fated to make for another sixty years!

Saalesh remembered her mother speaking fondly of Amanda, Sarek's first human wife, and the mother of Spock.  Amanda was the only human to ever be accepted as an adept of the Kohlinharu, the only human whose katra now resided in the Hall of Ancient Thought, beneath the sacred mountain of Seleya.

It was her death, twenty-five years before Saalesh was born, that had finally brought her parents to acknowledge their deep feeling for each other, feelings that went far beyond the student-teacher relationship Saavik professed to have with Spock at this time in their lives.

But all that was still to come, Saalesh thought. Unless they could be successfully returned to the place in the space-time continuum  where the Gaia had encountered the first Enterprise, none of it would happen!

She looked across the room to her mother, sitting at another computer terminal, surprised to find that Saavik was staring at her with a strange intensity. Saalesh thought she saw understanding there, as if her mother knew that Spock's attitude had hurt her, and she was trying to communicate some of that understanding without actually speaking.  Saavik's gaze moved to Spock, and Saalesh saw some of her own hurt reflected in her mother's eyes.  She loves him, she thought.  Even now, she's in love with him, and he is completely oblivious.  How sad, that she should have to wait so long, when they could have so much more time together if he only knew how she felt.

Spock must have detected the scrutiny of the two women, because he chose that moment to turn around, one eyebrow arched in an expression of inquiry. "Is there something which troubles you, Saavikam?" he asked, using the Vulcan diminutive of Saavik's name.

"This whole experience troubles me greatly, Commander Spock," Saavik replied.  "I find myself wondering if we are not changing the past by simply being on board this Enterprise."

"A fascinating question," Spock said.  "But if Captain Picard and the Centurion are correct, these events are already a part of history, our history." As Spock spoke this last sentence, his gaze shifted
to Saalesh, and for just a second his expression changed, as if he saw something in Saalesh's face that was unexpected.

"What is it, Commander?" Saalesh asked, unerved by the look that flickered across his face.

Spock shook his head, as if in denial.  "It is nothing, Centurion.  Perhaps I am beginning to suffer the effects of the paradox, but for a moment, your face reminded me of Amanda... my mother."

****

"Captain, we are being hailed by the Hood," Lieutenant Worf said, and then with a trace of surprise,  "It is an unsecured channel."

"On screen, Mr. Worf," Picard responded, his curiosity piqued by such an uncharacteristic move on the part of the security conscious DeSoto.

Worf complied with Picard's order, and DeSoto's figure replaced that of the exterior view.  As usual, slouchedinhiscommand chair, the picture of calm. "I have some good news, Jean-Luc."

"We could use some good news," Picard replied warily.  "What is it?"

"I've just been in communication with one my contacts on the Federation Council.  It seems that Admiral Turner has been placed under arrest."

"Really?  That is good news."

DeSoto smiled.  "It gets better," he said, his eyes twinkling.  "You and I aren't going to be courtmartialed."

"That's a relief."

"Yes, it seems the Council took a dim view of Turner's plan to get us into a shooting war with the Romulan Empire," DeSoto said, matching Picard's deadpan response.  "It's conceivable, that instead of being cashiered, we'll be up for commendations all around," he continued lightly.

"How gratifying," Picard replied somewhat sarcastically, knowing full well that DeSoto was being facetious.  In all likelyhood, Picard thought realistically, this whole incident would be buried so deep that no record of it happening would ever see the light of day.  The last thing the Council would do, was to have the principals of the operation publicly decorated, especially considering the fact that the crisis was in no way resolved.  In fact, he thought, if things went very wrong, there was still the imminent possibility of war staring them in the face!

If only McLaughlin can do his part, and convince Commander Srelal that his offer is genuine, Picard thought.  The timing was critical, but with luck, they might be able to pull it off.  Hopefully, with the Romulan Imperial Fleet being none the wiser.

"I thought you might appreciate the irony, JeanLuc," DeSoto continued, feigning dismay at Picard's less than charitable attitude toward the Federation's top bureaucrats.

Picard did appreciate, as always, DeSoto's ability to put things in perspective, but in this instance, Robert was not completely in the picture, and for the other Captain's own sake, he had no intention of enlightening him.  "The fickle nature of bureaucrats and politicians never ceases to dismay me, Robert," he said.  "The next communication you receive from the Federation Council might very well be ordering us to Earth to hand over our commands."

"Nothing so drastic, I hope!" DeSoto quipped. "I was planning on spending a few more years in the command chair, before accepting a well-deserved promotion to Admiral."

Picard smiled in spite of himself.  "Stay sharp, Robert."

"As always, old friend," DeSoto smiled back. "Hood out!"

***

Chapter Nineteen

Data decided that the best way to proceed was to bring the negotiations to a head quickly.  He seriously doubted that any compromise solution would appeal to both Commander Srelal, and Dr. McLaughlin, but he intended to propose one in any case.  He was not about to give up, just because the problem seemed to be insurmountable.

He knew that the Romulans set great store by the concept of blood vengeance, and he thought that this could be used as a negotiating concept.  How the human leader of the Inter-Planetary Guild would view Data's proposal was another matter entirely. Although the idea of blood vengeance had deep roots in the ancient cultures of Earth, a man such as Charles McLaughlin was unlikely to appreciate the, admittedly brutal, elegance of such a tradition. However, if Data could convince the Guild leader to co-operate, there was a reasonable chance that most of the Gala's crew could be saved without further bloodshed.  Something that might appeal to McLaughlin's deep sense of responsibility for his people.

Srelal didn't see much point in continuing to negotiate with the Guild leader.  It was a colossal waste of time, she thought.  This human could never understand the outrage his ship's passage through Romulan space had caused among the leadership of the Empire.  It was beyond his intellectual capabilities to appreciate the leadership's absolute requirement for vengeance   The credibility of the High-Command was at stake, and only blood would pacify them.

Even though she was convinced that Commander Data was acting in a completely impartial manner, Srelal doubted that he could understand the Romulan position either.  Vengeance, was at it's root, an emotionally driven need, and that was something that the android had no experience with.  Emotions, by his own admission, were a mystery to him, so how could she expect him to understand the position she was in?  It therefore, came as quite a shock, when she heard Data outline his proposal.

"I have carefully considered the positions of both parties in this conflict," Data began.  "And it has become obvious that, left to your own devices, it is unlikely that a mutually agreed upon resolution to this conflict can be achieved.  Therefore, acting in my capacity as arbiter of this dispute, I will propose a solution of my own devising, which I feel accommodates the overall objectives of both parties."

Not hearing any objections to his statement, Data continued   "Point one; As I understand the Romulan ritual of blood-vengeance, it is not absolutely necessary that blood be spilled to satisfy the honour requirements of the ritual.  Is my premise substantially correct, Commander Srelal?" he asked.

"Substantially, Commander Data," Srelal acknowledged.  "However, in this instance, I don't believe that these Guildsmen could provide a substitute that would satisfy the honour of the Romulan Empire, and the Imperial Fleet," she added coldly.

Data chose to ignore Srelal's proviso, and move on before she could rally a stronger objection. "Point two;  Dr. McLaughlin, you have stated that the singular objective of the surviving members of the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild, is to return to Earth.  Further, you have made it quite clear that the Guild harbours no hostile intent toward the Romulan Empire or it's organ, the Imperial Fleet.  Correct?"

McLaughlin nodded slowly in agreement.  "Correct, Mr. Data."

"I would also assume," Data continued.  "That everything the Guild possesses in the way of resources, is at this moment on board the Gaia.  True?"

Again, McLaughlin nodded, acquiescing in the truth of Data's supposition.

"Point three;  It could therefore be taken as a maxim, that to destroy the Gaia, would in essence, destroy the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild."

"Just what is it you are suggesting, Commander?" Dr. McLaughlin asked deliberately, his voice low and dangerous.

"I am suggesting, Doctor," Data replied, turning to face the human.  "That it is not necessary for the members of your crew to return to Earth on the Gaia.  We can provide transportation, and assure your safety."

"It is not enough!" Srelal shouted.  "You are asking us to accept the destruction of a single ship as reparation for the loss of twenty-two!  It is outrageous!"

Data addressed his next remark to the Romulan Commander.  "Do you have a counter-proposal, Commander?"

"My counter-proposal is this," Srelal fumed. "That the Guild ship, and it's crew, be turned over to the Empire intact!  To dispose of as we see fit!"

"That is out of the question," Data replied reasonably.  "It is illogical to assume that you can achieve by negotiation, what you could not achieve by force."

"Logic has little to do with it, Commander!" Srelal shot back.  "The alternative is war'"

"Might I remind you, Commander Srelal," Data said,  "That it is the Romulan Empire who has violated the Neutral Zone Treaty by deploying gravitic mines within five hundred kilometers of the Federation boundary.  If anyone has committed an act of war, it is the Imperial Fleet."

"Oh!  And what about the illustrious Admiral Turner, who was intending to launch a surprise attack against the Empire?  Are we to ignore such a provocation, and continue on as if nothing has happened?"

"That danger is no longer relevant to these discussions, Commander," Data replied.  "Captain Picard has already offered an explanation, and had you not been taken into the Captain's confidence, you would have had no knowledge of Turner's plan."

"I beg to differ, Commander!  If not for my exposing Commander McFadden's secret agenda, and Centurion Saalesh's testimony, Picard would never have deduced the Admiral's plan!"

"That is also irrelevant to these discussions," the android responded.  "My proposal is this. That the crew of the Gaia be transported to one of the Federation starships, following which, the Guild vessel will be powered down, and your warships will destroy it."

Would that be enough to satisfy the High-Command, Srelal wondered?  She was tempted to accept Data's proposal.  On the face of it, the objectives of her mission would be fulfilled, but there was one glaring problem.  The Guildsmen themselves.  What they did once, they could do again, and the Empire could never allow the Federation to possess such radically advanced technology!

On the other hand, Srelal admitted to herself, neither would the Federation willingly allow such technology to fall into the hands of the Romulan Empire.  Therefore, Data was right, it was implausible to expect Picard to let her capture the Guildsmen alive.  They could be coerced into duplicating their work by either side, and the only way to prevent that, was to kill every single one of them, and she seriously doubted that Picard would have the stomach for that kind of solution!

She looked over at the human sitting across from her, trying to judge his reaction to Data's proposed solution, but seeing nothing in his face that would indicate one way or the other what he was thinking. A Romulan Captain, put in McLaughlin's position, would never agree to passively accept the destruction of his command, Srelal thought.  It was preferable to die defending one's ship, than surrender!  However, she had no way of judging what a human Captain would accept as honourable behavior.

Unlike some of her compatriots, the Ko'Leur's Captain for one, that believed all humans suffered from a terminal case of cowardice, Srelal was under no such illusions.  She had seen with her own eyes what tenacious warriors these Guildsmen were, how some of them embraced death rather than surrender in the face of overwhelming odds.  In the seven months that the conflict between the Empire and the Guild had been raging, not one Guildsmen had ever been taken prisoner, which was one of the reasons that the High-Command had not had any idea that the Gaia was crewed by humans!

McLaughlin stared back at her, holding her gaze for a moment, before breaking the contact, his expression still unreadable to her.  Srelal had no desire to continue the war with these Guildsmen, and although she had stated the case differently to Picard, if she had been in command of the vessel that first encountered the Gaia she would not have fired on them.  With McLaughlin and his people as allies, she thought, we could have defeated the Federation once and for all, but now that opportunity was lost.  Lost, due to the intransigence of fools!

"You have not offered an opinion on Commander Data's proposal, Dr. McLaughlin," Srelal said. "Would you accept the destruction of the Gaia as reparation to the Empire?" she asked, watching
him closely, unable to predict what his reaction would be.

McLaughlin did not answer immediately, instead he got up from the table and walked over to the observation window, staring silently at his ship, visible as only a tiny pinpoint of light.  "Why should I agree to your proposal, Mr. Data?" he finally asked, his voice bitter.  "The Guild gains nothing from surrender'"

"It is not surrender that is required, Doctor," Data replied quietly.  "It is the ability to compromise."

"Compromise," McLaughlin repeated slowly.  "That is a word I truly despise!  Compromise, is what the United Nations called their offer, when they told us that if we didn't turn over our research they would kill us all!" he seethed.  "Call it what you will, Data, what it amounts to is surrender!" he continued, his bitterness unabated.  "You would have me give up everything to save your precious Federation the inconvenience of a war with the Romulan Empire!  What makes you think I care one way or the other what happens to the Federation? Sooner or later, you will have your war anyway, you do not need us as a catalyst for conflict between the Romulans and the Federation!"

"In that you are correct, Doctor," Data agreed. "The conflict between the Empire and the Federation has existed for nearly two centuries, and although your involvement was not required to begin the animosity between us, your role may be pivotal in bringing it to a close."

"Do not presume to place the responsibility for that on my shoulders, Commander," McLaughlin replied angrily.

It was not exactly what Data had meant to do.  Placing the responsibility for ending the hostility between Romulus and the Federation on McLaughlin's shoulders was, he admitted to himself, stretching the bounds of credibility, but the facts were unequivocal.  For the first time in years, representatives of Starfleet and the Romulan Imperial Fleet were sitting at a conference table, attempting to bring a conflict, even if it was not their own, to a peaceful resolution.  The possible repercussions could not be underestimated, in his opinion, particularly if the talks were to end in failure.

What was extremely interesting, from Srelal's point of view, was that McLaughlin had not actually said that Data's proposal was unacceptable.  This gave her the impression that the Guild leader, although he had certainly not said so, might be persuaded to agree to the Federation officer's solution.  It was a concession, albeit one of omission rather than outright acceptance, but she was encouraged nonetheless.  Of course, she needed much more before she could agree to Data's proposal.

"Even if Dr. McLaughlin were to agree to allow us to destroy the Gaia, Commander Data," Srelal said, changing tactics.  "What assurances can you give the Empire that he will not simply return to Earth or some other Federation facility, and build another ship of equal, even superior, capabilities?" she asked.  "A vessel that might pose an even greater threat to our security."

The question was a valid one, Data thought, and one he did not have a ready answer for.  It was impossible to predict what Dr. McLaughlin might do if allowed to return to Earth.  He was still a relatively young man, and the Federation was not in the habit of restricting an individual's freedom to pursue any line of research he chose.

Data had a lingering suspicion that McLaughlin had no intention of returning to Earth, but he was not about to divulge that suspicion to Commander Srelal.  As Counselor Troi had so eloquently pointed out to him, this was not some theoretical exercise in ethics.  Nevertheless, Data was genuinely interested in negotiating a settlement in good faith, and he was troubled by the necessity of keeping some things from the Romulan officer.  He had found out that impartiality, at least total impartiality, was an illusion, even for an android, and he was unsure how this revelation would affect the future performance of his duty.

Data gave Srelal the only answer he could think of, but it sounded hollow, even to him.  "What Dr. McLaughlin may or may not do in the future is not presently at issue, Commander."

"It is certainly at issue as far as the Romulan Empire is concerned, Commander Data!" Srelal said forcefully.

"There is an ancient naval tradition from Earth, Commander Srelal," McLaughlin said.  "A tradition," he continued quietly, "Which  may have some relevance to this situation."	

"What tradition is that, Doctor?" Srelal asked suspiciously.

"The tradition, that a Captain and the vessel he commands, are inseparable, even unto death," McLaughlin replied solemnly.

It was not the kind of statement Srelal expected to hear, and it took her a moment to realize what it was McLaughlin was offering   His own life, and his ship, in return for the lives of his crew!  She would never have credited a human with making such an honourable offer, and it was a gesture which demanded an honourable response.  Srelal locked eyes with the human, seeing the challenge to her own honour in McLaughlin's hard stare, and accepting it.

"How long will it take you to evacuate the Gaia, Doctor McLaughlin?" she asked, rising from the table.

"Two hours."

"That is acceptable," Srelal replied, and then, bowing from the waist, said formally, "You have proven yourself an honourable enemy.  I take my leave of you... die well, Charles McLaughlin."

McLaughlin returned the Romulan officer's bow with one of equal formality, instinctively recognizing the compliment she paid him.  "Commander," he murmured in acknowledgment.

Srelal nodded briefly to Data, then turned on her heel and left the conference room, leaving Data and McLaughlin alone.

****

It was Commander Riker who brought them the news that the negotiations had reached a successful conclusion, but Saalesh felt little joy at the prospect of losing her parents once again.  Particularly, when she was told how the conference had ended, with McLaughlin offering to sacrifice himself and the Gaia, in return for his crew being given safe passage back to Earth!

"Does he intend to sacrifice Spock and Saavik as well?" she asked incredulously, not bothering to conceal the fear she felt for their safety, and in a very real sense, her own as well.

"I don't know what McLaughlin's intentions are, Saalesh," Riker replied honestly.  "But Captain Picard seems satisfied with the outcome of the negotiations, and I can't believe that he would willingly sacrifice Spock and Saavik."

"But they must be returned to their own time!"

"I am aware of that, Centurion!" Riker said harshly, beginning to lose patience with the young Romulan.

