THE ROMULAN STRATAGEM
By: ROBERT GREENBERGER


Historian's Note
This adventure takes place several months after the sixth-season episode
"Face of the Enemy."


FADING STARLIGHT seeped through the small window in the alcove of the
bedroom. The dim light fought the room's darkness, enabling Daithin to
slip into his chosen uniform of the day without disturbing his still-
slumbering wife. She had earned her long morning's nap after years of
getting up and preparing him and their children for one kind of battle or
another. Rough hands, starting to stiffen with age, stuffed pant legs into
boots, and the man marveled--for the thousandth time--just how quiet and
peaceful and utterly impossible life had become.
Each time he awakened and didn't hear the sound of mortar fire or water
slapping against the side of a boat as it crept into harbor under cover of
fog, Daithin was surprised.
Silently, thick fingers filled his tiny belt pouches with bits and pieces
of his orderly life.
Daithin was not sure how he felt about the coming day.
He had slept well, remarkable enough given the importance of the events to
come, and was curiously at peace with himself despite the aches that were
his constant companions--unwanted souvenirs of war. No surprise, though--
he had spent months preparing for this moment, one he was sure would
forever enshrine his name and his family's in Eloh's history books.
 Creeping slowly toward his wife, he leaned over
and kissed her gently on the forehead, receiving a
satisfied sigh in return. As she turned over
he left the room and with measured, practiced steps
made his way down the hall, past the children's wing.
Children, he mused. They were still his children, although one was
destined to marry in half a year and the other was completing
her studies half a world away.
Shandra, living amongst the Dar. He shook his
head in wonder. Twenty years ago, she would have
been studying how to kill them. Now, they were teaching her
how to help their world survive. It truly was the age
of miracles.
Her room was empty now, as was Danith's,
silent monuments to his wife's success in raising
them despite the odds. Daithin considered himself
fortunate, having two fine offspringmalive, no
less--at the tail end of the bitterest, bloodiest
chapter in his planet's history.
At least, he hoped it was the tail end.
He entered the kitchen, where a small carafe had
already filled up with kintare. The tart smell brought
a smile to his lips and reminded him of the
pride his wife took in raising the fruit from which the
hot drink was made. Her abilities with natural
things--plants, animals, children were a constant source
of amazement and pride to Daithin.
He sipped his drink, enjoying the thick taste and the
silence. Events were building to a crescendo now:
within the span of a fortnight, Eloh would be
irrevocably changed. And so would his life. It was
time for him to rest. Over the span of seven decades
he had seen far too much battle, killed far too
many innocent people, made far too many decisions based
on instinct and whim rather than a balanced knowledge of the
facts. Daithin had grown wiser over those years of
decision making but those first infant years still weighed
heavily on him. He constantly reconsidered
actions, siring facts and situations over and over again
in his memory, hoping to find some better way
to resolve a given conflict. Often he had
managed to find different Solutions, but then he was
lost in wondering if they were better ones.
The drink finished and starlight rapidly giving
way to a bright dawn, Daithin rose from his seat,
dusted some stray lint off his sleeve, and strode out
of his home.
Waln, as always, was standing out in the street
'waiting for him.
Daithin looked his friend over, and smiled. "You
look good today, Governor," he began, a hint of
frost coming from his breath.
"And you look terrible," the older man snapped.
"That uniform is too tight on you."
"My wife's cooking," Daithin replied,
patting his stomach and letting out a chuckle. "Come
now, Waln--why are you being so snappish?"
"Do you have to ask?" Waln said. He barely
looked over at his old friend as they began walking.
"You know how I feel. We're not ready for this!
None of us is. The Cooperative Defense
Projects are going to be stalled for another month
at least, and you can bet the Dar won't let any
construction begin until they receive assurances about their
existing weaponry, and the conductor general is not going
to start disarmament until he receives assurances that his
office will be free from any legislative
interference, and..."
Wain continued his usual litany of complaints about
the Unified Government's failings as the two men
strolled past home after home, most with windows
shuttered and lights still out. People in government usually
rose much later, he knew, and he was
initially considered a bit odd for the early days he
put in. A legacy of his life as a soldier.
"--So it's ridiculously early to consider
putting any further strain on these alliances. The
governors all agree with me, you realize, andre"
Daithin shook his head. "That's not how they voted,
Waln. You know that."
"Well, you know how I voted." Wain looked
down and kept walking. "They'll bite our hands
off."
"My, you're in rare form this morning," Daithin
replied, trying to keep the mood light. They had
had this same debate almost every morning for the last
week.
Wain was having none of it, though. "I do not for the
life of me understand your urgency," he said. "We
argued and debated for months at a stretch, and then
one day you announced we would have a vote. You never
pushed through a vote before in your life. Why now?"
Daithin stopped in his tracks and turned to Wain.
In that instant, he saw not his lifelong friend, the
soldier who had fought by his side for a quarter
century, the general who had been among the first to declare
his support for the Unified Government, but a tired,
scared old man, afraid of any further
change in a lifetime that had already seen the world turned
upside down. And in that moment, Daithin had a
sudden urge to grab his friend's shoulders and shake him,
and tell him the truth.
Why did I press this decision? Daithin
wanted to say. Because the Grand Alliance is on the
verge of falling apart, Wain! Neither you nor any
of the other governors have learned to set aside your
clan interests and put Eloh's first. And if the
disarmament issue doesn't push us all back
into civil war, something else will. This is the only thing
that can possibly save us!
But there's another reason, old friend, maybe the
most important of all.
Because I'm going to die soon man I want
to make sure my world, and my son, and my daughter,
and all the others I care about--survive.
Daithin said none of that, though. Instead, he
simply smiled and clapped Wain on the shoulder.
"You trusted me to know when the time was right to mako
peace with the Dar," he said. "And I was right about that,
wasn't I? Trust me now, Wain. It was as
important to make this decision--now, at this very
time."
Waln looked up at him and shook his
head.
"I do trust you, Daithin, but with all my heart,
I believe that the decision you have forced upon us now is
wrong. Catastrophically wrong." Waln paused
a moment, and looked his friend in the eye. histo am not
alone in believing this, you know."
"I know," Daithin replied. "But it is your
opposition that wounds me the most."
"I do not intend to wound you, Daithin. Only
to serve my world--my people as I see best." His tone
was uncharacteristically grave and made Daithin acutely
uncomfortable.
The two walked on in silence, until they finally
came to the parliament. The building was set off from
all others by a vast ring of greenery that added pomp and
circumstance to the structure. Morning sunlight was
reflecting off windows both clear and frosted,
twinkling as if it bid the duo greeting.
A half-dozen guards stood flanking the main
entrance. Daithin's heart skipped a beat. Something
was wrong.
As he watched, a younger man in civilian
clothing detached himself from the soldiers and strode
briskly forward to meet them. Daithin relaxed
slightly as he recognized his chief
aide, Larkin.
"Good morning, Governor," Larkin said to Wain.
Then he turned and gave his full attention
to Daithin.
