_______________
"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 its 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 Klingon Empire and the Federation was
maintained.

Picard sighed.  The likelihood of Data overcoming the prejudiced
attitude that was still held by some members of Starfleet, 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 its whim.  How sad, thought Picard, that the Federation
could have come so far in technological terms, and yet still harbor
such primitive attitudes.  Data's creator, Dr. Noonan 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 Starfleet Command graphic for a few seconds, before requesting voiceprint
identification.

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

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

The Starfleet 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 exceptionally well, 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 that may never present itself
again.  I'm not sure Starfleet can 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 that spoke volumes about what they thought of Turner's
suggestion.

Turner continued before either of them could respond.  "The Excalibur 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 favor 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
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 Romulan 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."

"It 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 that 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 Starfleet
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 remembrance 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 over the 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 flavor 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 him.  Strange, she thought, I can always recall a
dream.  Why can't I remember this one?  The shrill sound of her combadge
interrupted 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 Riker was now awake.



****


Chapter One: Part Two- Plain Text

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.  "Starfleet 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 its 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 Starfleet 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 its most unusual aspect, 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 McLaughlin'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 labeled as an international
criminal by the authorities of the time?", Geordi asked incredulously.

"McLaughlin was also considered a rebel, Geordi, with 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 its
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 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 Riker 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."

Riker 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 all aboard her!" 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?" Riker inquired.

"The Guild's charged photon weapons, are very similar 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. 
Report to my ready room when you've completed your analysis.  This
meeting is concluded, dismissed."


****
Chapter Two: Part One

Deanna sat looking out at the stars that seemed to hang just outside
the huge, floor to ceiling, observation windows in the Ten-Forward
lounge. Ten-Forward was always a 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
Undercurrent of 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 me? 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 of a cascading rainbow of
color 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 rumors 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, Starfleet 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 peremptorily, 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 Starfleet 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 say something, 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. 

Dr. Charles McLaughlin brought the Guild together 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 antigravity 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 Zephram Cochrane, an  engineering
student at Starfleet 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 that 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 amongst 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 gray in color,
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 communication 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 McFadden 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."



****


Chapter Two: Part Two

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 occurred 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 wrong, 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
making.  "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
twenty fourth century," 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 conduction."

"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-sustaining, continuously 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 hardware 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 that 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 self contained 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 judgment 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 that 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 that 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 matter of 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 color 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 humor 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 ability 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
judgment, and that her feelings about Wilson were colored 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
crewmembers 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 de-cloaked 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 and Geordi'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 coordinating 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 color, 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 color 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 Romulans, 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 honor!" 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, colored 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 visualize 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 accommodating 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 impasse, 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 Picard's 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 aggressive 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 Romulans' 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 occurred."

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 savoring
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 Starfleet 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."


****


Chapter Three - Part Two

"Roger Excalibur, we copy your transmission, Picard out."  Picard
signaled 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 its 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!"  Riker got up to head to the turbo-lift.

"Captain," Worf interrupted, "Permission to accompany Commander Riker to
the Transporter Room."  He turned to Riker, who was halfway to the
turbo-lift.  "No offence, Commander," the Klingon growled, "But even and
unarmed Romulan 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 honor,
and no amount of association with his human crewmates 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 its target.

Riker appreciated Worf's restraint, he knew that Klingons were easily
offended, and the Romulan had gone out of her way to insult him. 
Strange, Riker thought, the enmity between Romulans and Klingons,
considering 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 color.  Her features were finely chiseled, her
skin color unusually light for a Romulan, dark upswept eyebrows gave
her a singularly exotic look, and her eyes were... gold! That was the
only color 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!"

Riker 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 its weapons system,
the derelict opened fire, seriously damaging the cruiser, and killing
its 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 defense 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 Starfleet 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-defense." 
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 committing 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 occurring 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
Starfleet Captain.  Military secrets were something not 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 its 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.

"All right, 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 honor of covering our withdrawal!"

"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,
Riker 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 color,
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 its original color, 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 color 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
harbor 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 color 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
Romulan 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 its 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 that eased Riker'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 Riker."

"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 mischief 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 Romulan 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 equal ally strong movement toward
that end within the whole of the Romulan Empire.

Recently, I was made aware of a situation that may have grave
consequences for the Federation, and the tenuous movement of which I am
a part.  It would seem that the Imperial Fleet has been sent into action
against a hitherto unknown 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
combat is moving toward Federation space. Herein lies a potential
opportunity to further the cause of peace between the Federation and the
Romulan 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
kilometers, 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 its
primary method of propulsion.  As you are aware, this will greatly
complicate the tactics needed to mount an effective defense 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 its 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.

****
Chapter Five-Part Two


Picard tapped his communicator, opening the intership 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 honors 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- Part One


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-judgmental, 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
bi-directional, hyper-dynamic warp field as its 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 color."

"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, its 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 its green color.  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
analyze 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 its 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 communiqué 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 traveled 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 its
start point.  The practical application of such a theoretical principle
may have unforeseen 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 its 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?" Riker 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 its 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
scout craft.  They may have found something that could be useful in
detecting 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 Srelal 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 departing 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 Starfleet 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 Starfleet bureaucracy who had never traveled 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 warp field, possibly causing everything within
the smaller field to disappear into sub-spatial 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 warp field.  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 decide 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 its 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 its strategic 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 abruptly 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 judgment."

"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.


****
Chapter Six - Part Two

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 Klingons!"


"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."

"All right 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 humor,
Commander!"