Spock and Saavik watched the exchange between Riker and Saalesh without comment, preferring it seemed, to keep their thoughts to themselves. Riker was slightly embarrassed at his outburst, but he was not about to get into an argument with Saalesh concerning the Captains motives in agreeing to McLaughlin's solution.  He had his own opinion, and knowing Picard as well as he did, he thought it likely that the Captain and McLaughlin were planning something.  What... he had no idea.

"Commander Srelal, is leaving the Enterprise, Saalesh, and she requests your presence in Tranporter Room Three," he informed her.

Saalesh's eyes widened in surprise, thinking at first that she had been betrayed, but Riker's next statement allayed that fear.

"Captain Picard will meet you there, and inform Commander Srelal that you have been granted political asylum," he said kindly, seeing the fear in the young woman's eyes, and instantly regretting the harsh tone he had used with her a moment before. Riker looked over at Spock. Commander Spock... he reminded himself, and wondered what the famous Vulcan thought of this volatile young woman who was his daughter.  As far as Riker could tell, the two of them were as different as night and day.  The Vulcan, composed to the point of iciness, whereas the Centurion exercised little effort to control her emotions, or at least that was the way it looked to him.

Then Riker glanced at Saavik, and was shocked by the open hostility he saw reflected in her unflinching stare. They had never met, although Riker had heard interesting stories about her throughout his Starfleet career, especially at the Academy, where Saavik's exploits on both academic and athletic teams, had entered into the realm of legend.

"Cadet Saavik, I'm Commander William T. Riker, the Enterprise's First Officer," he introduced himself.

Saavik was silent, still drilling him with that uncompromisingly belligerent glare, which Riker was at a loss to explain.  What the hell have I done to insult her, he wondered bleakly?

"Well..." Riker continued lamely.  "Perhaps we had better go, Centurion.  The Captain, and Commander Srelal, are waiting.  We might as well get this over with."

"As you wish, Commander," Saalesh replied, her control over her emotions apparently restored.

"Good!" Riker responded, relieved to be getting out of Saavik's way, the feral intensity of her gaze beginning to unnerve him.

****

Spock watched them leave, and then in a mildly critical tone, said, "Your attitude was uncalled for, Saavikam. Commander Riker is not your enemy, and should be treated with the respect due a superior officer."

"I shall endeavor to control myself in the future, Commander Spock," Saavik replied, her voice brittle.

Spock arched one eyebrow.  "That would be best," he observed quietly.  "May I ask what it was about Commander Riker's demeanor that provoked this unprofessional lapse in judgement, Saavik?" he asked.

"I didn't appreciate the way he spoke to Saalesh," she answered bluntly.

"I see... and you took this as a personal insult?"

"Yes, Commander."

Spock was silent for a moment.  "Has it occured to you, Saavikam, that your attachment to the Centurion is rather... premature, considering the fact that you have known her for only a few hours?"

"She is my daughter," Saavik replied quietly, as if that explained her attitude completely.

"True," Spock acknowledged.  "The anti-gen scan has proved that aspect of your relationship quite conclusively.  However, I would submit that your overly protective attitude is illogical.  Chronologically speaking," he continued.  "Saalesh, is at least five years older than you are."

"And...?" Saavik prompted, her tone indicating she wished Spock would get to the point.

"She does not need you to intercede on her behalf with Commander Riker, thereby potentially jeopardizing your own career."

"I do not believe it is within  Riker's power to influence my career one way for the other, Commander Spock," Saavik stated matter-of-factly.

"Perhaps not," Spock replied.  "But it is certainly within my power to influence the rate at which you advance.  I remind you Cadet Saavik, that your performance is still being judged under the original training criteria of your assignment to the Enterprise, and the way you comport yourself here will be a major factor in that evaluation."

"I stand corrected, Commander," Saavik replied shortly, stung by the rebuke.

"Very well," Spock said.  "I trust there is no need to dwell on this subject any longer?"

"No, Commander."

''Your daughter does seem to be an extremely volatile young woman," Spock observed philosophically.

Saavik's nostrils flared briefly.  "She comes by it honestly!"

"Indeed..." Spock replied, his curiosity piqued by Saavik's rather strong response to what he believed was an innocuous enough observation.

****

Srelal was standing on the pad, waiting for her arrival, when Saalesh and Riker came into the transporter room.  Captain Picard was positioned to the left of the control console, while Lieutenant Worf, the Klingon security-chief, stood beside the doorway, never taking his eyes off the Romulan Commander.

"We are leaving, Centurion," Srelal said as soon as Saalesh walked into the room.

"I'm afraid there has been a slight change of plan, Commander Srelal," Picard interjected.  "The Centurion has asked for political asylum, and I have granted her request."

Srelal smiled a bitter little smile.  "I see," she replied shortly.  "I can't say I'm totally surprised.  I suspected she might take the coward's alternative to what awaited her back on board the Ko'Leur.  You are welcome to her, Picard!"

Srelal's flippant attitude toward the loss of one of her officer's struck Picard as being rather odd.  He expected a protest of some sort from the Romulan, and when none appeared to be forthcoming, his suspicions were raised.  "I must say, Commander;" he said.  "I find your reaction to Saalesh's defection, quite surprising."

"How so?" the Romulan asked.

"Well, I would have thought that the loss of a computer expert of Saalesh's abilities would not be taken so lightly by your superiors," Picard responded.

"I have what I came for, Picard," Srelal replied, obviously amused.  "There is no shortage of junior officers in the Imperial Fleet.  I doubt that we'll miss her.  Besides which," she continued with a cruel smile.  "The Centurion has relatives within the Empire that can pay for her treason!"   

"What few relatives I have, Commander," Saalesh spoke up.  "Are not living within the confines of the Romulan Empire!"

Picard noticed how Saalesh emphasized the word 'confines', as if the whole of Romulan civilization could be characterized as nothing more than a giant prison camp.  In Picard's experience, that characterization was not too far off.  For the majority of Romulan citizens, life was little better than a daily struggle for survival, a struggle all too often lost!

"Oh," Srelal replied sarcastically.  "And where are they living, Centurion?"

Saalesh didn't reply to Srelal's question immediately, preferring to relish this small victory over a woman who had tormented her for the better part of two years.  She realized that her father would not approve, but she allowed this very Romulan feeling of triumph to wash over her.  Revenge was something that Spock would find intellectually offensive, and although one part of her wished that she too could view Srelal as dispassionately as he, she knew deep in her soul that this was impossible.

She now understood what Saavik had tried to tell her, that no matter how hard she tried, she could never truly be Vulcan.  Logic alone could not control the passions that drove her.  There was too much of Earth, and Romulus, inside her to ever fully be controlled by the Disciplines.  As her mother before her, she would follow her own path.

"My parents were not Romulan, Srelal," Saalesh said, for the first time not bothering to use the Romulan officer's rank.  "My father is Spock, of Vulcan, and my mother was a Starfleet Admiral."

Srelal knew instinctively that Saalesh was not lying, but if she expected to see a reaction on the older woman's face, she must have been disappointed. Srelal kept her expression blank, concealing the turmoil she was feeling inside.  If the Captain of the Ko'Leur were to find out she had brought a traitor on board, when she transferred from the Ta'Llam to his ship, she would be dead, of that there was no doubt whatsoever!

Perhaps I should ask for asylum as well, she thought to herself ironically, but realized as soon as the thought occurred, that it was not an option she had available to her.  She did have relatives within the Empire, and she could not abandon them so callously.  As much as it offended her sense of honour, she might have to grovel before this traitor, in order to save her own life and the lives of her family.

"So your treason is genetic, rather than intellectual," Srelal hissed.  "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"I expect nothing from you, Srelal," Saalesh replied.  "But I warn you, if our paths should cross again, I will not hesitate to take your life."

It was said with such cold conviction, that Srelal was impressed, in spite of herself.  It was the first time that she could recall Saalesh showing any backbone.  Yes, she thought, this time aboard the Enterprise has certainly had a positive affect on the Centurion's spine, of that there can be no doubt.  How will I explain her not returning to the Ko'Leur is the question?  Surprisingly, it was Picard who offered her a solution.

"Commander Srelal, the Centurion who beamed aboard the Enterprise is, to all intents and purposes, quite dead," he suggested   "For all our sakes, might it not be better to leave it at that?"

Before Srelal could reply, Picard's combadge beeped.  "Picard here."

Data's voice came over the open comm channel. "Captain, the Ko'Leur has moved to within transport range, and Captain Wilson informs us that she is ready to begin transporting the Guild crew off the Gaia."

"Understood!  Tell Captain Wilson to stand by."  Picard closed the channel, and then turned his attention back to Srelal.  "Well, Commander? What's it to be?"

"You're cunning enough to command a Romulan ship, Picard," Srelal said, allowing herself a
tight smile.

"I trust that was intended as a compliment, Commander?"

The Romulan nodded, affirming the Federation officer's impression.  "It was."

"Are we in agreement then?"

"Yes...the Centurion was the victim of an unfortunate accident... while exploring an enemy vessel.  Her body could not be recovered.''       

"I'm glad we understand each other, Commander," Picard replied.  "Has the Ko'Leur transmitted the transport co-ordinates, Chief?" he asked of the officer manning the transporter console.

"Yes, Sir.  They're coming through now." 

"Very well, good-bye Srelal," Picard said.

The Romulan officer made no reply to Picard's polite farewell, all that needed to be said, had already been said.  

Picard nodded   "... Energize, Mr. O'Brian."

The transporter hummed to life as O'Brian stroked the control pad.  There was a brief sparkle, as the effect took hold of Srelal's molecules, and then the Romulan de-materialized.

"Transport complete, Captain.  The Commander is aboard the Romulan ship."

Picard sighed in relief.  That went much better than I expected, he thought.  Now for the next part of the plan.  "Saalesh, come with me.  We have to brief your parents on the next step.  Number One, return to the bridge, and keep an eye on our Romulan friends."

"Aye, Captain," Riker acknowledged, already moving toward the door of the transporter room.

"Then you're not intending to let Srelal destroy the Gaia?" Saalesh asked.

Picard's expression turned grim. "Not bloody likely!"

***

Chapter Twenty

As Picard outlined his plan, he watched Spock's face closely for any indication as to what the Vulcan officer thought of the scheme.  It was impossible to predict with any certainty what Spock thought, his face was as unreadable to Picard as had been the face of the elder incarnation of Spock that he had met on Romulus.  The Vulcan sat calmly, reserving comment until Picard had finished speaking.

As the Captain of the Enterprise concluded his remarks, the briefest flicker of expression crossed Spock's face, and he said, "The timing will be critical, Captain Picard.  There is also the problem of the multiple photon torpedo discharges in the Gaia's immediate vicinity.  The gravimetric field could be subtly altered by the explosions, throwing our calculations out by several orders of magnitude.''

"I don't see that we have any other choice, Commander," Picard replied.  "It is essential that the Romulans believe that the Gaia has been destroyed in their attack."

"That is also a problem," Spock said, challenging the logic of Picard's plan.  "The Romulans will be able to tell from an analysis of the debris field, that the Gaia was not destroyed.  Admittedly," he continued.  "It might take them some time to calculate the relative mass of debris from the three ships, but seeing as they already know the mass of their own cruisers, it is logical to suppose that your attempted deception will be discovered, sooner or later."

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it, Commander.  For now, it is more important that we get you, and Saavik, back to your own place in the space-time contiuum."

Spock turned to Saavik.  "Do you agree with Captain Picard's assessment, Saavikam?" he asked.  "Is it so absolutely critical that we return?"

Saavik deflected Spock's question with one of her own.  "Is it not a maxim of logical analysis, Commander, that the good of the many must outweigh the good of the few?"

"I would accept that statement as a truism of logic," Spock acknowledged.

"Then, in this case, I must conclude that the good of the many, would be best served by our return to our proper place in space-time."

Spock seemed to weigh Saavik's words carefully. In this instance, deferring to his protege's greater understanding of the stakes involved in their return, because of what she had been told by Saalesh.

Picard waited for Spock's decision, knowing that everything hinged on the Vulcan's acceptance of the plan.  They could not force Spock to return to the Gaia, he thought, even if he was convinced that any other course of action would irrevocably alter Federation history, and perhaps the history of the Romulan Empire as well.

"I must re-calculate the gravimetric dynamics," Spock said.  "Taking into account the displacement caused by the discharge of several photon torpedoes."

"Commander Data may be of some value in speeding up those calculations, Commander Spock," Picard replied, relieved that he had decided to go along with Saavik's judgement.  "We have less than an hour and forty-five minutes left, before the Romulans begin their attack."

"Commander Data's help will be greatly appreciated, Captain," Spock responded.

"Commander Data, this is the Captain.  Report to sick-bay, on the double!"

Saalesh didn't know what to think of Captain Picard's plan.  Spock was entirely correct in saying that the timing would be critical!  She didn't think that Srelal would be fooled in the least, and she said as much.  "Your plan will not work, Captain Picard."

"Oh, and why not?" the Enterprise's Captain asked mildly.

"For one thing, the Gaia and the two cruisers are separated by more than seven million kilometers. The Ko'Lleur's sensors will easily be able to distinguish the two debris fields.  Besides which," she continued, "You can hardly expect the Imperial Fleet to be satisfied that the Gaia was destroyed in their attack, when the Guild ship simply disappears at the instant the Ko'Leur's torpedoes explode."

"Once the Gaia is gone, Saalesh," Picard replied. "The satisfaction of the Imperial Fleet is irrelevant to me!"

"You misjudge the Ko'Leur's Captain if you think he will give up so easily.  It is likely, Captain, that when the Gaia disappears he will turn his weapons on the Enterprise and the other Federation ships!"

"The Centurion is quite correct, Captain Picard," McLaughlin interjected from the doorway, having just walked into sick-bay.  "I gave my word of honour to Commander Srelal that I would allow them to destroy the Gaia, and destroy the Gaia they shall!"

Picard turned in surprise.  "You can't be serious, Doctor!"

"I've never been more serious in my life, Captain Picard.  The Gaia will die in the Romulan attack,
as promised!"  Seeing the shocked looks on the faces of Picard and Saalesh, McLaughlin continued in a less strident tone, "The anti-matter I requested you provide is not for the Gaia, Captain.  It is for one of our interceptors, in which is mounted the prototype of the stellar-drive."

"And are you sure this prototype drive unit will function properly, Doctor?" Picard asked. "When I first suggested that you attempt to return to the point in space-time where you encountered Spock's Enterprise, you left the distinct impression that there was some doubt as to whether or not such a journey was possible."

"There is a problem with the Gaia that the smaller interceptor does not suffer from, Captain Picard," McLaughlin replied wearily.

"What problem is that, Doctor?"

McLaughlin sighed.  "When the stellar-drive is engaged, and the Gaia enters hyper-space, what you refer to as a sub-space domain, it's mass begins to change.  Up to a point, this change in mass is predictable..."  McLaughlin frowned, before continuing, "But as power to the drive is increased in fractional amounts, to warp the gravimetric field to a specific signature, the change in the Gaia's mass becomes disproportionate to the strength of the gravimetric field being generated.  In short, the mass variable in our navigation formula becomes chaotic!"

If that was the case, Picard thought, then how could they insure that Spock and Saavik were returned to their proper place?

It was Spock who broke the silence that had descended on them following McLaughlin's revelation.  "Doctor McLaughlin, why do you believe that the smaller vessel will not suffer from the same problem?" he asked.  "Logically, the mass dynamics of any vessel under the influence of a hyper-warp field should be identical."

McLaughlin smiled.  "Having been trained in the laws of conventional physics, I would tend to agree with you, Mr. Spock.  However, for some unknown reason, the conventional laws of physics,
many of which I helped discover while in university, do not apply in this situation.  The drive system installed in the interceptor works exactly as we predicted it would, the Gaia's stellar-drive does not!"

"How do you know for certain that the interceptor's drive system works properly?" Saalesh asked suspiciously.

McLaughlin turned to the young woman, studying her intently for a moment before saying,   "You certainly are your mother's daughter, Saalesh." Then, he continued, "I know it will work properly because I have successfully test-flown the interceptor with the stellar-drive installed."

There was a question lingering at the periphery of Picard's mind, but he couldn't quite bring it into focus.  There was something troubling about McLaughlin's assurances, he thought, something he was not telling them, but what?

All Picard wanted was to return Spock and Saavik to their proper place in the space-time continuum. At this point, he thought, everything else must be of secondary consideration.  He was well aware of the glaring holes in the plan he proposed, and did not need Saalesh to point them out to him. The way he envisioned it, the destruction of the derelict Romulan cruisers was simply a method of momentarily distracting the Romulans from their attack on the Gaia.  He was perfectly cognizant of the fact that Srelal would discover the deception, but that was of less concern to him than the possibility that she might actually destroy the Guild ship before McLaughlin had the opportunity to engage the Gaia's stellar-drive.

But now, Picard thought in agitation, it would seem that Dr. McLaughlin had something entirely different in mind, and that worried him.  Spock was entirely correct, if the mass dynamics of the Gaia became chaotic under the influence of the hyper-warp field, there was no reason to suppose that the same thing wouldn't happen to the interceptor that McLaughlin appeared to have so much faith in.  The immutable laws of physics, were the laws of physics, even in the strange type of universe that Dr. Charles McLaughlin had envisioned in his published papers of three centuries before!