"Premier--they're early. They will achieve
orbit within the hour. Our first meeting with them will
follow an hour after that." Larkin's eyes
glittered. "In less than two hours, sir, you
will be making direct contact with people from a distant star.
It's remarkable."
Daithin smiled. It was good to see someone else
excited about what the day would bring. "I promise
you, Waln," he began, turning to his friend, "you will
have no cause to regret today's events. I--"
He stopped talking, because the governor had already
stalked away and was even now entering Parliament".
"Something wrong, sir?" Larkin asked.
Daithin shook his head. "The governor is not
thrilled about our visitors, Larkin."
"You know what they say, sir," his aide
replied. "The future waits for no man."
Larkin's earne/s made Daithin smile.
"Well, Larkin," Daithin said, taking his first step
toward the parliament building, "the future will have
to wait just a little while for me--at least
until I've had another cup of kintare."
"Yes, sir," Larkin said, falling into place
beside him. The younger man took out a sheaf of paper from
the folder he was carrying and began to read from it. "You
should know that the leaders of the trade council have agreed
to attend the evening session with our visitors, so
I've moved that session to the Main Assembly, and
arranged dinner for an additional fifty THE
ROI-KIULAN STRATAGEM
people with the staff. I've also arranged tours of the
purification facility, the council sessions, and the
youth league. Your first meeting..."
As Larkin reviewed the day's schedule, Daithin
felt himself begin to relax and the unpleasant aftertaste
of his argument with Waln fade away. The governor
will see I'm right, he told himself, once he
meets with our visitors.
And if Waln didn't like today's guests, well
then--perhaps tomorrow's would be more to his liking.
SCREAMING. That was the first thing Ensign Ro Laren
heard as
conthe lift doors opened. Then the smell hit
her. Smoke. "Computer," she began, hitting the
hallway at a dead run. "Identify source of
fire. Locate."
There was no response. As she had feared. The
fire must "have damaged the audio interface.
Damn. It would take her precious seconds
to find the fire on her own. She hoped those
seconds weren't too costly.
Ro had been heading to her quarters when the lift
she was in had been brought to an abrupt halt by the
ship's computer systems on this floor. To allow her
to render assistance, she surmised--and to allow others
a chance to escape the fire.
She turned a corner and blinked. The hall before
her was filling rapidly with smoke. The screaming here
was louder, more insistent.
Children, she realized suddenly. The fire was in one
of the Enterprise's classrooms. The one right before
her.
She forced the door open, and stepped into chaos.
It was an electrical fire, she saw
instantly. Sparks escaped from behind the wall
paneling with little hisses and pops. Children shrieked and
ran away from the wall, scurrying around the
corridor, at first unsure where to turn. The blown
circuits continued to create their own cacophony,
trying to make themselves heard over the children. Their teacher
pushed them back, making calming noises in
the back of his throat. "This way!" Ro shouted.
"This way out!"
The children nearest her looked up and began moving
toward her--too slowly. They were still too scared--and
too young--to react intelligently. She needed
help.
With swift strides Ro moved toward their teacher,
an unremarkable man of about fifty with a slight
stoop to his shoulders, who was standing before the computer
display on the far wall. The fire had originated
from there, she saw instantly. Short circuit.
"Sir, please move out of the way so I can shut
this console down." Even as she spoke, her eyes were
scanning the wall for a fire suppression device.
There. "I need your help in getting the children out."
The man looked up, glanced at her a second,
and then--incredibly--returned his attention to the
computer display before him.
"I almost have the circuits rerouted," he said.
"A minute more and I'll be able to stop the
malfunction from spreading."
"We don't have time for that now," Ro said
urgently. She reached behind the wall panel next
to her for the fire suppression device, grabbed it, and
moved next to the console. "Sir," she
repeated. "Please--step aside."
"One minute more," the man said, sweat pouring down
his brow. "I'll have it." This was insane. The fire
was less dangerous than THF ROMULAN
STRATAGEM
she had initially thought, but it was bad enough. And every
second it continued, the potential for a catastrophe
existed. She had no time to argue.
With her free hand she grabbed the back of the man's
shirt and ripped him away from the computer interface.
He landed hard against the far wall, the thud a quiet
sound compared to the spreading fire.
Ro snapped off the safety lock on the fire
suppression device, and a second later a stream
of foam poured forth. The console shut down--and
moments later the fire was out. Within minutes uniformed
engineers had arrived to handle the situation. They
thanked Ro for her work and then ignored her.
By the time she reached her cabin, she'd turned her
mind to the thousand and one other things she had to do aboard
the starship.
She honestly never expected to hear anything else
about the fire.
"You certainly have a way with people," William
Riker said as the observation 1ounge's
door swooshed closed behind her. The first officer,
tall and broad, leaned over the chair at the head
of the table, near the doorway.
"Thank you, Commander," Ro said. "Do you mean in
general, or do you have a specific person in mind?"
"Gregori Andropov," Riker said.
Ro frowned. "I don't know the man."
"You nearly tossed him through a bulkhead
yesterday, Ensign," Riker continued.
"Oh," she said. "The teacher."
"That's right--the teacher." Riker shook his head.
"Ensign, what are we going to do with you?"
Ro frowned again. Ever since she signed on
board nearly two years earlier, she knew her
stubborn independence had found her in one confrontation
after another with the senior command staff. Ro also knew
that circumstances had dictated that she totally trust
these people with her life, and they had never failed that
trust. Therefore, she always submitted to these meetings
even though it meant doing her level best to keep her
famed temper in check. She kept herself in
profile to Riker, watching the streaked stars drift
by as the proud starship traveled through warp space.
"Sir," she began. "We had a major
circuit failure on that deck, and if I
hadn't moved him out of the way--fast--we could have had
a catastrophe! What was I supposed to do?
Wait and politely ask for him to shuffle away?"
"No, but he's a civilian, not trained
to react the way you and I are, and you have to keep that in
mind, Ensign! There are over a thousand people aboard this
ship; that means over one thousand possible reactions
to any given situation, and as an officer, you must be
ready to act or react accordingly. Charging through him like a
moose certainly doesn't earn you anyone's
respect, and it only heightens tension between the
civilian side and Starfleet."
Ro continued to stand ramrod straight and paused before
speaking again, forcing herself to act like the officer she was.
"I suppose so, sir," she replied. "I
suppose my actions could have been a little less--
emphatic." "You suppose?" Riker asked.
Despite herself, Ro glared at him. "Yes,
sir. My actions could have been a little different and the
end result would have remained the same: the circuit
fire would have been contained."
"I'm glad to hear you say that, Ensign,"
Riker said. He began to move toward her and she
watched the practiced ease of his gait. Everything
he did as first officer was merely rehearsal
for when he would gain a long-deserved command of his own.
She admired the dedication Riker brought to his job,
and in some ways found him a kindred spirit. Their chief
difference was that he had long ago learned to rechannel
his passions so they would not interfere with his job. Ro
sometimes feared this was something beyond her grasp.
"I can't fault your dedication to duty," Riker
said. "But your approach... now that's something we have
to work on."