"I do not have a sense of humor, 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 scrambled 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 subtle 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 counseled 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 harbor
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 judgment, 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 laissez-faire 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 misinformation?" 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-analyze 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 colored with the knowledge that she was now a de facto
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 Starfleet 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 humor
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!"


****
Chapter Seven - Part Two

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 itself 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 Starfleet 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?" 

Troi 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 Starfleet'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 Riker.  Because
Will was human, he was not consciously aware of the bond, but that did
not lessen its 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 with 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 its 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 far away 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 meantime 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 likelihood, 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 launch 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 occurring, 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, Starfleet 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 impasse 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 analyze the physical layout of the
scout-craft interior in an attempt to gain some insight into the
methodology behind its 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 efficient 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 its
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 its
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-craft'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 its
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
necessarily 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 responsible if she commits any act that endangers
this vessel.  Understood!"

"Understood, Captain," S'dar replied, accepting the responsibility for
the Romulan officer's good behavior.

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
honors 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 astrophysics community to its
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
Zephram 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 its 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!"


****
Chapter Eight - Part Two

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
ill equipped 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 likelihood, 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 transfer 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 incredulously.

"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 twenty-first 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 transmitted signal is keyed  to high-intensity
strobe lights located on both the fore and aft sections of the primary
hull.  By phase shifting the color 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 receive our
transmission, 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 its 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 tricorder.

"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 Sickbay."

"Aye, Sir!" Riker jumped to comply with the order.  His relief at being
able to keep an eye on Counselor 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 color 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 Sickbay.  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 berated 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 frustration 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 its 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 judgment 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 likelihood 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 his fingers from
the contact points on Saalesh's face. She hadn't expected the mind-meld
to end so quickly.

The same thought occurred 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 its 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
analyze 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 junction 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 going 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 humor.  He had
spent enough time on the border of the Neutral Zone to know that Romulan
humor 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 starships 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 intraship 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. Exercise 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 scrutiny 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 Starfleet
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 exercise 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 vengeance, 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 its
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 its 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 interstellar 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.'1

"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 judgment 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?


****
Chapter Ten - Part Two

"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 judgments 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 harbored 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 honors 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
Sickbay.   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 likelihood, 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
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 harbored 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 constitution 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 its 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
exhaustion, 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 harbored 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 humor
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.


****
Chapter Eleven - Part Two

"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 priority
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 humor,
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 occurred 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 its 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 override
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 its 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 android'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 humor 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 unnecessarily 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
humor 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, completely 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 perspective
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 guarantee 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 its 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
honor?  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 becoming unstable," Saalesh
warned.  "Power transfer to the field grid is down by twenty-two
percent!"

"Stabilize," Data ordered calmly, frowning as he tried to analyze 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 its 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 its 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 dryly. "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 its 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
asteroid 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.


****
Chapter Twelve - Part Two

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 its 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 its 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
un-Vulcan lapse, she knew, but she found that she couldn't help herself. 
I'll try to be Vulcan tomorrow, 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
favorite 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 analyzed.   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
treasures, 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 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 geosynchronous 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 - Part One


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 Starfleet 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 innately 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 stations 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 preempting 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
court-martialed, 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 its 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 occurred in the middle of his secret mission to Romulus, during a
sometimes 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 that had been done by the Enterprise's former Chief Medical
Officer, Katherine Pulaski.

"The lack of judgment 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 judgment.

"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 that 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 reconnaissance?"

"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 that 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!"



****
Chapter Thirteen - Part Two

"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
maneuvering 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 color, 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 its 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 that went into its 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 corridor
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 deja
vu, Centurion.  Among that species, it is a fairly common occurrence,
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 deja 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 deja 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 deja 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 that 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 deja 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 its 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.

"Unknown 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 ellipse 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 its 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 its 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 that 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 over watch 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'Leur
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, preferring to ignore for the moment, the fact that she might
very well be right.


****
Chapter Fourteen - Part Two

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 eventuality 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 short-lived, but
spectacular, conflagration. Although the entire incident lasted less
than a millisecond, 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 occurred 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 its 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 viewscreen motion, but he was able to
tell from his OPS monitors what had occurred.  "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 its previous
attitude. As she scanned the bridge stations, she realized that someone
was missing.  "Where the hell is Commander Davis?"

"Commander Davis was coordinating 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 maneuver 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 its 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 Sickbay. "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 that 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 its 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 color, 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, its
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-Part One


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 its landing gear struts were hanging at an odd
angle, making it obvious that the small craft could not support its 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.  Its 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 vacuumed 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 that 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 laser-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 Sickbay 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
colorful 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 that 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, S'dar."

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 Sickbay. 
Any crewmember 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 its 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 Sickbay 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 thought 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
humor. Never one to pass up an opportunity for witty repartee, 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 coordinating
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 court-martialed.  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
its 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 Sickbay.  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.


****
Chapter Fifteen-Part Two

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 occurred, Saalesh called the Vulcan woman by name!

"Saavik?"

The newcomer did her best to ignore the Centurion as she walked over 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 Starfleet 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 foreseeable
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 that 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 irreversibly altered or
alternately, the events, which were now occurring in real-time, had already
occurred 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 response 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."

"All right, 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 that 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
guaranteed.  Excalibur was in serious danger!  "I concur with your
analysis of the options, Captain," Data said.  "But unfortunately the
Gaia is unable to contact its 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 occurred?  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 that 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 mysteries to Data.  Although he had come to view his creator, Dr.
Noonan 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