Data's entrance into sick-bay crystallized Picard's vague misgivings into a coherent framework that he could use to challenge McLaughlin's assertion that the prototype drive system performed differently than the one installed in the Gaia itself.  "Dr. McLaughlin," he began, "I would like you to explain to Mr. Data the differences between the two drive systems.  If you can satisfy Data that there is in fact a difference in the performance of the interceptor's stellar-drive, that would give Spock and Saavik a better chance of returning to their own time, I will agree to modify our plans accordingly." "But..." and here Picard's voice took on a note of cold authority,  "If Data is not satisfied with your explanation," he warned.  "You will use the Gaia in your attempt to return them to their proper place in space-time!  Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

McLaughlin's gaze shifted between the Enterprise's Captain, and the android officer standing quietly just inside the doorway, then he smiled without warmth.  "Perfectly clear, Captain.  However, I think it only fair to warn you, that I am not in the habit of taking orders, from you or anyone else!"

"Understood, Doctor," Picard replied, his expression as frigid as McLaughlin's.  "But be advised that I am not in the habit of allowing my orders to be refused."

McLaughlin nodded curtly, recognizing the challenge in Picard's voice, and accepting it.  Then he turned to Data.  "I hope you have an excellent grasp of cutting edge physics, Mr. Data.  Some of what I'm about to tell you, pushes the envelope of abstract mathematics beyond anything you might have imagined."

"I will endeavor to keep up, Doctor McLaughlin," Data replied politely.

"Yes, I'm sure you will.  Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"

"There is a lounge across the hall, Doctor," Picard answered.  "Mr. Data, I will respect your judgement in this matter," he added.  "If you feel that the Doctor is correct, I will go along with you."

"Very well, Captain," Data replied.

"And Data..."

"Yes, Sir?"

"You are to keep your conversation with Dr. McLaughlin private.  I am giving you a formal order not to divulge the particulars of his briefing to anyone, including me, understood?"

Data nodded in acknowledgment.  "Understood, Sir."

Picard watched the two of them walk out of the room, and then turned back to the others.  All three of them were watching him, and he got the impression that they were comparing him to other starship Captain's they had known.  Spock and Saavik no doubt measuring him against the famous Captain James T. Kirk, Saalesh perhaps comparing his command style to those she had witnessed while a member of the Romulan Imperial Fleet.

It was an uncomfortable moment for Picard.  He was again reminded of the fact that he
had once served under Saavik's command, and as Troi had been able to sense earlier, had worshipped her, as only a green ensign can worship a superior officer.

He felt himself blush at the memory, and was further embarrassed by Saavik's cool stare, studying him as if she could tell exactly what he was thinking. He remembered having the same thought some thirty years before, while standing in front of her desk on board the Potemkin, waiting for the axe to fall that would end his career.  She surprised him then, by allowing him to take his commission, and she surprised him again now.

"I shall look forward to serving with you again, Captain Picard."

Her simple statement moved him more than she could possibly know, and he felt a lump in his throat as he replied. "I assure you, Cadet Saavik, the honour will be mine..."

****

When Wilson was first informed that the conference between the Romulans and McLaughlin had reached a successful conclusion, she was pleasantly surprised.  She understood all too clearly that if the Romulans attacked the Guild ship, and the Guildsmen asked for Federation assistance, Captain Picard would have little choice but to intervene.  A risky proposition at best, she thought, and although her ship was not so severely damaged that they couldn't defend themselves, Excalibur's combat effectiveness was somewhat degraded by the fire that had gutted decks three and four.  Therefore, the prospect of engaging an unknown number of Romulan D'Deridex class warbirds, if it came to a fight, held little appeal.

The details of the Romulan-Guild agreement, when she finally learned them, came as a rude shock. Wilson couldn't imagine why Picard would allow the Guild Commander to sacrifice himself, and the Gaia, to placate the Imperial Fleet.  As far as she was concerned, there should have been a better way to end the incident.  After all, it was the Romulans who had violated the Neutral Zone Treaty, by deploying gravitic mines this close to Federation space!

"What's he up to?" she murmured to herself, quietly convinced that Picard was not the type of man who would needlessly sacrifice anyone.

"What is who up to, Captain?" a voice asked from directly behind her.

Wilson whirled her chair around, unaware that S'dar had come up behind her while she had been lost in thought.  "I don't appreciate people sneaking up on me, Commander," she said, tempering her remark with a slight smile.

The last thing S'dar had intended was to 'sneak up' on his commanding officer, and he was about to say so when he noticed that the Captain did not seem to be particularly angry, and was actually
smiling.  A thouroughly disgusting human idiosyncrasy, but one he was familiar with nonetheless, and he recognized that the Captain's comment was made in jest.  "I shall endeavor to give you fair warning in the future, Captain.  Before I approach you unexpectedly," he said, obviously not in the least amused by Wilson's attempt at levity.

S'dar's deliberately frigid response only served to increase Wilson's amusement.  She was actually beginning to like the austere Vulcan officer that she had appointed to take the place of Commander Davis.  When this was all over, she thought impulsively, I'm going to recommend that S'dar be promoted to full Commander, and offer him the permanent position of First Officer.

Wilson kept that thought to herself, however.  For one thing, she wasn't completely sure that S'dar would accept the offer.  Although she was coming to appreciate his apparent aloofness for what it was, cold logic, she was less convinced that the Vulcan appreciated her own style of command.  And if S'dar were to rebuff her offer, she didn't want him to do it before the ship was out of danger.

"I was just thinking aloud, S'dar," Wilson finally said, in response to his original question.  "I was wondering what Captain Picard's real intentions are?  It doesn't make sense to me that he would allow the Romulans to destroy the Gaia, with Dr. McLaughlin on board."

"Dr. McLaughlin would be a valuable asset to the Federation," S'dar acknowledged, somewhat relieved that the Captain had turned the conversation to more serious matters.  "But perhaps both he, and Captain Picard, feel that his death will serve a useful purpose."

A useful purpose, Wilson wondered?  She failed to see any purpose in allowing a brilliant man to die, simply to satisfy the Romulan Commander's need for blood vengeance.  No, that was not it.  There had to be something else, but what?

"How many of the Guildsmen have been brought over so far, S'dar?" she asked.

"One hundred twelve."

Wilson's surprise showed on her face. "Is that all?"

"Yes, Captain," S'dar replied.  "Dr. McLaughlin's Executive Officer, Kevin O'Donnell, insisted that they use their own ships to bring their personnel on board.  Apparently," he continued, obviously finding it strange,  "They don't trust the transporters."

"Is Kevin O'Donnell still on board, or has he returned to the Gaia?" Wilson asked.

"He is still on board, Captain."

"Fine, bring Mr. O'Donnell to my ready room, S'dar," Wilson ordered.  "I wish to have a little talk with him."

S'dar nodded an ackowledgement to the Captain's order.  "As you wish, Captain."  Then he left the bridge.

Christina Wilson hadn't gotten to where she had, by sitting on the sidelines, and letting other people make decisions for her.  And she had no intention of doing so now.  One way or the other, she would find out why Picard had agreed to let the Romulans destroy the Gaia.  She hoped Kevin O'Donnell had some of the answers she was looking for!

****

Data watched in total fascination as McLaughlin outlined the mathematical justification for his
assertion that the Gaia, because of it's greater mass, did not react to the hyper-warp field in the same way as the smaller interceptor.  Although thoroughly familiar with the theoretical concepts of 'chaotic mathematics', Data realized immediately that the Guildsmen had looked at the combined sciences of astro-physics and mathematics, and taken them in a radically new direction.  That they had done this in the first decade of the twenty-first century, without the benefit of the huge computing capacity available to scientists of his own time, was nothing short of miraculous!

It was also obvious to Data, that McLaughlin's initial characterization of his own understanding of Quyen Ky's navigation formula, was more than a little disingenuous.  It became quite clear in the first few minutes of the briefing, that McLaughlin's grasp of Ky's theory was complete in every respect. Data was not sure why the Guild leader had felt compelled to lie to him during their first conversation about the hyper-warp drive system, but that was exactly what McLaughlin had done, lied to him.

"So, as you can see from this illustration, Mr. Data, the mass threshold at which this effect occurs is unpredictable.  We have tried," the Guildsman continued, "various permutations of Ky's basic formula, without success.  We have also tried altering the shape of the generated field, again, without success.  The Gaia simply cannot be navigated through the space-time barrier with any predictable results. Because of the problems I have outlined for you here," McLaughlin concluded, "The destination variable in the Gaia's navigation program is always random!"

Data stared at the screenfull of calculations, and a whole universe of possibilities opened up
before his eyes.  Using variations of the Guild mass-energy-time-gravity formula, he could envision upgrades to conventional warp-field generation systems, that would increase their efficiency factors by several basis points.  And decrease their mass to energy consumption ratios by an equally phenomenal amount.  In his mind, he likened it to a blind man being able to experience colour, having always known, in the abstract sense, that colours did in fact exist, but never before having any real sense of what they actually were!

As he followed the step by step calculations, and the equally complex rationale by which they were arrived at, he understood completely what Dr. McLaughlin had been alluding to.  There was absolutely no reason in the universe the Gaia should not be able to pass through the space-time barrier, in either direction, at will.  Nevertheless, he accepted McLaughlin's testimony that this was not the case.  The mass variable was chaotic in the truest sense of the word, and the point at which the variable changed from being rational to chaotic, was totally unpredictable.

"It would seem, that you have rewritten the immutable laws of physics once again, Dr. McLaughlin," Data commented quietly.

"Men do not write the laws of physics, Mr. Data," McLaughlin responded.  "We simply strive to understand them.  Besides which," he continued, his voice tinged with sadness, "It was Quyen Ky, who did the truly astounding work here... any credit for what we've accomplished since, must go to her."

Data was silent for a moment, contemplating what McLaughlin had said.  "I am curious, Doctor, why was Ky the only one of your team still on the planet when the United Nations launched it's attack?" 

Data's inquiry was met with stony silence on the part of the Guild leader.  He could tell that McLaughlin was still struggling with his loss, and he was about to withdraw his question when McLaughlin surprised him by answering it.

"She went back down to the planet to retrieve some of her hand-written notes, and when the U.N. attacked she couldn't get to her interceptor... Rather than fall into their hands, she committed suicide..."

After he said this, McLaughlin seemed to withdraw into himself, briefly turning away from the android's openly curious scrutiny.  When he spoke again, it was with a strange kind of longing in his voice. "I have often thought, that it might have been best if the rest of us had followed her example."

It was an unexpected confession, one that Data had no idea how to respond to.  He could understand the concept of laying down one's life, in the defense of an ideal, or to protect a comrade, but suicide was beyond his ability to comprehend.  It seemed so... wasteful, was the only word that came to mind.

"I see that I've shocked you, Mr. Data."

"Shock would not be the appropriate word, Doctor," Data replied.  "However, suicide is a concept I have some difficulty in processing."

"Surely you can find many historical references to ritualistic suicide, Data," McLaughlin said. "Among my ancestors, the Celts and Vikings, it was considered an honourable way to atone for one's mistakes."

"Atone?" Data queried.  "Do you feel that you have something to atone for, Doctor?"

McLaughlin sighed.  "We have unleashed a terrible power upon the universe, Mr. Data," he replied. "Perhaps, atonement is exactly what is called for in this situation!"

"Is that why you agreed to Commander Srelal's demand that only blood would satisfy the Romulan High Command?" Data asked, attempting to clarify in his own mind the point that McLaughlin was trying to make   "If so, you are making a grave error in logic.  As you said a moment ago, Doctor... It is not men who write the laws of physics, or unleash their terrible powers   Nothing that you, or your scientists have done, is something that is not duplicated in nature.  You have simply discovered these natural phenomenon, and tried to exercise conscious control over them, for the benefit of all."

The Guildsman smiled bitterly.  "But that is not the way it works out, is it, Data?  Unfortunately, no scientific discovery, no matter how sublime it's intent, is ever made in a vacuum."

"Physics is neither good nor evil, Doctor," Data pointed out rationally.  "Certain elements, and phenomenon, exist.  Man exercises no control over naturally occurring tears in space time, and yet I know from personal experiece that such tears in the fabric of time do exist."

"You remind of a saying that was popular in the latter decades of the twentieth century, Mr. Data. 'Shit happens!'"

It was an expression which was new to Data, and he filed it away in the portion of his memory circuits he had dedicated to colourful figures of speech, while at the same time, analyzing the context in which the Guild leader had used the expression. After thinking about it for a moment, he was forced to the conclusion, that in this instance, the expression was an appropriate description of the point he had been trying to make.  

"If I understand the context correctly, Doctor McLaughlin.  You are absolutely right, 'shit does happen'."

"Don't you think that conveniently absolves scientists from taking any responsibility for how their discoveries are used, Data?" McLaughlin asked.

"Philosophically speaking, I would agree with you, Doctor," Data replied.  "However, is not suicide an equally offensive disavowal of responsibility?"

"Exactly the opposite, Data," McLaughlin replied quietly.  "I almost plunged an entire planet into war, over the death of a single individual," he continued.  "Not the act of honourable man, or a responsible one!"

Data was confused.  Until he realized that he, and McLaughlin, had suddenly begun talking about two completely different things.  No longer was their discussion confined to the ethics of scientific responsibility.  McLaughlin had added a new element that Data was ill-equipped to deal with.  A personal kind of spiritual philosophy, that demanded the Guild leader make amends for errors in judgement made long before Data had met him.  It was something that he could not modify his programming to understand, any more than he could really understand the philosophy behind the Klingon 'Right of Ascension' ceremony, or any one of dozens of other strange rituals that different species held sacred.  If the Guild's leader felt compelled to die on board the Gaia, when the Romulans destroyed the ship, there was little Data could do to dissuade him.  Nor, he thought, did he have a right to criticize McLaughlin's decision. "You must do what you feel to be appropriate, Doctor," he finally concluded.  "I will respect your wishes." 

"Thank you, Data."

****

Something was wrong!  The feeling of dread that Troi had managed to hold at bay since meeting Kevin, suddenly returned.  She trembled. Whether the reaction was in response to her own sense of foreboding, or an empathic vibration from someone else, she had no idea.  The telepathic link with Kevin had gone strangely silent, like a wall had risen between them, and it was this more than anything else that agitated Troi.

She tried to focus her thoughts on him alone, desperately trying to re-establish the link between them, but to no avail.  He wasn't responding to her, and nothing she did could make him answer if he didn't want to.

Riker, sitting in the Command seat beside her, instantly became aware of Troi's distress.  "What's wrong, Deanna?" he asked, doing a quick scan of the tactical repeater display on the arm of the Captain's chair.

"I'm frightened, Will," she replied hesitantly, her voice little more than a whisper.

****

O'Donnell told Wilson as much as he knew, which was considerably more than she had known before. Spock and Saavik aboard the Enterprise, she thought in amazement, understanding immediately the gravity of the situation.  If they cannot return to their own time, Spock will never have the opportunity to negotiate the treaty with the Klingon Empire, or any one of countless other species that he had made peace with during a long diplomatic career!

"Will this interceptor with the hyper-warp drive installed, do the job, Mr. O'Donnell?" Wilson asked. "Can it get Spock and Saavik back to where they belong?"

"Yes, Captain Wilson, it can," the Guildsman responded.  "All it needs is the anti-deuterium to power up the stellar-drive."

"Very well, then we had better make damn sure that spacecraft gets to the Enterprise in one piece!" Wilson toggled opent he intership comm channel. "Wilson to S'dar, report to my ready room immediately!"

"Aye, Captain," S'dar acknowledged.

It was only a few seconds later that the Vulcan officer entered the Captain's office, having been on the bridge when Wilson ordered him to report.

S'dar remained standing, coming to a position in front of Wilson's desk, He disdained the use of one of the chairs, and waited calmly for the Captain to enlighten him as to the reason for her summons.

"I have a special chore for you, S'dar," Wilson began, getting right to the point.  "You are to co-ordinate the protection of one the Guild interceptors that will be transferring from the Gaia to the Enterprise.

S'dar's only reaction to the Captain's order was a slight pursing of his lips.  "Do you have a specific method of protection in mind, Captain?" he asked.

Wilson smiled.  "As a matter-of-fact, I do," she replied.  "You are to take three of our own shuttlecraft, and surround the Guild ship as it proceeds to it's rendezvous with the Enterprise. Your mission, is to prevent any Romulan interference with this transfer, and you will use any means available to accomplish that mission.  Understood?"

S'dar understood completely the mission parameters that the Captain had outlined.  He was however, more than a little curious as to the purpose of the mission itself, and taking his promotion to First Officer very seriously, he was not about to obey an order blindly, without some justification.  "Why is this Guild spacecraft so important, Captain?"

Wilson was somewhat surprised by the question, and almost told S'dar that it was none of his business, but then she realized that it was his business. She had made him First Officer, and he had an obligation to carry out all the duties of that position.  Including, where appropriate, advising his Captain when he felt she was making an error in judgement.  Obviously, she thought, he couldn't do that if she kept him in the dark, and that was the point he was trying to make in his own, very subtle, Vulcan manner.

"You're right S'dar," she said, acknowledging the correctness of his question.  "You have to be kept up to speed."  Wilson paused before continuing, wondering if what she was about to tell him might cause S'dar to consider relieving her of command. "This is going to sound very strange, Commander, but the interceptor is of vital importance to the security of the Federation.  It is the only way we have of returning Commander Spock, and another Startleet officer, to their own place in the space-time continuum."