"Again," she muttered, under her breath. "Again,"
he echoed and then let go one of his patented smiles.
"Ensign, I think I have just the solution so this kind
of a problem will not happen again. We have quite a number of
civilians living aboard this ship, not all of them with
direct ties to Starfleet. Just as you're not sure
how to act around them, they may not know how to act around
you. When we left Starbase 211 two days ago,
fourteen new families transferred aboard.
I'm assigning you to escort one of these new
families around for three or four" days. Get
used to their point of view, their understanding of how we
operate. They can also get your perspective on being
part of Starfleet. I think both sides would
benefit."
Ro's jaw dropped. "Commander, I'm not
a tour guide'! I didn't come aboard the
Enterprise just so families can see me as a role
model. I'm a Starfleet officer, and my place
--"
"Your place, Ensign, is where it best serves
this ship," Riker snapped. "Your schedule will be
adjusted to accommodate your new role as orientation
officer and yes, role model it may well be.
I think, and I'm sure Captain Picard will
agree, that you could use a little more experience with the
civilian element aboard this ship. I'll have your
orders posted to the computer." Riker took a deep
breath and then said, "Dismissed."
Ro spun on her heel and stormed out of the
observation lounge, thoroughly unhappy. She almost
ran headlong into Geordi La Forge on her way
out. The Enterprise's chief engineer stepped aside
to let her pass.
"Had another one of those chats, did you?" he
asked Riker as the door slid shut behind her.
The commander sighed wearily and smiled. "I'm going
to make an officer out of her one of these days or die
trying."
As La Forge slipped into his accustomed seat,
he smiled. "I'm betting on you dying. In
fact, the odds are in my favor."
Riker looked surprised at the comment.
"Odds."?" "Yeah, Lance Woods in research
has been taking bets on you two for months. I
figure I can retire on my winnings."
The first officer laughed and settled into his own
seat, and glanced toward the doors. Expectant,
he wished he could will people in so the meeting could begin.
No matter what their next mission was, it had
to be better than their current mapping assignment.
Within minutes, Dr. Beverly Crusher,
Counselor Deanna Troi, and the Klingon
Security Chief Lieutenant Worf all joined
him and Geordi in the observation lounge. Despite
the casual manner in which they greeted each other
Riker could detect the undercurrent of expectancy
in the room. He pictured the Captain, sitting in
his ready room, on the opposite side of the
bridge, counting off the minutes before he could make a
dramatic entrance.
Instead, to his disappointment, Riker watched the
doors quietly sa, oosh opon and admit the
captain, deep in conversation with Data, the ship's
android second officer.
"Not everything is as it seems, Mister
Data," Jean-Luc Picard commented as they walked
through the doorway. "You certainly have learned that during
your time aboard the Enterprise."
"Of course, Captain," Data responded as
he took his place at the polished table. "I was
merely pointing out that Stelin of Vulcan's writings
address themselves to the clarity of logical deduction."
"I do not question that," the captain said, taking his
place at the table's head. "But we have dealt with
situations where logical deduction has left us with
wrong answers."
"Only because all the information was not available at the
time," Data countered.
"Wouldn't you say that Arthur Corian Doyle
wrote on much the same topic in his own way?"
Picard suggested.
Data paused briefly, his expression
indicating he was considering this new thread of thought.
"Yes, sir. I believe it was Doyle who first
put forth the idea that when all else proves
unlikely, then the only thing left is the
impossible."
Picard shook his head and replied, "Poe."
"Who, sir?" Riker asked, jumping in.
Picard 1oo.ked in the Opposite
direction of Data and seemed just men to realize that his
other senior officers were already assembled, quietly
watching the discussion.
"Edgar Allen Poe, Number One," Picard
said with a small smile. "I recall reading his
detective works during a survey course at the
Academy. Not at all my style."
"Are you well read on detective fiction,
sir?" Data asked. "I had thought you concentrated
only on Dixon Hill."
Picard grinned. "Actually, this course gave
me an opportunity to sample the works of major
writers and characters in that genre. They did not include
Dixon Hill, whom I discovered on my own."
"I didn't realize Poe wrote a
detective character," Riker said.
"Poe is credited with inventing the genre, Commander.
I recommend you review his works."
"I'll do that, sir," Riker replied. "Time
permitting, of course."
"Of course," Picard said. "Now then--shall we
begin?" The captain straightened his red duty
jacket and folded his hands before him. The act was
unconscious--but it was also a cue to Riker,
attuned to his captain's mannerisms from
their years of service together, that the matter about to be
discussed was a serious one indeed. The first officer
adjusted himself in his chair and gave Captain
Picard his full attention.
"We have been given a wonderful opportunity
by Starfleet to pave the way for full diplomatic
relations with a new world," he began. "With the touch of a
button, a view screen behind Picard came
to life and displayed a star chart with one solar system
highlighted in a crimson frame.
"This is Eloh--a world that has just gone through
several decades of civil war and is finally united
under one government," he explained. "Their world lies
in the buffer space between the [Clingon and Romulan
Empires. To date they have not been visited by any
other extraterrestrial race, but their communications
equipment has alerted them to our presence. Now that
they can concentrate on matters beyond survival, it
has become apparent to their leaders that sooner or
later, they will be involved with one empire or the
other."
"And they've chosen sooner," Riker said. "Rather
than get gobbled up on someone else's schedule,
they want to set the agenda."
"Exactly," Picard nodded. "As you will
see from this chart, by having Eloh as a Federation
protectorate, we will be closer than ever to having
a direct influence on Romulan affairs. The
theory is that prolonged contact with our way of life
will only have a positive impact on
Federation/romulan relations."
At the end of the table, Worf leaned forward and
spoke. "We would also be able to legally place an
observation post in their system. An early-warning
device, in case of a planned Romulan
attack."
"We would," Picard agreed. "Our job here is
to make the first contact in person, establish the necessary
ties, and prepare for a full diplomatic mission
to follow. As I understand it, the Federation
Diplomatic Office has already equipped them with
universal translators and our systems now have their
language stored. At our present course, we will
be in their system within hours. I estimate we'll be
spending close to a week here, getting to know as much as
possible about the Elohsians."
"What have we learned about them to date?" Riker
asked.
"The U.s.s. Cochrane did a preliminary
survey about three years ago--strictly
instrumental probes, nothing intrusive.
Technlogically, they're at a level roughly
equivalent to late twentieth-century Earth." The
captain paused. "Here's the tricky part.
Starfleet wants us to keep technological
matters to a minimum at present. The planet
has two options: form an allegiance with us or ask
to be left alone. If they choose the latter, the
less they know about us, the better. If we are
to proceed together, then the formal diplomatic team can
bring them up to date later. I hope I'm clear
on this point."
The small group of officers then proceeded
to discuss matters involving the Romulans, the
Klingons, and galactic politics as it might
pertain to the new planet. Riker delighted in these
sessions since it gave everyone a chance to understand the
mission and display their own concerns. He was able
to absorb their feelings and questions, usually finding one
or two things to consider that he himself had not
previously thought about. It was the captain's
practice to allow such discussion to take its own
course until the topic was exhausted. This time, they
had barely gotten started when an
all-too-familiar klaxon sounded and a
flashing red light went off in the lounge.