"I see," S'dar replied, apparently not ruffled in the least by this surprising piece of information. "Then it is logical to assume that Spock, and this other officer, were aboard the Guild ship when it arrived here."

"That is correct, Commander S'dar," O'Donnell interjected.  "They have been with us for seven months now."

"Then it is fortunate that the Gaia was not destroyed in your previous engagements with the Imperial Fleet," the Vulcan commented.  "This other officer...  Would she happen to be Saavik, formerly Chief of Operations at Starf leet Command?" he asked.

"How do you know about Saavik, S'dar?" Wilson asked suspiciously.  "I didn't find out about this until a few minutes ago!"

"Saavik, is the mother of Centurion Saalesh," he replied.  "Spock, of Vulcan, is her father."

Wilson was stunned!  And I thought she was a Romulan spy, she thought in dismay.  Instead, she turns out to be the daughter of two Starfleet legends!

"During the mind-meld," the Vulcan explained further, "The identity of her parents surfaced. She was... very attached to her mother," he concluded quietly.

It was an odd observation for S'dar to make, Wilson thought.  He almost sounded sympathetic. Could it be, that the ice-man has a heart after all? "What I'd like to know, is how the daughter of two famous Starfleet officers, ends up being raised in the Romulan Empire, and becoming an officer in the Imperial Fleet!"

"A long, and tragic story, Captain," S'dar replied, "And one that Vulcan traditions of privacy, prevents me from divulging, to you or anyone else."

Wilson understood, and although she was a little miffed that S'dar had kept this information from the rest of them, she was also aware of the strictures that Vulcan conceptions of ethics placed upon her First Officer, so she accepted his silence on the matter.  Still, she thought, it must be a very interesting story indeed...

****

The voice of Lieutenant Worf over the ship's intercomm, intruded on Picard's thoughts, as he sat quietly behind the desk in his ready room.

"Captain!  Message from Captain Wilson on Excalibur, coded transmission, your eyes only!"

"Put it through, Lieutenant!" Picard ordered, wondering what it was that the young Captain wanted. Wilson's face appeared on the desk monitor a few seconds later.  It seemed to Picard that every time he saw her, she got a little more beautiful, and it took a great deal of effort on his part to concentrate on what she was saying, rather than on how she looked as she said it.  It irritated him that he had these thoughts, but he couldn't help it.  I've been alone far to long, he thought in exasperation, trying his best to focus on Wilson's words.

"Captain Picard," Wilson began,  "I understand you have some unusual guests aboard the Enterprise?"

She knows about Spock and Saavik, Picard thought immediately, trying to keep the shock of that revelation from registering on his face.  "That is correct, Captain," he replied carefully.  "I take it you have some thoughts on this matter that you would like to share with me?"

"Yes, Captain," Wilson responded.  "I have ordered Commander S'dar to escort the Guild interceptor to the Enterprise.  Three of our shuttlecraft will surround the Guild ship while it is in transit to the Enterprise, to preclude the Romulans from grabbing it before you can get it aboard."

It was an excellent suggestion, Picard thought, surprised that one of his own officer's hadn't come up with it.  If they lost the interceptor with the stellar-drive on board, Spock and Saavik would be stranded, and that was something that just couldn't be allowed to happen.  Far too much was at stake!

"I commend your initiative, Captain," Picard said. "You're right, the Romulans might try to intercept the Guild ship, and having it escorted by Federation shuttlecraft should make them think twice before doing anything rash.  Make it so!"

"Thank you, Captain Picard," Wilson acknowledged, obviously relieved that Picard accepted her plan, even though she had overstepped her authority somewhat by implementing it before she had cleared it with him.

Picard smiled, understanding Wilson's attitude completely.  Not all Task Force Commander's would have appreciated one of their junior Captain's taking it upon themselves to order an action without clearing it with the senior officer, but Picard held a much different view.  He knew that no single individual could think of everything, and he relied on his subordinates being able to take the initiative when necessary, to modify and improve a plan he had already signed off on.  The fact that Wilson had found out about Spock and Saavik, without him having told her, proved she was resourceful, and he respected that.  She didn't sit around and wait for things to happen, she made them happen.  The mark of good officer.

"Was there anything else you wished to discuss, Captain?" Picard asked, still smiling.

"No, Sir," Wilson replied, returning his smile. "Excalibur out!"

"Picard out," he acknowledged as the screen went dark.  Very impressive, he thought.  Robert was right, she deserves the Captain's chair!

Picard was not sure that he was going to accept McLaughlin's plan, Data was still meeting with the Guild leader, and hadn't yet made his recommendation, but it couldn't hurt to have the interceptor safely on board the Enterprise.  It would increase their options if something were to go wrong.  Besides which, he wasn't comfortable with the idea of allowing the Imperial Fleet to destroy the Gaia.  Such an action, in his opinion, would be wasting a phenomenal piece of engineering, and no-one could deny that the Gaia was a phenomenal piece of engineering!

He was still amazed at what the Inter-Planetary Exploration Guild had been able to accomplish. Hyper-warp drive might be only the beginning for an intellect like Charles McLaughlin.  He was a relatively young man, who knew what he could achieve with the active support of the Federation Research Council?  Picard was bothered by McLaughlin's acceptance of Commander Srelal's demand that his ship be destroyed, it was the kind of passivity that didn't jibe with what he knew of the man from reading some of the historical records.

McLaughlin was a rebel, as well as a genius, who thought nothing of taking on the united governments of the planet Earth, according to history.  Why then, would he meekly accept the destruction of his life's work?  It didn't make sense to Picard, who knew that he would fight to his dying breath to protect the Enterprise.  Was he planning some other surprise, Picard wondered, something neither the Romulans or the Federation would expect?  And if so, what?

Picard's combadge beeped.  "Data to Picard!"

"Picard here!  Go ahead, Data."

"Captain, I have reviewed Dr. McLaughlin's analysis of the relative capabilities of the Gaia, and the interceptor, with respect to their space-time-mass interaction."

"And what is your conclusion, Data?" Picard asked.

"I believe Dr. McLaughlin is correct, Captain. I recommend that the interceptor provide the means for returning Spock and Saavik to their own place in space-time."

"Understood, Data," Picard acknowledged.  "I will accept your recommendation.  Picard out."

"Data out!"

Picard leaned back in his chair, rotating it so as to have a view of the Guild ship through the window of his office.  Did McLaughlin really intend to sacrifice himself, along with the Gaia, he wondered? What would drive a man like Charles McLaughlin to do something that seemed so at odds with his personality?

***

Chapter Twenty-One

The trio of shuttlecraft from Excalibur held station, five kilometers from the Gaia, waiting for the Guild interceptor they were to escort to the Enterprise.  So far, the Romulan warbird had not made any. move in response to Wilson's deployment of her shuttles.  Hopefully, she thought they wouldn't become suspicious of a single interceptor making it's way to the Enterprise, even though the escort was somewhat unusual.

Most of the Guild personnel were now safely aboard Excalibur, and with any luck, they could get underway right after the tranfer was complete.  Picard had ordered her back to Starbase 173, where she would hand the Guildsmen over to Starfleet Command for debriefing.  Wilson was not sorry she was going to miss the death of the Gaia.  It would be a painful thing to watch, the destruction of so magnificent a piece of engineering.  Even more so for her guests, she imagined, which was why Picard had felt it best that Excalibur leave the area before the Guild ship was taken under fire by the Imperial Fleet.  What a waste, she thought.  A lifetime's work for all of them, gone in the flash of a photon torpedo's detonation!

"S'dar to Excalibur."

"Excalibur, Wilson here, go ahead S'dar," Wilson answered the hail.

"Situation report, Captain.  The Guild interceptor has just cleared the Gaia, and is moving into formation."

"Very well, S'dar.  Proceed with the transfer to Enterprise."

"Aye, Sir.  Shuttle out."

Wilson toggled the comm channel closed, then turned to Lieutenant Ursal at Tactical.  "Keep a close eye on the warbird, Mr. Ursal!"

"Understood, Captain!" the Tactical Officer responded.

Wilson rotated her chair so that she was facing forward again.  "Helm, standby maneuvering, one quarter impulse power... at my command."

"Aye, Sir!

****

Srelal was just coming onto the Ko'Lleur's bridge, and had no sooner cleared the doors of the lift, when the warbird's Captain snarled at her, "So, Commander, what are these humans you've developed such a liking for, up to now?"

Srelal took in the Captain's demeanor, and the tactical plot on the main viewscreen, in a single glance, and knew immediately that something was terribly wrong.  The gaggle of Federation shuttles, escorting a single Guild interceptor, set off alarm bells in her mind.  What were they up to? she thought desperately, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Which Federation starship did the shuttlecraft originate from?" she asked, addressing her question to the officer manning the Ko'Leur's weapons console.

"The shuttlecraft deployed from Excalibur, Commander," the sub-Centurion replied crisply.  "The interceptor, and all three shuttles, are running with full shields," he added.

"Well, Commander?" the Captain demanded.  "You're the expert on the Federation, what do you suggest?"

It was a wrinkle, to use a human expression, that she hadn't thought of, and it showed.

The Ko'Leur's Captain turned away from her in disgust.  "I thought as much!" he spat, then snapped at the Weapons Officer,  "Power up number one turret, forward!  Prepare to fire..."

****

The first burst from the Romulan, caught the shuttle on the left flank of the formation full abeam, ripping through it's light shield grid as if it wasn't even there, tearing the left warp nacelle right off it's pylon, and sending the small vessel careening out of control!  The rest of the formation immediately went to full power, executing a series of pre-programmed evasive maneuvers, in a feeble attempt to throw off the aim of the Romulan gunners, while they made a full-speed dash for the Enterprise!

"Helm, put us between the shuttles and the warbird!" Wilson shouted.  "Lieutenant, target their forward weapons array, and fire at will!"

"Aye, Sir!" both officer's acknowledged at once, as Excalibur leapt forward, and into the fray.

****

The sudden eruption of the red-alert klaxon, jarred Picard into action, and he was out the ready-room door, and onto the bridge,in record time'!  "Situation report!"

"The Romulans have fired on one of the shuttles, Captain!" Lieutenant Worf bellowed.  "Excalibur has engaged the warbird!  Phasers are on line, and the forward torpedo bays are full loaded!"

Picard quickly took his seat, glancing at the tactical display repeater on the arm of his chair. "Bring us around to two seven zero, mark zero!" he ordered.  "Mr. Worf, prepare to engage the Ko'Leur in support of Excalibur!"

"Aye, Captain!" the Klingon growled, smiling for the first time in days.  His expression changed dramatically when his tactical console began to beep incessantly.  "Two more warbirds, Katanga class, decloaking!  At one eight zero, mark zero three six!  Range, one thousand kilometers!"

"Load aft torpedo bays!" Commander Riker ordered. "Prepare to fire!"

"Aye, Sir!  Aft bays loaded!" 

"Fire at will, Lieutenant..."

****

"You fool!" Srelal screamed, as the deck rocked beneath her feet from Excalibur's first phaser strike. "You may have just killed us all!"

The Ko'Leur's Captain graced her with a withering look, that spoke volumes about what he thought of diplomacy in general, and her in particular.  "I think not, Commander," he said shortly.  "The humans have only three ships, while we have eight.  It is their misfortune to have committed such a gross tactical error," he said, a smug smile turning up the corners of his mouth, as he leaned back in his chair on the command dais, apparently enjoying Srelal's outrage.

You idiot, she thought bitterly, I have prevented one war, only to have you start another!

The Captain's grin grew more broad.  "Have the Z'tal, and the Z'tam, take the third Federation starship under fire," he ordered, intentionally goading Srelal, as the Ko'Leur was again raked by phaser fire from Excalibur.  "We will hold our other two vessels as a tactical reserve.  Not that I think for an instant we will have need of them..."

****

McLaughlin and Data came onto the bridge just as there was an especially vicious exchange of fire between the Enterprise, and the two Romulan warships that had engaged them from their aft quarter.  Data reached out to steady McLaughlin, as the shaking of the deck threatened to take the Guildsman's feet out from under him.

"Thank you, Data," McLaughlin murmured, grabbing onto the handrail next to Lieutenant Worf for some additional support.

"You are quite welcome, Doctor," Data replied politely, releasing McLaughlin's arm, and moving to his regular station at Ops.

"I must get back to my ship, Picard!" McLaughlin shouted, holding on to the rail for dear life, as the deck bounced beneath him.

Picard glanced back over his shoulder at the Guild leader, and grimaced.  "We're a little busy at the moment, Doctor," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

As if to reinforce the Captain's point, Lieutenant Worf reported, "Aft shields are down to thirty-two percent!  The  shield generators cannot withstand another direct hit!"

"Captain?" Riker asked.

Picard knew what Piker was thinking. "Make it so, Number One!"

"Geordi, reroute warp power to the shield generators," Riker ordered tersely, irrevocably committing the Enterprise to the battle!

"Aye, Sir!" Laforge shouted from his position at the aft engineering terminal, his battle station when the ship was at red-alert.  "Power re-routed from the warp field, those systems should be coming back up now!"

"Mr. Worf?" Riker asked.

"Shields are back up to one hundred percent, Commander!" Worf acknowledged.  "I am routing EPS overflow to the phaser emitters!"

"Good idea," Riker responded, just as the ship was rocked again by the explosion of a torpedo against the shields.

"The Hood reports it is under attack by two Romulan cruisers, Captain," Data reported from Ops, having taken on some of the deluge of information scrolling across Worf's tactical terminal, and feeding it to his own.  "Also, Katanga-class."

"There seems to be a pattern developing here, Number One," Picard observed.  "Four, Katanga- class warbirds, have the task-force under fire, and we know there is at least one other D'Deridex class heavy cruiser, in our vicinity."  He stroked his chin casually, before continuing, "I'd be willing to bet there are two more heavy cruisers being held in reserve."

"Then we're in serious trouble, Captain," Riker stated emphatically.

"Agreed!  But there is no way we can withdraw on impulse power alone!"

"I can help, Captain," McLaughlin said forcefully from his position beside Lieutenant Worf.  "Get me back to the Gaia, and we can even the odds!"

Picard turned to Troi, wanting her impressions of both the Guildsman's offer, and the state of mind of the Romulan Commander that had ordered the attack.  "Counselory can you tell us anything about why the Romulans launched this attack?"

Troi was trying her best to concentrate, but her own worries were interfering with her empathic senses.  The link with Kevin was silent, and her state of mind was approaching sheer panic!  "I don't know, Captain," she said in reply to Picard's question. "I'm getting conflicting feelings from the Romulans. On the one hand, a sense of deep satisfaction, but on the other a projection of vehement outrage, almost explosive in it's intensity!"

That doesn't tell us much, Picard reflected, and they were in need of answers, badly!  "What do you think you can do for us, Doctor," he asked McLaughlin.  "I was under the impression that the Gaia was heavily damaged, and would not be repaired for at least seventy-two hours?"

"We can go to full power thirty seconds after I'm aboard, Captain," McLaughlin replied.  "My people do not discuss damage control in front of potential adversaries," he explained.  "In this case, the seventy-two hours you refer to, was actually seventy-two minutes.  The Gaia has been prepared for battle ever since I came on board the Enterprise."

It was a tactic they should have been prepared for, Picard thought.  If I had been in his place, I would not have discussed damage control in front of Data and LaForge either!  "Even if that's true, Doctor, there is no way to get you to the Gaia without dropping our defensive shields.  And as you can see," he continued as the ship was rattled again,  "That would not be terribly conducive to our survival at the moment."

Data turned to face the Captain.  Actually, Captain, it is possible to use the transporter during the shield recycle sequence.  We might be able to beam one person over to the Gaia."

Picard was familiar with the procedure that Data referred to, but it was exceedingly risky.  They might lose McLaughlin, and be no further ahead. "There is no guarantee that it would work, Doctor," he said to the Guild leader.  "But if you're willing to risk it, I won't try to stop you."

McLaughlin nodded his approval.  "At this point, Captain, I have little to lose except my life, and I have already promised that to Commander Srelal," he said with a slight smile.

Picard looked from the Guildsmen to Data.  "Very well, make it so!"

Data got up from his station, and he and McLaughlin left the bridge, not bothering to pause to say goodbye.

"Was he telling the truth, Counselor?" Picard asked.

Troi was clearly distracted, but she managed to stammer a reply to the Captain's question.  "I... think so, Captain..."

****

Excalibur was in a fight for it's life.  A fight they were in danger of losing, Wilson realized.  The D'Deridex class warbird that was opposing them outgunned her Ambassador-class starship in every respect.  When the Romulans had fired on the shuttlecraft, she hadn't thought through the consequences of her actions, she had just reacted to protect her people.  But as Excalibur was hit again and again, at point blank range, by disruptor fire from the heavier Romulan warship, she was forced to conceed, at least to herself, that it might not have been the best decision she could have made!

Damage reports were flooding in so rapidly that she had finally ordered the crew to prepare to abandon ship, as a precaution, as she searched for a way out of the mess she had gotten them into.  They had tried maneuvering out of the Ko'Leur's line of fire, but the Romulan matched her move for move.  Both the Enterprise, and the Hood, were also under attack, so there was no help to be gained from that quarter, she thought, wracking her brain for a solution, as her ship threatened to come apart at the seams from the beating it was taking.  She could of course withdraw, but that would give the Romulan commander one more ship to use against Enterprise or Hood, and she had no intention of saving Excalibur at the expense of the other Federation starships.  No, she thought bitterly, we're in for the duration, win or lose!  

"Weapons status, Mr. Ursal!"

"Dorsal phaser emitters are off line! We're venting phaser coolant, and the portside array is badly overheated!" the Tactical Officer replied, his voice loud, but rock steady, in spite of the pressure he was under.

Not good news! Wilson thought.  At least we've given S'dar a chance to get his shuttles out of harms way.  As soon as the Katanga class warbirds had decloaked, S'dar had interrupted their mad dash for the Enterprise, and vectored them away from the worst of the battle, seeking safety in the sensor shadow cast by the asteroid below the Gaia.  Wilson hoped there weren't any additional Romulan warships using the same tactic. If there were, S'dar and the others were done for!

"What about damage to the Romulan, Lieutenant? Have we hurt them at all?"

Ursal scanned his sensor board.  "The warbird's starboard shield array is down to twenty percent, two of it's forward turrets are badly damaged, but still firing occasionally!"

Wilson nodded, taking some satisfaction from the fact that the Romulan hadn't gotten away completely unscathed by the seemingly one sided battle.  "Very well.  Helm, pitch up forty degrees forward, give me z-plus four hundred kilometers, full impulse power!" She ordered.  "Course, three zero zero, mark zero four five!  Lieutentant Ursal, as soon as our aft torpedo launchers are unmasked, I want you to pour everything we have left into the Romulan's starboard, upper quarter!"

"Understood, Captain!"

"Engage!"

****

"We are forty-five seconds from the shield recycle sequence, Doctor," Data reported from behind the transporter console.  "Standby, I will give you a five second countdown."

McLaughlin stood on the transport pad, waiting uncertainly, obviously not looking forward to the prospect of having his molecules disassembled. "You're sure this will work, Data?"

Data looked up, keeping track of the count in his mind without difficulty.  "I am confident there is a better-than ninety-two percent probability that the transport will be successful, Doctor," he replied.

McLaughlin didn't appear to take too much comfort from Data's cold statistical analysis.  "Thank you, Data," he said sarcastically.  "That makes me feel much better!"

Data kept his mouth shut, recognizing that McLaughlin did not require a response, and was just 'letting off steam' as the saying went.  He appreciated the position the Guild leader found himself in, having to trust, what was for him, an untested device, to get him back to the Gala.  "Thirty seconds, Doctor."

"You're an interesting man, Data," the Guildsmen said quietly.  "It has been my great pleasure to have made your acquaintance."

Data cocked his head quizzically.  "In actual fact, Doctor McLaughlin," he replied.  "I am not a 'man' at all, I am an android."

McLaughlin shook his head.  "The measure of a man is not determined by biology alone, Data.  It is a far more subtle thing," he stated emphatically. "Based more on intellect, and character development, than genetics.  Believe me, Data" McLaughlin continued, "By any measure that I'm aware of, you are an outstanding example of manhood."

"Thank you, Doctor," Data replied, silently wondering if McLaughlin was correct in his assessment, that he was in fact a 'man'.  "I also count myself fortunate to have met a scientist of your reputation.  One of the true giants in the field of astro-physics."

McLaughlin waved away the compliment.  "I was never that important, Data.  My theories were never really accepted by the scientific community."

"In that, you are quite wrong, Doctor," Data replied with complete assurance.  "McLaughlin's Theorem of Hyper-Spatial Mechanics, was proved to be absolutely correct, in the year 2113.  It is used exclusively as the base-line formula for the navigation of all space vessels equipped with faster-than-light capability."

"Really?"

"Yes, Doctor," Data replied.  "Ten seconds."

"How about that," McLaughlin mused.  "And my professor at the time, called it absolute drivel!"

"Your professor was wrong," Data stated unequivocally.

"Five seconds... four... three... two... one... energizing!"

"Goodbye, Data..."

Data watched the Guild leader shimmer out of existence, his hand raised in farewell.  The blue-green bar, signifying that the transporter buffers were in operation, blinked to life.  Running through their cycle faster than a human eye could follow, the process still seemed painfully slow to Data, standing with his hand poised over the control pad, ready to shift McLaughlin's transport trace back to the recycle mode if he detected a problem.  There was a brief shift in the colour of the buffer grid, and the board went back into standby mode.  McLaughlin had made it through the shields, and was back on board the Gala.  Safe, for the moment...

****

The Gala's command deck materialized around him, giving McLaughlin the weird impression that it was the ship, not himself, that had disappeared in one place to reform itself in another.  He tingled all over, a reflex action of his nervous system, to the strange experience of molecular transport. As the command deck solidified, he was surprised by the fact that every one of it's stations was occupied.  Kevin O'Donnell was sitting at the command console, inputting information to his terminal.  One glance around the deck told him everything he needed to know.  The Gaia was ready for action.

"Kevin!  Why are you still aboard?"

O'Donnell jumped at the sound of McLaughlin's voice.  "Charles!"

"You haven't answered my question, Kevin!  Why hasn't the evacuation been completed?" he asked testily.

"We were waiting for you, Charles," O'Donnell replied. "You didn't really expect us to abandon her, did you?"

"I expected you to do what you were told to do!" McLaughlin snapped back, then his voice became gentle.  "Really, Kevin, I didn't want you here for this."

"For what, Charles?" O'Donnell asked bitterly, "To watch you take the Gala into battle without us?  That is what you were intending to do, isn't it?"

"Yes," McLaughlin admitted.  "That was my intention."

"Why?... For god's sake, Charles!  She's been our life too!"

McLaughlin sighed wearily.  "I know that, but I had hoped to spare you this."

"It was not your decision to make," O'Donnell said, his voice subdued.  "We have the right to choose our own fate."

"We really don't have the time for an argument, Kevin," McLaughlin said.  "Much as I've enjoyed
our arguments over the past twenty years.  You must leave, all of you."

As he said it, McLaughlin looked at each and every one of them.  At O'Donnell, sitting in the command chair, as if born to it... At Aswariz, the Palestinian, born in a refugee camp in the Lebanon, but having the strength of will to put that behind her, and become the finest computer engineer that any Captain could ever ask for...  Beside her, at the tactical console, was the Israeli, Shamir.  The only one aboard who had actually been trained as a soldier, but who had joined McLaughlin's team as an expert in optical computer processing...

All of them had their reasons for giving up the countries whose passports they once carried with pride.  All of them had believed in the dream, his dream, of science without borders.  But now it was over, finished!  He had to make them understand that!  They all had the chance for a new life, in a Federation of Planets that came very close to fulfilling that dream!  They had given up everything to follow him, and now he would give them back the only thing he could give them, their lives!

Here sat the best minds of a generation.  Billions of kilometers from the planet of their birth, on the edge of an empire that none of their contemporaries had ever heard of, waiting patiently for the man who led them to order them to war.  They had struggled against overwhelming odds, in total anonymity, to perpetuate a dream, and he knew deep in his soul that they deserved better!  All of them had a right to their own dreams, the chance to shine as the exceptional individuals they were.

Hanging over all of them, was the ghost of Quyen Ky.  The first of their number to die in defense of the dream.  Perhaps, McLaughlin thought with a touch of bitterness, it was her legacy that drove them as much as anything else.  Her sacrifice, that ennobled them, but he could no longer allow that to influence their thinking.  It was time, he thought, time to end it, here and now!

Kevin held his gaze longer than the others, looking deep into his eyes.  McLaughlin stared back at the man who had been his friend longer than any of the others, searching for some way to make him understand.  Finally, he said the only thing that came to mind, "I release you... 'Merlin'... This   'Arthur' has no stomach for it any longer."  He paused, barely able to control the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.  "Please, Kevin... In all these years, I have never given you an order, but I am giving you one now... Go!  Go to your Celtic princess, live a long life, and take what happiness you can from the years you have left!"

O'Donnell looked from McLaughlin to the other men and women sitting at the stations that had been such a large part of their lives, for so long.  They would follow his lead, he knew.  O'Donnell did something then that he had never done before, he sought out the thoughts that drove Charles... and in that instant, he understood.  He would follow the order.

"Menachim," he said to the man occupying the tactical station.  "Bring the 'Battle Management System' on line, full auto, tactical plot up on screen one."

"Aye," Shamir replied quietly, "BMS on line, tactical up, screen one!  System is fully automated! Command station overrides, activated!"

"Thank you, Kevin," McLaughlin said.

O'Donnell nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Full power is available on demand, Charles," Aswariz said from the engineering station   "All weapons, and shields, are fully restored." And then, as if she too had suddenly developed the ability to read McLaughlin's mind, she added,  "There is enough anti-deuterium left for one stellar-jump, no more."

McLaughlin smiled.  "Understood..."

****

Saalesh was terrified.  As the Enterprise shook from disruptor strike, after disruptor strike, the thought that one or both of her parents might be killed dominated her mind.  What made it even worse, was that she had no idea what had happened to make the Romulans launch the attack.

Could they have found out about Spock and Saavik, she wondered?  Is that why Srelal has reneged on her agreement?  Does she think that the Empire can be served best by destroying the man who, in their time, personifies the resistance to the Dictatorship?

She looked over at Spock, marveling at his calm demeanor.  She still found it hard to believe that this was the same man who would one day become her father.  The man on Romulus, that she had come to know so well over the past few months, did not seem at all like his younger self.  The elder Spocic's logic was tempered, as she had tried to explain to S'dar, with an easily discernible compassion, and the ability to love, that was lacking in his younger incarnation.  The man before her was a stranger.

Saalesh's eyes shifted to her mother.  Saavik too, was different than the woman she remembered from her childhood, but different in a recognizable way, and the bond between them had been almost immediate. Outwardly, Saavik appeared to be taking the events of the last few minutes calmly as well, but Saalesh could feel her trepidation at the prospect of not being able to return to their own place in space-time.  And she knew also that the fear emanating from Saavik was not the fear of someone concerned with the danger to their own life, but was the same kind of fear that Saalesh herself was experiencing.  The fear of losing someone she loved deeply... Spock, and Saalesh herself.

It gave Saalesh another insight into her parent's relationship.  It was Saavik who had tempered her father, she realized.  Who had made the spark of human compassion in his soul, blossom.  In a way, she thought, in the years to come their roles would reverse, she would become the teacher, and he the student.  Saavik's fire would warm him, even as he offered her a method to control that fire, with logic, and Vulcan discipline.

Just as this thought had occurred to her, the Enterprise was rattled by an especially violent explosion. Saalesh lost her grip on the arm of the chair she was sitting in, and was thrown up against the bulkhead, losing consciousness immediately...

****

When the Federation starship accelerated over them, the Ko'Leur momentarily lost it's weapons lock on Excalibur, causing what it's Captain had hoped would be a crippling volley of fire, to pass harmlessly into the space the ship had occupied a micro-second before.  "They are trying to withdraw!" he shrieked at the helmsman.  "Follow them!"

The helm prepared to obey the order, trying to bring the Ko'Leur's nose around so that her forward turret's could track the opponent.  It was this maneuver that saved them from being blown to bits by Excalibur's torpedoes.  Instead of taking the full force of the volley on it's weakened starboard shield array, the Romulan ship had pivoted nearly one-hundred and thirty degrees from the position targeted by Excalibur, causing most of the energy expended by the exploding photon torpedoes to be directed at the stronger portside array.  The resulting damage was still devastating, but it was not immediately, and spectacularly, fatal!

"You idiot!" Srelal screamed at the Captain, pulling herself off the deck, and drawing her personal disruptor in one fluid motion.  "Damage report!" she shouted, levelling the disruptor at the Captain's chest, and firing without a moment's hesitation, vaporizing the fool where he sat!

"All shields have collapsed, Commander!" the weapons officer reported crisply, with barely a glance at the place where his former commanding officer had been sitting a second before.  "All weapons systems are off line!  Fore and aft torpedo launchers have been destroyed!  Fore and aft disruptor turrets, also destroyed!"

"Do we have enough power to withdraw?" Srelal asked of the Ko'Leur's Engineer, her hopes sinking.

"Negative, Commander," the man replied.  "We may be able to restore partial impulse power in a few minutes."

Srelal glaced at the main viewer, and the Federation starship hovering above them.  "We don't have a few minutes!"

"Then we are lost," the Engineer commented cryptically...

****

"Again!" Wilson shouted.  "Hit them again!"

"I cannot, Captain," Lieutenant Ursal reported from tactical.  "The last volley was all we had left!"

"Damn!" Wilson cursed, slamming her hand down on the arm of her chair.  "Shield status?"

"Aft shields have collapsed.  Forward shields at twenty-seven percent, port lateral grid collapsed, starboard lateral grid holding at seventeen percent!"

We're finished, Wilson thought bitterly.  One more disruptor strike will punch holes in the primary
hull!  "Scan the warbird, I want to know how badly that last volley damaged him?"

"The Romulan's shields have collapsed, Captain," the ensign manning the Ops station reported.  "He has minimal maneuvering power, thruster packs only!"

A sitting duck, Wilson fumed, and there's not a goddamned thing I can do about it!  There was little in the way of choices left to her, Excalibur would have to withdraw.

She briefly considered sending a boarding party to try and capture the Romulan ship, but discarded the idea almost at once.  The same thought had probably occurred to the warbird's Captain, and he would be prepared.  It was even possible that he was intending to pre-empt her by sending his own boarding party on to Excalibur.  Without full shields there was little she could do to stop him! Wilson rotated her chair to face the tactical station, "Mr. Ursal," she said quietly, "If the Romulans try to board us, prepare to initiate the auto-destruct sequence on my mark.  Five second countdown."

Ursal nodded grimly.  "Aye, Captain!" he acknowledged, swiftly configuring his board to initiate an emergency auto-destruct.

Wilson brought her chair back around to face the main viewscreen, and then touched the control pad on the armrest to open the ship's intercomm. "All non-essential personnel... this is the Captain. Commence boarding of the emergency escape pods.  Repeat... All personnel not presently engaged in ship's operations or damage control, board the emergency escape pods, now!"

If the Romulans did try to board them, she would save as many people as she could before blowing up the ship.  But until that actually happened, she was damned if she was going to give her up without a fight!

"Mr. Ursal, open a channel to the Enterprise..."

***

Chapter Twenty-Two

"Message from Excalibur, Captain!" Lieutenant Worf bellowed, his lust for battle running strong, and momentarily getting the best of him.

"On screen, Lieutenant!" Picard ordered immediately.

"Visual!"

The view of the remaining Romulan, the other attacking vessel had limped away badly damaged, was replaced by the serious face of Captain Wilson   Picard could see damage control parties hard at work in the background, and here and there wisps of smoke rose from damaged bridge circuitry.  He didn't waste time on pleasantries, "Report Captain!"

When she spoke, Wilson's voice was calm, and Picard was once again impressed with the younger officer.  There was no question at all left in his mind that she deserved her command.

"The Romulan ship that we engaged is heavily damaged, Captain Picard, as are we.  Our primary phaser arrays are off line, and we don't have any photon torpedoes left.  Aft shields have buckled, the port lateral shield grid is down, forward shields are now down to twenty-two percent and are still dropping, and the starboard lateral grid is just barely holding at seventeen percent."  Wilson was seen to take a deep breath, before continuing, "Excalibur must withdraw."

It was a statement of fact, not a request, Picard noted, appreciating Wilson's candor.  "We believe the Romulan task force may be holding some ships in reserve, Captain," Picard informed her, as the Enterprise was again rocked by disruptor barrage, causing the viewscreen to flicker uncertainly for a second.  "Do you have warp-power available?" he asked, not bothering to state the obvious, that if she didn't, Excalibur would be a sitting duck trying to extract itself from the battle area on impulse power alone.

"Negative," Wilson replied, getting Picard's message loud and clear.  "Any suggestions?"

The Enterprise's Captain allowed himself a small smile.  "Contact the Gaia, she should be going to full power any second now."

Wilson surprise showed for only an instant. "That's wonderful!" she exclaimed enthusiastically.. "Excalibur out!"

"Channel closed, Captain," Worf reported needlessly, as the screen went blank.       -

"Captain Wilson seems to have developed a flair for this sort of thing, Captain," Riker commented.

"She's done well, Will.  Much better than I would have given her credit for two days ago."

"Her confidence level is much higher, Captain," Counselor Troi explained, empathically taking some of that confidence into herself.  "Thanks in large part to the trust you placed in her abilities."

Picard did not reply to the Counselor's remark, knowing that he had come very close to turning command of the Excalibur over to Riker.  Troi knew that too, he thought, realizing that she was trying to reinforce the rightness of that decision in his mind.  A private message, telling him to trust his instincts.  A message he could take to heart, in the spirit it was intended.

"Mr. Worf, open a channel to the Hood..."

****

"Why don't they finish us?" Srelal asked, putting voice to a question everyone on the Ko'Leur's bridge was asking themselves.