Riker was on his feet and heading toward the bridge
before he was even aware of itwjust a step behind
Captain Picard.
"Status," Picard said, taking his seat in the
center of the bridge. But Riker didn't even need
to hear the duty officer's reply to know what the
problem was.
It was staring him in the face, right there on the forward
viewscreen.
"Romulan warbird, sir," Lieutenant
D'Sora announced from behind them, at the tactical
display. "Now in orbit around the planet Eloh."
LIEUTENANT JENNA D'SoaA sidestepped
to allow Worf his customary place behind the
tactical station.
"Tell me about that ship," Riker said as he
rounded the sloping walkway that led to the center command
section. He couldn't sit down--not until he
knew exactly what was happening.
"From this distance scans are imprecise," Commander
Data replied. His golden hands flew briefly
across the Ops panel. Detecting no subspace
communications or weapons activity of any sort."
"Ship is an older style warbird,
B-type, similar to the ones we encountered near
Angel One," Worf declared. "Sensors show the
hull is damaged, most likely in a recent
battle. Repairs have not yet occurred." He
looked up at Riker with a satisfied expression.
"No threat to the Enterprise."
Riker nodded. Now he could sit--and did so, in
his accustomed seat in the center horseshoe,
to Captain Picard's right.
"Mr. Data--how long till we reach
Eloh?" Picard asked.
Data barely paused before answering, "Eleven
hours, thirteen minutes at present speed."
Picard nodded. Tomorrow morning, right on schedule.
The android glanced down at his console again.
"Sir, my instruments show no traces of the kind of
residual energy associated with recent weapons
activity."
"Our last contact with the Elohsians was yesterday
evening, so nothing's happened since then," Picard
said. He frowned and turned to Riker. "Opinion?"
Riker thought a moment. "Mr. Data--check that
ship for radio-band frequency transmissions."
Picard smiled, and nodded. "Of course.
Twentieth-century technology--"
"--Twentieth-century equipment," Riker
finished. "They won't have subspace capability
yet."
"One moment, Commander," Data said, hands flying
over his sensor panel, reconfiguring it for the task
at hand. "No distress signals--however, I am
picking up extensive communications between the warbird
and the Elohsian government."
"Informational exchanges, sir," Worf said from the
tactical station behind them. "Cultural,
historical--"
"I think you can cancel the red alert, Captain,"
Troi said from her seat to Picard's left. "It's
clear the Romulans are the Elohsian's
guests."
Riker got it instantly. "They've invited all
the neighbors."
The implication did not sit well with Picard but
he admitted to himself that it did fit the facts.
Signaling to Worf to cancel the red alert, he
finished the thought his officers had left unspoken.
"Just as we have been summoned to present the
Federation's case, they may well also have invited the
Romulans to make the same... pitch."
"The Elohsians would willingly join with the
Romulan Empire?" Worf was astounded. "That would
be... suicidal."
"We know that," Riker said. "They may not." "With
all due respect, Commander," Data said, turning
in his seat. "I must disagree. Federation records from
the early twenty-third century refer to several
cultures which not only survived but prospered under
Romulan stewardship."
"None of which we've heard from recently,"
Picard said, cutting in. "Still, there must be something
attractive about the Empire to them."
"I'm wondering why they didn't tell us we'd
be undergoing this kind of... competition," Riker said.
Picard nodded, asking himself the same question. To find
the answer to that, though, he'd have to know a lot more about the
Elohsians and their culture. He'd skimmed the
Cochrane's initial reports, giving all but the
last twenty-five years of Eloh's history
short shrift. He wanted to correct that error now
--in his ready room, with a nice hot cup of tea.
He stared at the screen, trying to guess which
prick of light might be Eloh's sun. He
wondered, too, at the choice of an older warbird
to represent the Romulans. An older ship also
meant the planet was desirable to the Empire
but not supremely important. And it also almost
certainly meant he wouldn't be seeing Admiral

Tomulak again--a thought that caused a momentary
smile to crease his face.
The captain stood, straightening his short jacket
and gray shirt. "Number One, continue sensor
scans on the planet and the warbird. Notify me
immediately if the situation changes. Once we
arrive, we'll assume orbit and confirm our
appointment with their premier. Until then, I'll be
in my ready room."
"Aye, sir," Riker said, sliding into the center
seat.
As he left the bridge, Picard overheard with
satisfaction his first officer reminding all command
personnel to give the mission briefings a thorough
going-over.
No matter what they came up against on Eloh,
Picard felt certain his crew would be prepared.
This was ridiculous, Ro Laren thought, gripping the
data padd tightly in one hand as she swiftly
rounded the corner of the deck. The Enterprise was on
an important first-contact mission now--as a
bridge officer, she had access to the mission
briefing--Romulans were involved, and here
she was getting ready to lead a guided tour of the
starship.
Commander Riker was out of his mind. Time enough to work on
improving her relationship with the ship's civilian
population once the crisis was over. She'd gone
to Riker this morning, expecting him to see the logic
in her argument and restore her to active duty.
"You have your orders, Ensign," was all he'd
said. "Dismissed."
Just like that. She still couldn't believe it. And now she
was in some backwater part of the ship she'd never even
seen before. This part of the saucer section was normally
reserved for officers" families and other
civilian personnel. She had no family, of
course, or friends that were civilians.
Which was lucky, she supposed. Because she didn't
like it here. The corridor had an undisciplined
look to it--each doorway was individually
decorated, to indicate the occupant and planet of
origin, which she didn't object to at all in
theory. But in practice, she found most of the
decorations just a little bit gaudy for her taste.
She checked her data padd and realized with a start
that she had arrived at her destination.
She stopped before the door and noted the
calligraphy announcing the family name and the small
holographic projection of Earth. Taking a
deep breath, she tapped the door buzzer.
The doors slid open to reveal a young boyreno,
a teenager, she decided--who looked rather surprised
to be face-to-face with a member of the command crew.
"Uh, hi," he stammered. One hand ran through his
long sandy brown hair and another tried quickly
to tuck his gold-striped shirt back into his dark
brown pants.
Ro glared at him. From the youth's attitude,
he probably thought he was in trouble.
"I am Ensign Ro Laren," she began formally.
"I have been assigned to be your family's
orientation Officer."
"Uh-huh," he said, stammering again. "I'm
James Kelly. My family's not here right now.
Sorry. But you can come in if you want."
Ro rolled her eyes. She had no desire
to see this boy's home. She was supposed to show him
the Enterprise. This job was clearly going to be a
complete waste of her time. Nonetheless...
Commander Riker had given her a
responsibility, and Bajorans always regarded
responsibilities gravely.
histo will see your quarters," Ro said, taking a
step forward.
James stepped back, allowing Ro to enter. She
looked around, trying to get a sense of the family.
It was hard. The main room was largely filled with
boxes marked Personal Belongings that had not yet
been unpacked.