"Perhaps they are more heavily damaged than we first believed, Commander," the weapons officer replied.  "They do not fire, because they cannot!"

Could that be true, Srelal wondered?  With the minimal auxiliary power available, the sensors on the Ko'Leur were incapable of detecting anything, what power they had was devoted to life-support.  So it was quite possible that the weapons officer's supposition was correct.  The question was, if it were true, what could they do about it?

"Raise the Ko'Llox on emergency sub-space," Srelal ordered.  "Tell her Captain to attack Excalibur
immediately!"

"Yes, Sir!"

This was not a fight that Srelal had wanted, but if they wished to survive, she had no choice but to continue it!

"Ko'Llox acknowledges the order, Commander," the weapons officer reported.  "They are commencing their attack..."

****

"D'Deridex class warbird decloaking, Captain!" Lieutenant Ursal shouted.  "Bearing two zero zero, mark zero four five!  Range, one thousand kilometers!"

Shit!  Wilson cursed to herself.  "Bring us about, Helm!  Prepare to launch the escape pods!" Another hit aft, she thought, and it would be all over!

"Forward shields are down to nineteen percent," Ursal warned."

"I'm aware of that, Mister!" Wilson shot back. "On screen!"

The image of the huge Romulan warship materialized in the upper left corner of the Excalibur's forward viewscreen, firing as soon as it solidified.

Wilson unconsciously braced herself for the impact, knowing full well that the forward shields would collapse with the first hit, and that the second volley of disruptor fire would finish them.  The second volley never came, much to her amazement. The Romulan suddenly wheeled around, pivoting one-hundred eighty degrees on it's own axis.  "What the hell is he doing?" she asked of no-one in particular.

"Bringing aft torpedo launchers to bear?" Ursal suggested.

"Helm, z-minus one thousand kilometers, full impulse power! Engage!" Wilson screamed.

Excalibur dropped like a stone accelerated to nine-tenths the speed of light!  Leaving the crew dizzy, as the inertial dampeners struggled to keep up.  Wilson thought she could actually feel the ship lurch as it hit the bottom of the one thousand kilometer drop, like a yo-yo running out of string. The maneuver placed the Ko'Leur between Excalibur and the new threat, masking them from a torpedo attack, unless the warbird that had just decloaked was willing to destroy the Ko'Leur as well!

The expected torpedoes never came, making Wilson wonder if she had miscalculated.  "Full sensor sweep!" she ordered, knowing that there were probably two more Romulan warships out there somewhere.  "Engineering, I need warp-power, and I need it now!"

"Ten minutes, Captain," Excalibur's engineer reported over the intercomm, "That's the best I can do!"

"Captain!" called the ensign manning the Ops station,  "I am tracking eleven high-speed targets,
bearing one eight zero, mark zero nine five!  Range, six hundred kilometers, and closing!"

What now? Wilson thought.  "On screen!"

****

The Federation ship loomed up out of the dark, filling O'Donnell's tactical screen, a steady stream of telemetry scolling across the screen below the image of Excalibur.  She was heavily damaged, O'Donnell saw immediately, much more severly than he had suspected. All her weapons systems were off line, and the defensive shield grids were fragmented to the point where they would be totally ineffective against any sort of concerted attack.

"Starship Excalibur from Guild interceptor leader, acknowledge."

"Excalibur copies your transmission, interceptor leader," came the reply, as the starship's emergency strobe lights flashed on, shifting from their normal white to the green spectrum that the Guild ship's communications array could detect and decode. "What are your intentions?"

O'Donnell smiled to himself, noting the Excalibur's Captain didn't sound entirely trusting of his motives. "Do you have visual protocols available, Excalibur?" he asked.

"Affirmative, going to visual now."

O'Donnell keyed the communications interface on his command console, bringing up the visual transmission from Excalibur onto one of the interceptor's screens. The exterior view was replaced with the face of the Federation Captain.  "I have been ordered to assist you in any way I can, Captain," he said. "I think we should start by forming a defensive shield perimeter around your ship," he suggested.

"You have that capability?" Wilson asked, still slightly incredulous of the Guild's technical abilities.

O'Donnell didn't exactly answer her question directly.  "We can phase shift our own defensive grids to match yours.  Most of the power will come from our shield generators."

"You had better do it quickly!" the Federation Captain responded.  "That D'Deridex class cruiser won't take long to find us!"

O'Donnell smiled again.  "I imagine the Romulan warship has his hands full right about now, Captain..."

****

Even with the fully automated Battle Management System on line, the Gaia was proving to be a handful to control for one man.  McLaughlin's first strike had done little damage to the Romulan ship, but his sudden appearance under full power had distracted them from their attack on Excalibur, which was definately a good start.

He had reason to doubt that first impression a moment later, when the Romulan opened up on the Gaia with everything it had!  McLaughlin found himself about to order a launch of the Ready Alert deck, then sheepishly realized that there were no interceptors left aboard.  He was alone, absolutely alone for the first time in twenty years, and that thought sobered him as nothing else had been able to since the death of his wife.

So be it, he thought, finding a strange kind of contentment in the fact that he need not worry about the others any longer.  For better or worse, his people were now on their own, and he experienced a brief thrill of exhilaration from the freedom that gave him.  He thumbed the control pad beneath his right hand, closing the distance between Gaia and the Romulan rapidly, allowing the sophisticated computers that he had helped design handle the defense of his ship...

****

"Ko'Llox has broken off it's attack, Commander!"

The surprised exclamation from the communications officer brought Srelal out of the command chair. "What?  Verify!" she hissed, coming over to stand by the comm terminal.

"Confirmed!  Ko'Llox reports it is under attack by the Guild vessel!"

Shaa! Srelal cursed silently.  The damned fool has ruined everything!  The honourable solution that she had worked so hard to achieve was shredded by events beyond her control!

"Contact R'Tal and R'Tam...," she said reluctantly, again cursing the stupidity that had forced this battle upon her.  "Order them to take the Gaia under fire."

As the harried communications officer relayed her orders, Srelal studied the tactical plot, thinking rapidly.  The Federation task-force had evened the odds considerably.  Of the eight vessels under her command, four of them, the Ko'Leur included, were effectively out of the fight.  Enterprise and Hood had each destroyed one of the light cruisers deployed against them, and the other one attacking Hood had been forced to withdraw, offensively incapable of pressing it's attack.   She had just committed her last reserves, but the entry of the Guild ship into the battle severely depleted what little confidence she had left.  Hood was now free to maneuver, and it was a foregone conclusion that between them, Enterprise and Hood would blow her remaining K'Tanga class cruiser from the sky in a matter of minutes, if not sooner!

Every bit of tactical doctrine Srelal had ever been taught screamed at her to withdraw, that this was a fight she could not win.  Unfortunately, withdrawal was not an option that she could consider, and still hope to retain her rank, and her head, she thought bitterly!  Safe in their ivory towers on Romulus, the High Command of the Imperial Fleet was unlikely to view a tactical withdrawal as anything less than cowardice.  An offence punishable by instantaneous execution. And she would not die alone, her family would follow her into the flames!

The plot on Ko'Leur's viewscreen was now several minutes old, but the images told a depressing story nonetheless.  Srelal could project with a fair amount of certainty what would happen next.  Hood would move in support of the Enterprise, and when they were finished with the Enterprise's remaining attacker, both of the Federation starships would bring their weapons to bare on the Ko'Leur.  And, she thought, if the Guild ship was fully operational, she might as well write off the Ko'Llox as well, those damn particle beams would rip the other D'Deridex class warbird apart.

"Sensors up, Commander!"

The call from the weapons officer came as a relief. Now she would be able to see what was happening, instead of just speculating.  "Tactical plot, on viewer!"

The previously recorded images shifted, the computer automatically adjusting the spherical tactical display at high speed to account for the new positions of both the Federation ships and her own.  It was even worse than she thought, Srelal saw immediately, forcing herself to maintain her composure, in spite of the rapidly deteriorating situation...

****

It had taken Hood only a single pass to cripple the remaining cruiser engaging the Enterprise.
"The Romulan's shields have collapsed, Captain," Lieutenant Worf reported with satisfaction.  "He is withdrawing."

"Very well, Mr. Worf," Picard responded.  "Open a channel to both the Hood, and Excalibur," he ordered.

"Channels open!"

"On screen."

"Geordi," Commander Riker called, "Get power back to the warp engines.  We may need it in a
few minutes."

"Aye, Commander," the engineer acknowledged.

Picard's first remarks were addressed to the Captain of Excalibur.  "Where is the Guild interceptor that your shuttles were escorting, Captain?" he asked anxiously.

"As far as I know, Captain Picard," Wilson replied, "The Guild ship is still with our shuttles.  S'dar took them below the asteroid, I assume they are still there, but the asteroid is blocking communications." Wilson's expression changed, and she half-rotated her chair towards the tactical station behind her for a second, before turning back to the forward viewscreen.  "Mr. O'Donnell has just advised us that he has placed eleven of the Guild interceptors under S'dar's command, and that they are with him now," she reported.

"Excellent," Picard replied, obviously relieved.

****

The mention of Kevin,caused a feeling of relief to wash over Counselor Troi as well.  He's alive,
she thought, so why won't he answer me?

The withdrawal of the second Romulan warship had allowed Troi a moments respite from the emotional whirlpool that seemed to have taken hold of the Enterprise's crew.  She used the time to try to re-establish her mental link with Kevin O'Donnell, only half-listening to the three way conversation between Picard, Wilson, and DeSoto.

"Kevin?" she thought, trying to focus her mental projection as much as possible.

"I am here, Deanna," came O'Donnell's reply. "I have not deserted you," he continued apologetically.

"I was afraid something had happened to you," Troi thought to him, her concern vibrating down the psychic link between them.

"Something did happen to me," O'Donnell thought back, projecting sadness.  "I have abandoned my oldest friend." He showed her the memory of his goodbye to McLaughlin, along with the deep emotional conflict that wrenched his soul as he left the Gaia for the last time.

Troi shared his pain, empathically making it her own, and with the sharing came an understanding of how much O'Donnell had given up to be with her. The Guild had been his life, McLaughlin's dream of science without borders had been his dream as well.  The Gaia was the only real home Kevin had ever known, the only place where he felt accepted for what he was, a place where his 'gift' had been a valued asset, instead of a burden.  "I release you... Merlin, this Arthur has no stomach for it any longer...", the phrase echoed in both their minds, a lament for broken dreams, and shattered aspirations....

****

They were surrounded, Srelal thought in frustration. Dead in space, and surrounded!  Excalibur was hanging below them, like a spike ready to be driven into the heart of her ship.  The Hood had taken a position in the upper quadrant forward, while Picard's ship was maneuvering to cover Ko'Leur's upper quadrant aft.  There was no way out, if the Federation ships decided to fire, they were done for.

They hadn't fired yet, she thought, which was somewhat surprising, considering their superior tactical position. "What are they waiting for," she wondered aloud?

Her question was greeted with absolute silence on the part of the other members of her bridge crew, something which did not exactly inspire her confidence in their abilities.  They were waiting, she realized, waiting for her to give some indication what she was thinking.  Unwilling to commit themselves, lest they be punished for thinking the wrong thing.

Srelal smiled grimly to herself.  There was little she could do to them that the Federation starships were not about to do to them all.  "Tactical, scan the last known position of the Ko'Llox!" she ordered tersely.

"Yes, Commander!" came the instant reply, as the weapons officer virtually leapt to do her bidding.

The Ko'Llox's image formed on the tactical plot, as well as those of the other two warbirds she had ordered to attack the Gaia.  Of the Gaia herself, there was no sign, but at least the Guild bastard hadn't blown her three remaining operational vessels from the sky, she thought with some relief.  "Go to optical," she ordered.

The optical scan produced the desired result, and as the Guild ship shimmered into existence on the forward viewscreen, a collective gasp went around the Ko'Leur 's bridge.  The Gaia was only meters from the Ko'Llox, almost on top of her!

He learns fast this human, Srelal thought, quietly impressed with the tactic.  The other two warbirds were hovering uncertainly, unable to fire without risk of killing  their own comrades on board the the Ko'Llox.  Unfortunately, the Gaia was under no such restriction, and was pouring volley after volley into all three Romulan ships.

As they all watched in horror, a single burst from the Guild ship tore a huge chunk from one of the warp nacelles on Ko'Llox, causing an uncontrolable fire to sweep down one of the supporting wings, vaporizing large sections of hull in the process.

"Comm, order the R'Tal and R'Tam to press their attack!  The Ko'Llox is finished!"

"Aye, Commander!"

Even as she issued the order, Srelal knew it was too late.  Before the other warbirds could open fire, the Gaia broke off the attack on Ko'Llox, and concentrated her fire on R'Tal and R'Tam, seemingly impervious to both disruptor blasts and photon torpedoes!  At the same time, the Guild ship closed with the warbirds, moving and firing with incredible speed.

"Commander!  Something is happening to the Guild ship, it's energy signature is increasing exponentially!"

"Explain!"

There was the barest hesitation before the Centurion responded.  "One second the Guild ship was undetectable, but the next our sensor readings went off the scale!"

Srelal whirled around and was about to order a detailed analysis of the sensor scan, when her attention was diverted by something she caught out of the corner of her eye.  The Guild ship was now within one kilometer of R'Tal, and still closing.  As Srelal turned back to the forward viewscreen, the Gaia's shield corona seemed to grow in size, blossoming out to envelope the Romulan ship closest to it, and changing colour from brilliant scarlet to a deep azure blue.

"Break off the attack!" she screamed reflexively, knowing full well that the R'Tal's Captain could not hear her.  "He's destroying himself..."

****

A ripple of apprehension passed from Kevin to Troi, "Too much mass..." O'Donnell thought to himself.

"The Gaia!" Troi gasped out loud, startling Picard with the terror in her voice.

"Mr. Worf, optical!  On screen!" Picard ordered.

They all watched as the Gaia's corona expanded to encompass first one, and then the other Romulan ship.  The edge of the corona shimmered, softening it's hard edge as it changed colour, shifting from red to blue.  

"What's happening, Mr. Data?" Picard asked, picking up on Troi's fear, and realizing that something was wrong.

"The Gaia has engaged it's stellar drive, Captain," Data replied, scanning his sensor board.  "But it appears that there is a problem developing within the hyper-dynamic field."

"What kind of a problem, Data?" Riker asked, his own apprehension growing.

"The field is not strong enough to contain the mass of all three vessels, Commander.  Unless the Gaia's power is augmented substantially, the hyper-dynamic warp field will collapse in fifteen point two seconds..."

****

He had miscalculated badly, he realized, as the telemetry scrolling across his screen began to flash intermittently from the power drain. McLaughlin quickly shut down some of the Gaia's peripheral systems, killing life-support to all sections of the ship below the command deck, and took   the communications array off line.  It helped, the displays stabilized, but he could tell that it wasn't nearly enough.

He scanned the navigation telemetry, and making a snap decision, reprogrammed the destination variable from memory.  The stellar-drive power curve came back up, as a result of the new destination input, and the field integrity solidified momentarily. It would have to do, he thought, locking down the shape of the field, and initiating a ten second countdown...

****

He was going to lose it, O'Donnell thought.  If he can't get more power the field will collapse! "Interceptor leader to all sections, form on me!"

Without bothering to wait for an acknowledgement, O'Donnell rolled his spacecraft out of it's position along Excalibur's hull, and headed for the Gaia, bringing the little ship's propulsion field to it's maximum strength.

As he hurtled away from the Federation starship, he spared a single thought for Deanna Troi. 
"I'm sorry, Deanna, but I must do this..."

****

"Imzadi! No!  Don't leave me!" Troi screamed.

Picard involuntarily jumped at Counselor Troi's sudden outburst.  "What is it Counselor?"

Troi turned to him, nearly incoherent with fear, clutching her chest as if in terrible pain.  "You
can't let him do it Jean-Luc!  Please... stop him!" 

Picard shook his head, not understanding her, "Stop who, Deanna?"

"Captain!" Lieutenant Worf called out.  "The Excalibur's shield integrity has failed.  The Guild interceptor's have pulled away from her!"

Picard turned back to the viewscreen in time to see the eleven Guild ship's break off in the direction of the Gaia at high speed.  "What the hell are they doing?"

It was Data who offered a possible explanation. "It would appear that they intend to reinforce the Gaia's field integrity, in the same way that they were able to stabilize the Excalibur's defensive shield grid, Captain."         

"Please... please, call them back," Troi beseeched him, gripping Picard's arm with a strength he wouldn't have thought possible from so petite a woman.  

"It's out of our hands, Deanna," he said gently.  "There's nothing I can do."

Troi's eyes widened, and she began to hyperventilate.  "Dr. Crusher!  Emergency medical team to the bridge!" Picard called out, his own heart beginning to race.

"On my way!" Crusher responded promptly.

Riker got out of his seat and went across to Troi, trying to get her to release the Captain's arm.  It shocked him how cold her hand was!  "Deanna, Deanna, let go!"

She whirled her head around, not really focusing on him, almost as if she was watching something that no-one else could see.  "Will?  Will, please..."

"I'm right here, Deanna, it's all right.  I'm here."

"Captain, look!...

****

Srelal watched in fascination as the expanding corona around the Gaia shimmered, and then solidified. The R'Tal bounced like a child's toy, and then slowly crumpled, crashing into it's sister ship, as it seemed to fold in upon itself!  "That's no auto destruct sequence!  It's a weapon of some kind!" she hissed in dismay.

"Commander, the smaller Guild ship's are leaving their positions next to Excalibur!"

"Track them!" Srelal ordered.

"They are heading for the Gaia," the weapons officer reported.

At the same instant,  the Guild interceptor's rocketed into view, surrounding the Gaia at only a few meters distance from the larger vessel, whose corona was now flashing from red to blue, and then back again.  They took up positions in what was obviously a planned maneuver, Srelal thought, but she still had no idea what was really going on. Then the field around the Guild ship's began to glow, while at the same time, the Gaia's corona changed colour a final time, taking on a shade of blue so deep that it was almost indistinguishable from the surrounding space.  And then in a flash, the Gaia disappeared, and the corona contracted, sucking the interceptors in as it collapsed!

There was final burst of brilliant red, rippling out from the center in concentric circles, as the interceptors, and the hulks of her remaining cruisers all disappeared, as if crushed out of existence!

"Prepare for impact!" Srelal screamed, realizing at the last second that the concentric circles were visible shock waves...

****

It was Data who recognized the danger first.  "Captain, the Gaia's hyper-dynamic warp field has created a high energy shockwave!  Impact in twelve seconds!"

"Warn Excalibur and Hood, Data!" Picard responded, activating the collision alarm for the second time in two days..  "Helm, back us off! Full impulse power!  Mr. Worf, auxillery emergency power to the shields!"

"Aye, Sir!" Data, Worf, and Ensign Rho acknowledged simultaneously.

"Excalibur and Hood have both aknowledged our warning, Captain." Data stated calmly.

"All hands, brace for impact!" 

****

"Helm, get us the hell out of here!" Wilson shouted.

"Shockwave impact in seven seconds," Ursal reported from Tactical.

That wasn't a great deal of time, Wilson reflected.  But it just might be enough!  "Helm... new order!  Put us behind the Romulan warbird, let him absorb as much of the impact as possible!"

"The shockwave appears to be disappating more rapidly than expected, Captain," Ursal said.  
"Leading-edge contact in four seconds!"

Maybe they would get lucky for once, Wilson thought.  "Brace for impact!"

****

What could have been a hurricane ride, turned out to be little more than a less-than-gentle shove, for the Federation starships.  The brunt of the damage was born by the Romulan warship Ko'Leur, whose wings crumpled under this final insult to it's battered hull.  But's it's death proved to be Excalibur's salvation.

The Hood, able to stand off at what DeSoto considered a safe distance, waited until the last possible second, giving the Romulans the opportunity to initiate some action that might save their ship, before undertaking an emergency beam out of as many life-signs as they could lock on to...

****

The bridge crew of the Enterprise looked on in stunned silence as the Gaia and her escorts, friend and foe alike, disappeared into the gravity well created by the Guild ship's hyper-dynamic warp field.  At the instant the Gaia flashed out of existence, Troi's hand had slipped lifelessly from the Captain's arm.  Her breathing was irregular, coming in ragged little gasps, and tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks, spilling off her chin and making a wet spot on the front of her uniform.

Riker, kneeling down at her side, tried to comfort her, but she was completely oblivious to his presence.  It was as if she no longer cared about anything, so devastated was she by the loss of Kevin O'Donnell, he thought.  The Enterprise, her own life, his, none of it seemed to matter to her, and this frightened him as nothing else could have.  "Please, Deanna," he murmured.  "Talk to me...

His voice finally got through to her, and she looked at him then, her eyes focusing with difficulty on his face.  "Imzadi..." she whispered.  "He's gone.  He's left me alone... all alone."

Riker reached up to brush some of the tears from her cheeks.  "You're not alone, Deanna," he crooned to her, convinced that it was true.  "We're all here for you."

Troi shook her head in denial.  "Alone... all alone," she chanted softly, and then collapsed into his arms.

***

Chapter Twenty-Three

When Saalesh awoke, it was to find both Saavik and Spock hovering around her bed.  Dr. Crusher was also there, and smiled at her when she noticed that her eyes were open.  "How do you feel, Saalesh?" she asked.

"I am well, Doctor," Saalesh responded, realizing that she must have been injured in the last Romulan attack.  "How long have I been unconscious?"

"About two hours," Crusher replied.  "Don't try to get up too fast," she cautioned.  "You took a nasty bump on the head."

Saalesh reached up to feel the 'bump', somewhat surprised to find that there wasn't one.  Her surprise must have showed, because Crusher suddenly grinned.

"I was speaking figuratively, Saalesh.  You don't actually have a bump!"

"Oh," Saalesh said uncertainly, wondering why the Doctor would first tell her she had a bump on her head, and then inform her that there wasn't actually a bump.

Crusher just smiled at her again, and moved off, leaving her alone with Spock and Saavik.

"What has happened since I lost consciousness?" she asked.

It was Spock who responded to Saalesh's question. "The Gaia  and six of her interceptors, as well as two of the Romulan heavy cruisers, have disappeared," he said.  "Apparently as a result of the Guild ship engaging it's stellar-drive."

"What of the Ko'Leur?" 

"I assume you are referring to the Romulan flagship?" 

Saalesh nodded.  "Yes."

"The Romulan command ship was heavily damaged in it's engagement with Excalibur, and was finally destroyed by being caught in the remnants of an expanding gravity wave caused by the collapse of the Gaia's hyper-dynamic field."

"I see," Saalesh replied quietly.  "Were there any survivors?"

"I understand that some of the bridge crew survived," Spock answered without any trace of emotion.  "They have been taken aboard the Hood, and will be transported back to the Empire."

Again, Saalesh nodded in acknowledgement of Spock's reply, not indicating one way or the other whether or not she was satisfied with the information. Does Srelal still live, she wondered?

"Did you have friends aboard the Ko'Leur, little one?" Saavik asked.

Saalesh smiled at her mother's use of the diminutive name, but her reply to the question was serious. "Not really.  Commander Srelal and I had just transferred to the Ko'Leur recently.  One does not make friends quickly on the ship's of the Imperial Fleet."

"Not really?" Spock queried, arching an eyebrow, obviously surprised at Saalesh's use of the human expression.

Saalesh corrected herself immediately.  "No, Commander Spock.  I did not have any friends on the Ko'Leur, but I did have at least one enemy!"

"Are enemies easier to acquire in the Romulan military, Centurion?" Spock queried, a slightly sarcastic, very human, edge to his voice.

The question surprised both Saalesh, and Saavik, who turned and gave Spock a sharp look.  There was a moments silence between them, before Saalesh replied, "Perhaps it is easier to acquire enemies than friends, Commander.  Not just in the Fleet, but throughout the Empire!"  And then, unable to stop herself, she continued, "It is a circumstance that you will one day come to understand very well!"

"Indeed," Spock replied, his curiosity piqued by Saalesh's statement.

Their conversation came to a halt when Captain Picard's voice intruded over the intercomm.  
"Picard to Spock."

"Spock here," the Vulcan acknowledged.

"We are bringing the interceptor aboard now, Commander," the Captain informed them.  "I have ordered the corridors between sick-bay and shuttle bay two cleared of all personnel.  Please proceed to the shuttle bay," he continued.  "Commander Data will meet you there to go over the pre-launch checklist supplied by Dr. McLaughlin."

"Understood,Captain Picard," Spock replied.  "Cadet Saavik and I will be there momentarily."

"Very well, Picard out."

"Spock out."  Spock then turned to Saavik.  "We must go, Saavikam."

Saavik nodded, understanding the nessessity of their leaving as soon as possible.  She stroked Saalesh's forehead gently.  "Goodbye, little one.  I am glad that I have been given the opportunity to see you as a grown woman," she said simply.

Saalesh's eyes filled with tears, and she reached out and took her mother's hand.  "I have missed you so much, and now I must lose you again..."

"You more than anyone know that what we do must be done, your future depends on our return."

"That does not make this parting any easier for me, mother," Saalesh sighed.

"Nor for me, little one," Saavik replied softly. "But at least I can take solace from the fact that I will see you again."  She grasped Saalesh's hand, gently disentangling it from her own.  "Live long, and prosper, daughter..." she murmured, and then released Saalesh's hand, turning away quickly to preceed Spock out the door.

Spock turned to follow Saavik, then suddenly stopped in mid-stride.  He looked back at Saalesh for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then he asked quietly, "Will we meet again, Centurion?"

Saalesh found that she could not answer him, the words would not come out.

Spock's eyes narrorwed for an instant, as if her silence was in itself an answer to his question, and he nodded to himself.  "I take my leave of you, Saalesh... Until we meet again," he said, raising his hand in the Vulcan salute.  Then he turned back to the door, and was gone...

****

"S'dar to Excalibur."

"Go ahead, Commander," Captain Wilson responded to the hail.

"We have delivered the Guild interceptor to the Enterprise, Captain.  Request permission to return to the ship."

"Permission granted, S'dar," Wilson agreed. "You will have to use the docking ports starboard, both hangers are severely damaged, and won't be operational for at least an hour."

"Understood, Captain," S'dar acknowledged.  "Shuttle out."

After toggling the comm channel closed, Wilson slowly rotated her chair three hundred and sixty
degrees, surveying the damage to the Excalibur's bridge stations.  There was no doubt about it, she thought dismally, her ship was a mess!  It would be months before she was fully operational again!  Months in which a junior Captain could easily find herself  seconded to a ground duty assignment that might become a permanent posting, she reflected with some bitterness.

No, she thought, I am not going to let that happen!  Better to resign my commission than to accept a duty posting planetside.  There was no way she could see herself happy with such an assignment, far too much had happened for her to relenquish command of Excalibur without a fight.

Better not to think of that now, Wilson thought. We're going to have our hands full just getting back to starbase without flying apart at the seams.

"Situation report, Mr. Ursal," she demanded, trying to get her mind off the very real prospect of having to give up her command once they reached Starbase 173.

"Damage control reports that the spaceframe is intact, Captain," Ursal responded.  "Although there is some buckling of the internal struts on deck three." The Lieutenant glanced at his display monitor, before continuing, "Aside from the ruptured conduit on deck three, internal power distribution integrity is complete, and most of the peripheral systems should be back on line within six hours.  Warp power is available, but the Chief Engineer recommends that we proceed on impulse power until he can run a level three diagnostic on the bridge's control terminals."

Wilson nodded her agreement with the Chief Engineer's assessment.  "Understood, Lieutenant."

"There is one other thing, Captain," Ursal said.

Wilson turned her chair to face the Tactical Station. "What's that, Mr. Ursal?" she asked.

"Medical reports that they have found DNA traces bound into the molecular structure of the ruptured conduit on deck three."  Ursal hesitated for a moment before finishing his report.  "All of our personnel are accounted for, Sir..."

McFadden, Wilson thought.  The bastard was trying to sabotage my ship!  She swung her chair around to face the forward viewscreen.  Does the CMO have a rational explanation for this apparent inconsistency?" she asked.

Ursal cleared his throat before replying.  "Molecular pathology will be able to make a positive identification of the remains, once Starfleet Command supplies us with Commander McFadden's medical file."

Serves the sonofabitch right, she thought, grimly satisfied that the man had probably died while performing his act of treachery.  "Don't hold your breath, Lieutenant," Wilson said quietly, a cynical edge to her voice   "I doubt that Starfleet Intelligence will be very forthcoming with any information pertaining to Commander McFadden.  In fact," she continued bitterly, "It wouldn't surprise me in the least, if Starfleet Command were to reply that they have no record of a Commander McFadden!"

The Lieutenant did not offer any reply to his Captain's observation, preferring not to think about the implications of what she had said.

****

He hadn't intended to be there, but Picard decided at the last moment that he really had no choice but to see them on their way.  His conscience would not allow him to exercise any other option.

He and Saavik stood quietly together, as Spock and Data went over McLaughlin's pre-f light checklist. Picard found the silence between then heavy, but wasn't sure how to break it.  There was so much he wanted to say to her, so much he had to thank her for, and yet...

He couldn't say anything, he realized, without putting them all in jeopardy.  A carelessly turned phrase, an innocuous observation, might cause Saavik to do something differently than she normally would have done, and change history in the process.  Picard had not asked Saalesh how much she had told her mother, but perhaps he should have, he now thought.  Could Data be right, he wondered, that anything that happens to Saavik here has already happened, and so cannot be changed?  Could he really risk telling her anything about their past relationship?  Or, by not telling her, would he commit an error of omission that could have equally dire consequences for history?

Saavik watched Captain Picard fidget, sensing that there was something he wished to say to her, but that he was unwilling or unable to bring himself to say it.  How human, she thought, to not analyse the problem in a logical and rational manner, rather than maintain this ridiculous and uncomfortable silence.  She was acutely aware of the burden that Saalesh had placed upon her shoulders by telling her so much of what was to happen in her life, but logically, it made no sense to dwell on things that, for her, had not yet occurred.  All will come to pass as it should, she thought philosophically, deciding to ask Picard directly what was on his mind.

"You wish to tell me something, Captain Picard.  May I ask what?"

Picard turned, smiling at the directness of the question.  This was the Saavik that he remembered so well.  An officer who said what was on her mind, to hell with the consequences!  And there was still a part of him that could not refuse her anything she asked.  "'I never thanked you, for saving my career," he said.  "I have always regretted that omission."

Saavik had no idea what he was talking about. "It is not logical to thank me, Captain Picard, for something that I have not done.  Nor do I believe that thanks will be necessary for anything that I do in the future... my future," she amended.  "I do not intend to live my life in any other context than I would otherwise have lived it, because of what has happened here.  To do so, would also be illogical," she finished.

Picard thought he understood, and accepted what she said, nodding slowly in acknowledgment.  "A sensible attitude.  I'm not sure I could view it so philosophically."

"You are not Vulcan," she observed, making it sound perilously close to an insult, without really meaning to.

He was not offended, recognizing the comment for what it was, another example of her honesty:  He smiled again, remembering a time when he had not had such a charitable attitude toward Saavik's habit of speaking the plain truth, particularly when it came to the performance of junior officers under her command.

"Not being Vulcan is not a crime, Saavikam," Spock said quietly, frorn behind them.  "You would do well to learn to be more circumspect in your observations," he chided gently.  "Particularly, where humans are concerned."

"I meant no offence, Commander."

"It's alright, Spock," Picard interjected.  "My ego is not that easily bruised by Saavik's comments. I learned, a long time ago, to take her observations in the spirit in which they were intended."

Spock did not reply, understanding that Picard had known Saavik at some point in his life, and not wishing to know any of the details of that previous meeting.

"Is the pre-flight check completed?" Picard asked, changing the subject to somewhat safer ground.

"Yes, Captain," Spock replied.  "The program parameters laid out by Dr. McLaughlin were quite specific, and the interceptor's navigation computer has accepted the flight profile."

Picard took a deep breath.  "So, this is goodbye," he murmured, raising his hand in the Vulcan way. "Live long and prosper, Spock... Saavik."

Spock returned the gesture.  "Long life, and prosperity, Captain Picard."

Saavik did not say anything, at first.  She sensed that Picard had almost choked on her name, feeling perhaps that it was foolish to wish long life to a person that he already knew to be dead.  "I shall live a long life, Captain Picard..." she started to say, then stopped as the first wave of nausea hit her. Her legs felt suddenly weak, and she would have fallen, had Picard not been there to catch her.

"Dr. Crusher!  Report to Main Shuttle-bay, on the double!"

"On my way!" came Crusher's terse acknowledgment.

Data exited the Guild interceptor, and joined them, just as Picard gently lowered Saavik to the deck.  "The programmed countdown has commenced, Commander Spock," he stated.

"Saavik is ill," Picard pointed out.  "The departure must be delayed until Dr. Crusher has had a chance to examine her."

"That will not be necessary, Captain," Spock said neutrally, bending down and scooping up Saavik's limp form effortlessly.

"What do you mean?" Picard asked, prepared to argue with the Vulcan's statement.

"There is nothing that your doctor can do for her.  Delaying our departure will simply cause her
condition to worsen."  Then, seeing Picard's expression of incomprehension, Spock said simply, "It is the paradox, Saavik still lives in this time!"

Before Picard could say anything else, Spock whirled around, carrying Saavik in his arms, and boarded the Guild interceptor.  A few seconds later, the small ship's hatch closed with a whoosh, and it's landing gear retracted.  It hovered for a moment above the deck, before moving out of the shuttle-bay, and away from the Enterprise.

Picard watched them go, stunned, not sure if he had heard correctly.  Was it possible? he asked himself.  But if Saavik was still alive, where was she, and why did her own daughter believe her to be dead?

***

Epilogue

Captain's Log: Stardate___________

Comander Spook and Cadet Saavik have left the Enterprise.  If Data's calculations were correct, calculations based upon the formula provided by Dr. McLaughlin, they should have successfully returned to their proper place in the space-time continuum.  Having heard nothing to the contrary, it appears that part of this adventure has been brought to a successful conclusion.  Oddly enough, Admiral Turner may have inadvertently initiated events that ultimately led to the salvation of the Federation, in spite of his plan to launch an attack against the Romulan Empire.