"My mom's working a shift in the cargo bay and
Dad's teaching a fifth-grade group," James
said.
"I see," Ro nodded.
There was an awkward silence. Ro had no idea
what she should say next. Neither, clearly, did
James. He alternated between staring at her and then
looking away abruptly.
"You have a lovely home," Ro offered.
"Thank you, Ensign Laren," James said, his
voice cracking.
"Ro. It is Ensign Ro," she informed him
coldly. She then realized that the civilian crew
would not need to be versed in the ways of Bajoran
address.
"Sorry," came the reply. "Yes, Ensign
Ro."
Ro looked again at her padd. "My time
is committed to your family for the remainder of beta
shift," she said. "I could begin with your ship
orientation, if you wish."
"You would orient me?" James gulped. A
huge grin crossed his face. "Wow... that would be
great."
Ro nodded, unsure of why James was so
excited. Perhaps his enthusiasm would help the tour go
faster, she told herself.
"We will begin in engineering," she said
matter-of-factly. "This is the heart of the starship,
powered by a matter-antimatter reactor which..."
James fell into step beside her, positively
radiant.
Picard stepped up on the transporter platform
next to Commander Data and Counselor Troi, who
were:: already in position.
"Any parting words of wisdom, Number One?" the
captain asked.
Riker, standing at the transporter console, shook
his head.
"Same ones as before, sir. I wish you'd let
me go in your place. Or at least take
Lieutenant Worf. I don't like having you down
there without security m andmiddot; especially
with the Romulans on the planet."
Picard smiled. They'd been over this ground
already. "My orders have me representing the Federation,
and I must be there for that first meeting."
"Your orders, sir, did not take into account that
Romulans would be present."
"No, they did not," Picard said evenly.
"However, the Romulans would be making a very poor
case for themselves were they to open fire the minute I
materialize on Eloh. No, I think they will be
on good behavior."
"Then all I can do is wish you good luck,
sir," Riker responded. "Energize."
Picard, Data, and Troi materialized in the
anteroom of the parliamentary chambers. As soon as
Picard could adjust his vision, a second or two
after the transporter began rematerializing his
atoms on Eloh, he spotted a small
delegation. One thing was immediately clear about the
Elohsians.
They were tall. Very, very tall.
Humanoid in appearance, of the delegation of a
half-dozen dignitaries before them, none was shorter
than two meters. And at that moment, none of them was
smiling. It made for a very foreboding first
impression, and Picard wondered briefly what
lies the Romulans had already told them about the
Federation.
He stepped forward. "I am Captain
Jean-Luc Pi-card of the United Federation of
Planets. This is Commander Data and Counselor
Troi."
The Elohsian in the center of the group--a man
somewhat stouter and older-looking than the others
--took a step forward and gestured with his left fist
over his heart.
"Welcome to Eloh," he said. "I am
Daithin, premier of the United Parliament."
Daithin's clothing was dark purple with gold and
silver ornamentation and silver piping in intricate
designs along the sleeves and pants. The shoes
were half-boots, brightly polished and tipped in a
copper-colored metal. The premier wore nothing
resembling a weapon or communications device
except the Federation-sent universal translator,
Picard noted, but the man had eyes that showed
experience and a face that had weathered many a battle.
Small, violent red scars remained around his
broad forehead, set off against the dark skin. While
the clothing was all dark, none of the outfits
worn by the six Elohsians matched, so Picard
ruled out any military meaning to the clothing.
Daithin took a step back and opened both arms,
the gesture sweeping enough to take in all five people in his
delegation. "These are my advisors, and you will meet
them all in due time." Daithin smiled. "But first,
allow me to offer you some refreshments."
Picard and his officers followed Daithin into a
small anteroom off the main chamber. He studied
his host as food and beverages were served, careful
to follow Daithin's lead. And as he studied the
premier, Picard watched Daithin and the other
Elohsians studying himself and his crew. Measuring
each other up.
No sense in small talk, Picard thought. He
decided to ask the question that was on his mind.
"Premier," he said. "Can you tell me what a
Romulan warbird is doing in orbit around your
world?"
Daithin looked at Picard for a moment and then
smiled slightly, showing white and straight teeth.
"Of course, Captain Picard, of course. We
naturally invited the Romulans to meet with us as
well. After all, the parliament must study both our
neighboring Empires before choosing which one
to ally ourselves with."
"Of course," Picard agreed. "I was just
surprised since we were not informed of this in advance."
"Nor did we inform the Romulans about you."
Daithin smiled. "In fact, I just finished
discussing the matter with their leader. Come, let me
make the necessary introductions so we may confirm an
agenda and a schedule." Daithin spun on his heel
and turned away from the Federation group. Picard
appreciated brevity as much as the next man, but
he suddenly got the feeling he had just witnessed
Daithin's normal modus operandi. Explanations
around here, it seemed, would not be easy to come by.
Exchanging glances with his officers, Picard led the
small group behind Daithin's party. The anteroom
was not exactly small, and it led into a corridor which
ended with a set of double doors, also ornately carved
in steel.
As the doors opened, Picard studied the
construction of the parliamentary chamber. The room was
made of a smooth, rounded material. No wood was
in evidence nor was the structure metallic.
Instead, it seemed made of other materials, all
seamlessly fitted together and in complementary colors.
Whereas their clothing was dark with bright
highlights, the room was neutral with bright
turquoise trim. The ceiling seemed to be about
twenty feet high with skylights every few feet,
allowing bright filtered light to fill the chamber.
Stained glass windows stood on either side of the
large dais that was at the front of the room. On
both sides of the dais were row after row of small
tables and chairs. At a quick glance, Picard
estimated that the ruling parliament had eight seats on
the dais, and another forty or fifty seats finished
the room. Small lamps glowed needlessly,
illuminating empty desks and giving off distracting
shadows below Picard's field of vision.
Those interested him far less, though, than the
half-dozen Romulans near one of the windows. They
appeared to be deep in conversation, oblivious to the
arrival of the Federation party.
"My Romulan friends, I want you to meet your
Federation counterparts," Daithin began as he worked his
way toward the dais. At his words, the Romulans
all turned toward the doors and watched the Federation
officers approach.
Daithin used simple hand gestures to introduce
each officer from the warbird. The clear leader of the
group was a tall, older officer named
Plactus. Each Romulan in turn merely stared
at the Enterprise officers. Only Plactus,
introduced as a subcommander, nodded something
resembling a welcome.
"It is an honor to meet you, Captain
Picard," Plactus said.
"Oh?" Picard tried to read the subcommander's
expression, but it was impassive and his eyes were
shadowed.
"You and your ship are, of course, well known
andmiddot; among my people."
Picard replied tightly, "I'm sorry we
cannot say the same for you and your crew."
"These men are under my command, yes, but I am not the
leading representative from my government."
"I see, and then your commander is... ?" Picard
found this interesting. If they had a commander, where was he
and why would he not be with the rest of the delegation?
"Occupied."
Picard started to prompt Plactus for additional
information, but then noted out of the corner of his eye that
Daithin was watching the exchange with deep interest.