As for Dr. McLaughlin himself, there is no trace. I have had Commander Data review the historical record, but he has found nothing to indicate one way or the other, what became of the Gaia and her escorts.  He has offered an interesting hypothesis, however.  Because of the bi-directional nature of the Guild ship's hyper-dynamic warp field, Data theorizes that the Gaia, her interceptors, and the two Romulan warships, may have gone forward in space-time.  If his speculation proves to be correct, the Federation may encounter McLaughlin and his followers yet again, only time will tell.

The Enterprise Task Force has been ordered back to Starbase 173 for a full debriefing of this incident. It should prove interesting, to say the least. Captain DeSoto has informed me that Admiral Turner's arrest has sent shock waves through the higher echelons of Starfleet Comand, and the Federation Council.  According to his sources, the Council has made contact with the Romulan Government, and has in fact requested that the Romulans send representatives to sit on a board of enquiry which has been formed to investigate this incident.  If the Pro-Consul of the Empire agrees to this proposal, it will be the first officially sanctioned meeting between the Federation and the Romulan Empire in nearly seventy years.  Perhaps, some good is to be accomplished, even from such a near disaster as we have just experienced...

Picard paused, wondering if he should not strike the last remark from his log entry.  It reflected some of the bitterness he felt for being forced into such a confrontation with the Imperial Fleet. The outcome of which, as he had stated for the log, was a near disaster.

Dr. Crusher had just shown him the final casualty figures from the Task-Force.  Nearly one hundred and fifty dead, with twice that number of personnel injured, many of them seriously.  We have a right to be bitter, Picard thought, but it isn't very professional of me to say so.

"Computer... strike last sentence from log entry," he ordered.

"Confirm... last sentence struck from official Captain's Log..."

Picard got up from his chair to stretch, considering how he should end his report.  In reality, he knew, there could be no end to the report until the investigation into how this incident had come about was completed, but he also knew that wouldn't be a satisfactory conclusion for his log either.

"Riker to Picard!"

"Picard here, go ahead, Number One."

"Captain, we're ready to proceed with the destruction of the derelict Romulan cruisers.  Hood and Excalibur have taken their positions."

"Understood, Commander.  I'm on my way." 

"Acknowledge."

****

On receiving the message from the Enterprise, Captain DeSoto toggled the switch on his command chair, opening the internal comm channel.  "DeSoto to Security."

"Security here, Lieutenant Crispo."

"Lieutenant," DeSoto acknowledged, "Escort the surviving senior Romulan officer to the bridge."

"Aye, Sir!"

DeSoto closed the channel   "Weapons status?" he inquired quietly of the Ensign manning the Tactical Station.

"Forward torpedo bays loaded, and armed, Sir!" 

"Very good, Ensign.  Standby."

DeSoto did not have long to wait.  Two burly security officers stepped off the turbo-lift a minute later, carefully guiding an anti-grav stretcher between them.

"Commander," DeSoto nodded a greeting to the Romulan lying on the stretcher.

The Romulan officer did not reply, glancing uncertainly around the starship's bridge, as if wondering what the Starfleet Captain had in mind.

DeSoto did not bother to enlighten her, instead slouching deeper into his chair, the picture of peaceful relaxation.

"Message from Enterprise, Captain," the Tactical Officer informed him a second later.

"On speakers," DeSoto ordered, straightening up in his seat.  "Ship-wide address protocol."

"Aye, Sir!  On speaker!" the Ensign acknowledged crisply.

****

"Inter-ship address protocols established, Captain," Lieutenant Worf announced.

Picard nodded an acknowledgment, standing up and giving the front of his uniform tunic a firm tug to straighten it.  He walked forward a few paces, coming to a stop half-way between the command arc and the forward bridge stations.  When he spoke, his voice was coldly formal.

"This is the Task-Force Commander, to all personnel on the starship's Enterprise, Excalibur, and Hood."  He paused deliberately, allowing his formal tone of voice to make the impression that he had intended, alerting the crews of the three ships to the seriousness of his next order.  
"Attention on deck!"

As one, the officers and enlisted personnel on board the Federation vessels, those that could stand, snapped to rigid attention.

"Tactical Officers, standby to fire!" Picard ordered.

On the Hood, DeSoto repeated Picard's order. "Standby to fire, Ensign," as the spherical tactical display came up on the main viewscreen, the target cursor centering on a point midway between the two derelict Romulan cruisers, the discovery of which had begun the events that were now coming to a close.

****

Captain Wilson, standing at attention with the rest of her bridge crew, could only watch, as Picard's next order was broadcast to the Task-Force.  Excalibur had no photon torpedoes left in her launchers.

"Fire!

****

A spread of three torpedoes streaked from the forward launchers on the Enterprise, followed a microsecond later by three more fired from the Hood. Timed to detonate at the same instant, the explosion of the six torpedoes obliterated all traces of the Romulan ships.

"All hand's, stand down," Picard said, his voice muted.  "Number One, you have the bridge."  He then turned on his heel and left the bridge without saying another word.

****

"Return to damage control stations," DeSoto murmured into the still open intercomm channel.  He then turned his chair to see the reaction of the Romulan officer lying on the stretcher beside him.

Srelal did not say anything for a moment, but she was moved by the honour the Federation Captain's had shown the fallen crew of the warbirds D'Tal and D'Tarn.  She had not known that humans were capable of honouring a fallen enemy.  And, she thought, perhaps the Captain of the D'Tal did not really deserve such an honour, but the sacrifice of his crew certainly deserved recognition! 

"I thank you formally for this, Captain DeSoto," she said finally.  "I did not suspect that the Federation indulged in such traditions."

DeSoto's expression was serious. When he answered Commander Srelal's unspoken question, his voice was low, speaking for her ears alone.  "We have leaned the hard way, Commander, that bravery is not limited to our species alone.  And bravery, no matter it's origin, deserves every honour we bestow upon it."

Srelal did not reply to DeSoto's remark.  But as she looked into the eyes of the human Captain, for the first time she detected a glimmer of understanding there, in the gaze of this enemy who had lived among the stars, as she had.  Who had , through no choice of his own, become intimately acquainted with quick and violent death, and lived to consider all of it's implications.

"I take my leave of you, Captain DeSoto." 

"Very well.  Goodbye, Commander," DeSoto replied, motioning the security officers over to pick up the stretcher.

****

The door to her quarters slid quietly closed behind her, and Troi simply stood there, wondering what point there was in continuing her life on the Enterprise   She reached out with her mind, yet again, but he was gone, and nothing she could do would ever bring him back.  "Oh Kevin..." she sobbed softly to herself, letting the despair take hold of her.  "Why? ... Why did you have to do it?"

****

The door chimed, causing Picard to put down the padd he had been working on, setting aside the task of composing his official deposition for the Board of Enquiry.

"Come!"

Saalesh stood uncertainly on the threshold of his quarters for a second, before gliding into the room.  "You wished to see me, Captain Picard?"

"Yes, please come in, Saalesh," he replied, offering her a chair.

She accepted the seat he offered her, folding herself neatly into the chair, still somewhat uncomfortable with the close fitting jump-suit she had exchanged for her Romulan uniform.

"Your Vulcan citizenship has been confirmed," Picard began.  "I thought you would like to know
immediately."

"Thank you, Captain," Saalesh replied politely, rising slightly from the chair, as if making ready to leave.  "Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

Anything else? Picard asked himself.  He wanted to ask her about her mother, still bothered by Spock's last words before boarding the Guild interceptor, wondering if it could be true?  'Saavik still lives in this time'.  Was that really possible, and if so, why did Saalesh believe her to be dead?  Sixteen years, he thought, could anyone survive captivity in the Romulan Empire for so long?  Was she even a captive?

All these thoughts passed through his mind, but he didn't quite have the nerve to bring up such a sensitive subject.  The young woman sitting across from him had just lost her mother for the second time, and yet there she sat, politely attentive, as if nothing in the universe was bothering her. How could she be so calm in the face of what she had just been through?

She is Spock's daughter, came the answer unbidden into his mind.  And it showed!  Although physically, she was the spitting image of her mother, her poise, the careful way she thought through what she was about to say before she said it, that part of her personality came from Spock. Saavik's fire was there as well, he thought.  But tightly contained, generations of Vulcan genetics helping her to control the more volatile side of her nature.

He dismissed any thought of mentioning her mother from his mind, and instead asked quietly, "Have you given any thought to what you might do now, Saalesh?"

She eased herself back down into the chair, caught off guard by Picard's question.  In truth, she had given little consideration to her future, so great had been her relief at leaving the Empire.  Now that she was finally free of her obligations to the Imperial Fleet, she realized that she would have to find something to do with the rest of her life.  There was of course the vague notion that she would like to remain aboard the Enterprise, but she didn't have any idea how that could be possible. From what she had seen so far, Saalesh had been given the distinct impression that some people in the Federation were just as paranoic, and xenophobic, as anyone in the Romulan Empire.  So, it was unlikely that a former officer of the Imperial Fleet would be welcome on a Starfleet vessel.

"I have honestly not given much thought to my future, Captain Picard," she finally admitted in response to his question.

"I see," Picard replied, seeing the flicker of uncertainty, so brief that it might have been missed by someone who had not spent as much time as he among Vulcans.  "May I make a suggestion?" he asked sympathetically.

"I would deeply appreciate your counsel in this matter, Captain."

Picard leaned back slightly in his chair.  He was about to repay an old debt, and he took some comfort from the fact that at times fate conspired to bring things full circle.  He had once been the catalyst for a series of events that had ultimately resulted in the loss of Saalesh's mother.  But now, if she was agreeable, he would give back to the Federation some of what it had lost.  In the process, returning a kindness once done to him by an officer who bore the unfair reputation of being cold and aloof.  I wonder what Counselor Troi would think, Picard reflected, if she knew that my 'command style', such as it is, was modelled on her's?

"Starfleet Academy," he began, "has an Accelerated Officer Training Program, designed for candidates who already have commissions in the space-fleets of non-aligned powers.  With your Vulcan citizenship, and your experience as a commissioned officer in the Romulan Imperial Fleet, I believe that you would qualify for the program."

"The Empire could hardly be considered a non-aligned power, Captain," Saalesh pointed out realistically.

"That is true," Picard admitted.  "But your's is a special case, being a citizen of a Federation planet, and the fact that your training was acquired in the Romulan Empire, does not mean that it could be considered second-rate in any respect."

"Second-rate?" she queried, not understanding the term.

"Sub-standard," Picard amended.

"I see," she replied, dryly amused.  "No, Captain Picard, my training could definately not be considered sub-standard," she said, remembering the harshness of her education.  Ninety out of every hundred candidates dismissed in shame the first year alone.

"You would be willing to apply then, Saalesh?" Picard asked directly.

"Is there not some sort of sponsorship requirement?" she asked, a vague memory of her mother telling her how Spock had sponsored her own appointment to the Academy, coming to the surface of her mind.

Picard smiled.  "Yes, but I don't foresee any difficulty in that regard.  I believe the Captain of the USS Enterprise will be a suitable sponsor," he concluded, still smiling.

Saalesh's shock was absolute.  "You would do such a thing for me?" she asked in amazement.

"The short answer to your question is... yes, I would," he replied, wondering if she could ever truly understand the depth of his relationship with her family.  That, because of his mind-meld with Spock's father, Sarek.  And later on Romulus, with Spock himself, he almost felt as if he were a part of her family!

Saalesh bowed her head, seeking control over the sudden sweep of her emotions, her all encompassing gratitude.  "Your confidence in my abilities does me a great honour, Captain Picard.  I accept."

"Excellent!  I think you'll make a fine officer, Saalesh."

"You will not be disappointed, Captain," she vowed, both to him, and to herself as well!

****

Troi sat at the desk in her quarters, her mood gloomy, the lighting dimmed.  She didn't think she could stand any brightness in her life right now, even that provided by artificial illumination.

Getting up from her seat, she wandered around her living room, picking things up off the tables, and putting them down just as quickly, at a complete loss, finally going back to her desk to slump into the chair.  She didn't feel like doing anything, she felt numb, as if the events of the past few days had happened to another person, and she was some kind of disinterested observer, standing on the sidelines of her own life.

At different times over the past hour or so, several people had come to her door, trying to talk to her, but she had brushed them all off.  Their reactions to her firm dismissals, had ranged from polite acceptance, on the part of Data, to concern, and even anger, from Beverly and Will Riker.  She didn't care what they thought, one way or the other.  For once, their feelings were completely irrelevant to her.

The door chime intruded on her misery once again. She ignored it, but whomever was seeking entrance was insistent, and it continued to chime.  "Go away!" she finally screamed at the door.

There was a pause, and then the chime sounded again, infuriating her, and forcing her to get up to answer it.

"What do you want?" Troi asked, as she stabbed the 'door open' command on the control pad, stunned to find herself face-to-face with Saalesh.

"I am sorry to intrude upon your grief, Counselor Troi," the young woman began politely.  "Please excuse me, but I feel I must talk to you."

There was something about the way she said it, polite, but with a firmness that told Troi she was not about to be dismissed as easily as the other's, that caused the Counselor to stand aside.  Giving her tacit, if noncommittal, acquiescence to Saalesh's intrusion.  Troi's empathic senses told her that the young Vulcan was also feeling a deep sense of loss, and she made the assumption that it was these feelings of grief that had overcome Saalesh's natural respect for her own privacy.

"I will not disturb you any longer than necessary, Counselor," the Vulcan said quietly, coming to a halt just inside the door.  "But it has occurred to me that you and I have experienced a similiar loss, and that perhaps I can offer a perspective on your grief that you yourself lack."

Troi cocked her head to the side, concentrating her senses, and staring deep into Saalesh's extraordinary eyes, as if trying to fathom something that had just occurred to her.   "You were in my mind," she exclaimed with sudden insight.  "When I probed McFadden, you were there!"

Saalesh nodded in the affirmative, experimenting with this human mannerism.   Yes, Counselor," she admitted.  "And because of that experience I feel, rightly or wrongly, that I know you as no-one else aboard the Enterprise can possibly know you."

Troi slowly nodded her own acceptance of the Vulcan's observation.  "Go on."

Saalesh hesitated, not sure she had any right to intrude upon Troi, but feeling strangely responsible for her, now that they had shared the intimacy of their unintended mind-to-mind contact.  "During your probe of McFadden's psyche, Counselor, I sensed your loneliness," she began, "And loneliness is something with which I am intimately acquainted."

Troi could sense the truth of this.  She could feel the sadness with which Saalesh spoke these words, and it touched something deep inside her. She reached out, briefly touching Saalesh's arm. Offering the young woman the comfort of physical contact, a contact that she sensed Saalesh needed, even as she realized that it was something that she needed just as badly herself.

Saalesh sighed, then took a deep breath before continuing.  "When my mother died, Counselor Troi, I found that I did not really know who she was, even though our relationship, our mother-daughter relationship, was very strong.  After her death, I found that I needed to know more.  I needed to understand how she had come to be who she was. An officer in Starfleet, a wife, a teacher... She was all of these things.  And yet to me she was just my mother, and it wasn't enough to remember her in that way alone, when there were so many other aspects to her personality."

"Kevin and I never really had the chance to just talk," Troi offered.  "We knew each other so intimately on the psychic level, that somehow it didn't seem necessary, there would have been plenty of time for that, if..."

"That is exactly my point, Counselor," Saalesh said with conviction.  "Now that he is gone, it is necessary that you find out all you can about him, about his history!  It will help you to deal with your grief.  Isn't it true," she continued, "That to understand how you feel, it is necessary to appreciate exactly what it is that you have lost?"

Troi's eyes filled with fresh tears.  "I have lost everything..."

"As have I, Counselor," Saalesh murmured.  "Nonetheless, we live, while those we loved are gone. And we must continue to live, so that we can honour their memories." She paused, trying to find the right words.  "Finding out what it was that drove my mother's character, has allowed me the rare privilege of discovering what a truly unique individual Saavik was."

Troi finally understood.  "Thank you, Saalesh," she said, again reaching out to her on impulse, and giving her a gentle hug.

Much to her own surprise, Saalesh found herself responding to the Counselor's embrace, as if it were the most natural thing in the universe.  And perhaps it was, she thought, knowing now that both of them were caught between two cultures, the human part of themselves sometimes at odds with the other parts.

"I take my leave of you now, Counselor," she said, calmly disengaging herself from Troi's arms,
and with a final look into her eyes, turning to go out the door.  Taking with her, the pleasantly warm feeling of having found a friend.

Troi watched the door close behind her, suddenly regretting her harsh treatment of the others who had come to her, trying to help, but not knowing exactly how.  She walked back over to her desk and sat down, not feeling better exactly, but feeling a little less bad.  It was not a startling improvement, but it was an improvement.  And she knew, as she had counselled others in the past, that with time, the aching hurt would begin to fade.  I will never get over your loss, Kevin, she thought sadly, but I owe it you and myself, to get past it.

"Computer... access historical data base, planet Earth."

"...define specific parameters of data base search," the computer requested.

Troi leaned back in her chair, briefly closing her eyes against the stab of pain that again threatened to overwhelm her   "Tell me everything you can about the Celtic clan, O'Donnell," she finally responded to the computer's question.  "Start at the very beginning..."

THE  END