It wouldn't do to seem too preoccupied with the
Romulans. He was here to impress the
Elohsians with what the Federation had to offer
them, not with their feud.
He was trying to find a safe topic of conversation
with Daithin when he heard voices approaching from the
corridor. As the heavy wooden door swung
back, he could hear a woman's voice saying,
"dis. andmiddot; there is much more to our technology, and
we can happily show you during your tour tomorrow."
Suddenly something clicked in Picard's
subconscious. He knew that voice, but from where His
brain began rifling its private files, trying
to match the voice to a name. He began to stand a little
taller, suddenly on alert.
The two newcomers stepped into the room. A man
and a woman. An Elohsian male, and a
Romulan female.
"Ah," the man said, "I believe the others have
arrived."
"Captain Picard," Daithin said. "This is my
chief of staff, Larkin, who was responsible for
making the arrangements to bring you here. Your--liason,
I believe the word is--am I correct?"
Picard only glanced at the premier in
response, and if the world leader said anything else,
he missed it. At that moment he was not at all
concerned with Larkin. All his attention was
focused on the woman walking into the room.
All he could see was the blond hair.
A split second later he tore his attention
away from her. Daithin, Picard finally forced himself
to note, was continuing to watch the exchange with great
interest. He tried to remind himself that every word, action,
and expression would carry great weight with the
Elohsians dispresent. The premier walked toward
the two commanders, gesturing in an attempt to make
introductions. "You said you were unfamiliar with this
crew, Captain Picard, so let me..."
"Why, Captain Picard, so good to see you again,"
Sela said. Her manner was imperious as always. Her
demeanor was cool and inflexible--although she did
manage a smile in the direction of Premier
Daithin.
"There is no need for introductions here,
Premier," she continued. "Captain Picard and I
know each other very well." Her tone belied the
apparent warmth of her words.
"Commander Sela," Picard said steadily. He
nodded his head toward her, still staring. As always, her
unmistakable resemblance to the Enterprise's
original security chief, Tasha Yar, gave him
pause. Sela claimed to be Yar's
daughter--a Yar from an alternate time line, whom
fate had delivered into the Romulans' hands. But
whereas Yar had a vulnerable quality to her
features, there was nothing weak about Sela. The hard,
set mouth and fierce blue eyes blazed as she
took Picard's measure. She was dressed in
standard Romulan command garb, complete with bulky
shoulders, and adorned with weaponry.
Tasha Yar's daughter? Picard still found that
difficult to believe--even more so after their initial
encounter, when Sela told him that she herself was
responsible for ending her mother's life.
"My father had offered her everything," she had told
him aboard the Enterprise more than a year earlier.
"He had given her a home, a daughter. How
did she repay him? With betrayal. They executed
her. Everything in me that was human... died with my mother
that day. All that is left... is Romulan.
Never doubt that."
Her actions in their two previous encounters had more
than convinced Picard of that, but he continued to wonder
if her story were true or the brainwashing of a
fanatical empire willing to do anything--even
destroy someone's life--to further its goals.
Daithin raised a hand. "Captain
Picard, Commander Sela--over the next few days,
our parliamentary council will speak with you together and
separately. We want you to know more about us, and in
exchange I hope that I or my people will have the
opportunity to see what your ships are like, perhaps
speak with your crew?"
Sela jumped in first. "Of course, Premier.
However, there will be some areas that will remain
off-limits."
"We pride ourselves on a content crew, and
speaking with them should show you that," Picard began. "Our
ship will be more than happy to host a visiting
delegation. Sad to say, like our Romulan
counterparts, we, too, have certain areas that we need
to steer clear of." His
"Perfectly, perfectly understandable," Daithin
agreed. With that said, he turned back to his small
cadre of Elohsians and had a few quiet words.
"One final fact you all need to know," Daithin
began, "While we were a people divided by war for so
long, we remained united under a shared belief
system. Nelvana Del, our holiest of
holidays, begins in seven days" time, and our
parliament must conclude its business of the season for
everyone to return to their families. We can,
therefore, only afford you four days. Our parliamentary
members will poll their constituents and then vote on the
fifth. Does that pose a problem for either of you?"
He eagerly watched the reactions.
"No problem for the Federation, Premier," Picard
said without hesitation.
"Of course, not, Premier," Sela snapped.
Daithin smiled again.
"Very well, then," the Premier said. "I look
forward to seeing you both shortly."
Picard glared at Sela, and slapped the
communicator insignia on his chest.
"Picard to Enterprise. Three to beam up."
She glared right back at him. The competition had
begun.
"... The matter replicators take the
frozen, sterilized raw stock and rebuild a
pattern through a phase transition chamber and form
whatever the menu called for through the replicator
distribution net." Ro finished gesturing toward the
mess room on deck 32. She had given
James Kelly the most detailed tour of a starship
she could imagine giving. The ensign had strained herself
to give the teen every bit of information he could possibly
ask for. Short of giving away Starfleet
security codes, Ro wasn't sure if there was
another shred of information to provide.
To her astonishment, James Kelly did not
seem bored by even the most arcane piece of
information. Instead, he hung on to her every word, staring
keenly at circuit boards, isolinear chip
arrangements, and transport board configurations.
The botanical gardens were as interesting to him as the
supply lockers. Clearly, something was wrong with the
boy. "Who determines the menu?" James asked.
She sighed and continued walking through the room,
avoiding the two tables filled with engineers just
completing their dinner. She had done a lot of sighing
these last few hours. "The crew can program the
system for any meal they want. Our data banks
are filled with thousands of menus from across the Federation."
"Do people cook here? My dad cooks," James
said, stopping to gape at the remains of some alien
bird bones left over from a meal at one table.
Ro nodded. "Some of the crew use cooking as a
hobby. Commander Riker, for example."
Kelly whistled. "So, you spend a lot of time with
Commander Riker?"
"When I am not attending to my duties with
civilian crew, I am usually at the
conn station aboard the bridge. Often I have served
with Commander Riker."
"On away missions, too?"
"We have served quite well together," Ro answered.
She disliked having to think about her complex relationship
with Riker and decided the boy's questions were too
personal. After all, Kelly had been on the ship
for a handful of days and missed the time the entire crew
was given a neurologic shock that left people playing
out different roles from normal--including that of Ro
and Riker as lovers. Ro barely liked to discuss
her life with Picard or Guinan, and she certainly
wasn't about to let this youth pry information from her. She
abruptly turned away from him.
"I think we had best return you to your quarters.
It's after sixteen hundred hours and your parents must
be waiting for you. There may be just enough time to meet them
before I have to return to duty."
James rushed to keep up with her pace. It was
obvious to her that his endless enthusiasm meant he had
energy to burn, and she had failed at extinguishing his
desires. She remained unsure of what fueled his
interests and enthusiasm.
"Aren't we going to visit the bridge?" he
asked.
"No," she said. "It is a place of business,
and distractions take away from maximum
efficiency."
They had arrived at a turbolift. She stood
aside to let James enter before her.
"Oh, no," he said, bowing. "Ladies first."
Ro eyed him strangely as she stepped inside.
"The bridge can't always be busy," James said.
"Maybe there's another time we could get together and you
could show it to me."
Suddenly Ro had had enough. Didn't this child know
anything?
"The bridge is not, I repeat not, a tourist
attraction!" Ro snapped. "It is a place where
trained Starfleet officers do their jobs--
important jobs, where they accomplish things other
than uselessly wandering the ship! Halt!" she barked
out. The turbolift came to a stop.
"I am getting out here," she said brusquely
to James. "The lift will take you back to your
quarters. Please make my apologies to your
parents. Good afternoon."
Her last glimpse of Kelly was of the youth
looking after her forlornly as the turbolift doors
shut behind her.
This had not gone at all well, she realized.
Sela was first off the transporter platform when the
materialization was complete. Plactus was on her
heels and the two strode without speaking through the hard,
metal corridors until they found a lift, which
swiftly delivered them to the bridge.
"Status," she snapped before the doors were fully
open.
The duty officer stood tall, looked straight
ahead and gave a terse report. "Enterprise is
maintaining THF ROMULAN STRATAGEM
geesynchronous orbit. Their weapons remain
deactivated, although they have been performing sensor
sweeps of the planet."
"Transporter activity?" Plactus asked
taking his accustomed station to the left of the lift
doors.
"Landing party beam-down and beam-up,
Sub-commander."
"You are relieved. 1 will complete the watch,"
Sela said as she moved toward the command chair.
Settling herself in, she put her chin on her right hand
and stared at the viewscreen. The main viewer showed the
Enterprise, large, gleaming, and oh so close.
She pictured herself gripping it in her left
hand, crushing the hull like tissue paper, and watching
the one thousand crew members burn upon entry
into Eloh's atmosphere.
"So, Picard and I get to match wits again,"
she said quietly. Her voice cut through the quiet,
tense atmosphere on the bridge like a warning
klaxon. Of course, she had expected
Enterprise. Intelligence reports had
predicted the Federation would send their flagship and the
warbird's sensors had detected the vessel hours
earlier. From that moment onward, she'd had her
officers monitoring Enterprise's every move. She
had no doubt that word of her unusual orders had
quickly spread through the ship and those officers whose.
careers were now inextricably intertwined with hers had
certainly discovered by now that Sela had an old
score to settle with this particular vessel.
More than just an old score, she reminded herself,
glancing around the bridge at her crew. How far
she had fallen, and how fast. From her place at the
Praetor's right hand, at the center of the Empire's
decision-making nexus, to command of a single run-down
ship on the far fringes of Romulan territory.
And Picard, more than any other, was to blame.
And here was a chance to even that score--just a
little.
Sela glanced around the bridge at her crew,
locking eyes with each of her officers in turn as she
spoke.
"The stakes in this mission are nothing less than the
world beneath us. We must do the praetor proud. A job
done well will see our names, and the name of this ship,
sung in the halls of the senate--and all our careers
made."
"Plactus," she snapped.
"Commander." The older officer stepped forward to stand
at her side.
"Let me see that agenda Daithin gave us,"
she said.
"I want to make sure we are prepared for
everything." Plactus nodded and handed her the data
tablet. As she studied it, Sela allowed herself
to visualize the instant that she knew was to come--the
instant when she would snatch this world away from Picard.
She lived for that moment.
MORNING ON ELOH was sunny and warm. The
breeze felt good on Geordi La Forge's
skin. This would be the perfect planet for shore
leave, he decided. If only we had more than a
week.
Geordi was riding in the back seat of an
Elohsian "sojourner"--a ground transport
vehicle similar to Federation land skimmers. This one
was battery-powered, wheel-driven and, his VISOR
told him, ran efficiently and emitted few
harmful gases.
In the seat beside him, he noted that Deanna Troi
was also enjoying the ride and the sights of this small
continent. The two of them had beamed down at the
crack of dawn and, after getting an overview of their
planned schedule, had been flown from the main continent
of Regor to Carinth Dar. There, they'd been met
by their appointed guide, Ilena.
Ilena, like all the Elohsians, towered a good
foot above Geordi and Troi. She wore a dark
one-piece jumpsuit, with brilliant blue trim
around her neck. Her translator was affixed there like
a brooch. Her size had made her a little
intimidating at first, but during the ride they'd
gotten to know each other better. Geordi was
surprised at her age--on Earth, she would have just
been graduating Starfleet Academy--but she was a
friendly, expansive young girl, willing to answer just
about any question. An hour into the drive, they had seen
quite a bit of the shoreline and the deep,
green-blue sea beyond.
Ilena craned her neck around and looked over at
Geordi. "We're about five minutes away from the
computer facility. The core is an amazing
sight," she said proudly.
Geordi leaned forward. He thought maybe he'd
misheard her, and asked, "Your entire world works off
one computer system?"
Now it was Ilena's turn for a quick, surprised
look at La Forge. "Why--yes," she said.
"Ever since the war ended, we have all been connected
to the main computer system--to promote unity. We
use fiber-optic cables under the ocean and
microwave relays to connect everyone. There's even
talk of a satellite system for more comprehensive
coverage."
"That's very impressive," Troi said.
Politically, maybe, Geordi thought. But from
an engineering perspective, putting all your eggs in
one basket was just inviting disaster.
"I assume you have back-ups," he prompted.
"Yes, on Dos Dar," she said. "Here on
Carinth we have the main computer and most important
school; on Regor we have worldwide commerce
markets and the parliament; on Delpine Dar
we have farming and food manufacturing; Dos Dar
has the desalinization plant, which is vital for our
growing population; and on Hyanth we have our major
manufacturing and sciences. It all makes a good
kind of sense, don't you think?"
"Isn't there any concern about old wounds reopening
and the war starting up again?" Geordi asked.
Ilena waved a hand in the air. "Impossible.
We have all lost so much that even the Populists, those
who started the fight in the first place, have recognized
the time has come to put aside our weapons. I
truly conbblieve that this world now speaks with one
voice."
Geordi was left to ponder such convictions as
Ilena concentrated on her driving. Within a few
minutes, the sojourner rounded a corner and they came
to a small, unimpressive building with red flashing
lights on both sides of the door. She smoothly
placed the sojourner near three other vehicles,
all the same general shape but in different colors.
Gesturing for them to follow, she led the way toward the
dark red doors. As they approached, Geordi
watched as she fished some kind of card from her wide
belt and held it before a scanner. The amber lens
shut off and a door unclicked. Ilena
tugged for a moment and the steel door opened outward,
allowing the trio entry.
The counselor hurried her pace to keep up with the
larger woman. Geordi rechecked the equipment in
his pockets and then also had to hurry to keep up.
While he prided himself on keeping in shape, he
recognized that he was nowhere near as prepared for
away team missions as Troi. She made certain
she had a daily workout, while he settled for
once or twice a week. His excuse was that his
missions usually involved rewiring or repairing
something, not running after Picard or Riker, or
dodging someone's weapons fire.
Ilena led the officers to the end of a corridor.
An elevator was waiting for them and it, too, moved
rapidly. Geordi estimated they descended at
least sixty-five feet before stopping. The ride was

smoother than he'd expected, too; probably
powered by magnetic forces rather than cables and
pulleys.
"Welcome to Operations Central," Ilena said,
stepping from the elevator as the doors opened.
The brightness of the room took him by surprise. The
room was large--about the size of the Enterprise's
shuttlebay--and had absolutely blank
walls, lit from behind with bright yellow light. In the
center of the room were seven people, each seated at a
workstation and wearing a helmet-like apparatus that had
wires leading directly to the terminals in front of
them. The workstations were all sharply angled so the
operators sat with their backs to the floor and their
eyes aimed directly at the ceiling. Above them the
ceiling was affixed with screens that flew past quicker
than the eye--at least, Geordi's eyemcd keep
track of.
"This system is the culmination of research advances
made from the five continents, and represents the single
fastest computer ever."
Geordi stepped beside one of the workstations. The
woman seated by him barely noticed his presence as
her fingers flew across wide vertical keyboards.
He had to crouch to get a good look at the trio of
keyboards and the small screens set in the center.
The operator seemed to be managing memory
storage, which was allocated by continent, if La Forge
was reading the data right.
"We operate five shifts, all day and all
night," Ilena continued. "The operators are
constantly adjusting resource allocations."
"This kind of resource allocation could be
done quicker by some of our artificial intelligence
systems," Geordi said without looking up. "We
could send in engineers and technicians to help
modernize some of your systems."
"Our people are dedicated to helping themselves,"
Ilena said, a small frown crossing her dark
features. "I don't know if they would like that."
"If Eloh joins the Federation," Troi said,
walking close to her host, "it is up to Eloh
to decided how or if we may help. The Federation
has always believed that each world is unique enough
to decide for itself." Ilena smiled, first at
Geordi and then at Troi. "Now that's what I
meant to say," Geordi put in. "It sounds
perfect," Ilena responded. "I hope your
captain explains your policy in just the same way
to Premier Daithin."
"You can count on it," Troi said.
Geordi leaned closer to the operator, trying
to read one screen. The woman finally turned toward
him and brusquely asked, "Would you like to try it?"
"Oh no," he replied, moving back a bit.
"I may "know the computers back on the
Enterprise, but I 'wdn't dare try and touch your
systems on-line. 'Maybe another time."
"Then back off and let me concentrate! I
nearly lost a power grid on Dos Dar." The
woman turned back to her work and ignored Geordi
completely.
Geordi stood up and moved back toward his
host, a little taken aback by the vehemence of her
response.
"Not your fault," Ilena said quietly, laying
a hand on his shoulder. "We ask a lot of these people;
most can only perform this for five or ten years, we
estimate, before they need to retire to easier
tasks." "Ahmyou're here!"
Geordi turned and saw a man in deep
crimson and silver emerging from a door set in the
far wall of the room. He had two large circuit

boards in his hand and a band with a light around his head.
At first glance, Geordi took him to be a
technician, but then he noticed the translator
casually affixed to a broad pocket and how everyone
reacted to his presence.
"You must be from the Federation. Ilena, would you
introduce me?" the older Elohsian asked. He
was the shortest Elohsian Oeordi had yet seen,
probably Commander Riker's height, and not as
broadly built as most other
Elohsians.
"This is Lieutenant Commander Geordi La
Forge and Counselor Deanna Troi of the Starship
Enterprise, from the United Federation of Planets.
And this is Conductor General Luth, the man
currently respono sible for keeping our
technology on the cutting edge."
Geordi glanced down at the circuit boards in
Luth's hands, and his VISOR ran a complete
scan, trying to help him figure out just what the
boards might be for. "What's that on your face7"
Luth asked gruffly.
"It's an electronic device that enables me
to compensate for my blindness," Geordi explained.
"I can 'see" on all waves of the
electromagnetic spectrum. It comes in real
handy for troubleshooting problems aboard the ship. What
are those for?"
Luth gestured with both hands and grimaced a bit.
"These are burned-out units from a relay station on
an island about four hundred squares from here. I've
been studying them to see what may have caused the
damage. What do you see?"
"Actually, sir," Geordi began, "I
don't want to presume to guess about your
technology. I do see, though, a great deal of
seawater corrosion around your contacts. What do you
use for insulation7"
Luth continued to juggle the two boards, weighing
them gravely in each hand, studying them as Geordi
spoke. After a few moments he said, "A storm
knocked off the metal plating and the water did get
in and short things out. But it took only a brief
contact to disrupt the system. I'm trying to find a
way to prevent that. Can you help?"
"Hmm..." Geordi looked a little closer at
each of the boards. The problem was in the materials the
Elohsians were using for insulation. They weren't stable
enough, chemically, for the varying environments they had
to survive.
"I think I see the problem," he began.
Troi put a hand gently on his arm.
Of course, he realized, recalling Picard's
stern warning about rendering technological assistance
during the initial mission briefing.
"I'm very sorry--but I can't help,
Conductor," he said, shaking his head. "We have
codes of conduct that prevent us from altering a
planer's natural state of affairs. As the
Counselor and I were just explaining
to Ilenam"
Luth glared. "Doesn't your being here alter our
state of affairs?"
"Of course it does, sir. But you invited us
here. And until we settle the issue of
alignment, I am bound not to interfere."
"conInterfere?" the older man thundered. ""All
I'm asking is for some simple technical help,
not plans to build a bomb."
Geordi noticed that people were looking away from their
busy workstations. This was not good. "If Eloh
agrees to align with the Federation, then we'll give you
all the help you can handle. But right now, I'm really
sorry, I can't do a thing."
"It's time for us to move on to our next stop,"
Ilena said. She nodded to Luth and began backing
towards the exit. "Conductor, thank you for--"
Luth made a rude noise, turned away from
them, and stormed back to his office. One of the
floor operators gave them all a nasty look
before turning his attention back to the panels before him.
"Let me guess, I said the wrong thing,"
Geordi said once they were back in the elevator.
"Still, the conductor was unspeakably rude,"
Ilena said. "I suppose because his feelings
were hurt he feels such behavior was warranted. Not
unusual for a Populist."
Whoa--now where did that come from? Geordi
exchanged a look with Troi, who simply rolled
her eyes. So much for Ilena's protestations of
Unity, he decided. Despite her declaration that
the Populists and the Dar were all great friends, and
allies in Parliament, it was clear that there was still a
lot of bad blood--and old prejudices--
floating around.
The three of them continued on in silence back to the
sojourner.
"Would you like to see my favorite view of the
coastline?" Ilena asked suddenly. Geordi and
Troi exchanged a glance and nodded; it wasn't on
the official tour, but they could use a break from that right
now. Ilena led them down a rocky path past the
computer complex and to the ocean. Within minutes, all
three were stretching their legs while gazing at a
breathtaking view. The sea gently washed up against
rock and crags, glistening in the sun. Small
birds flew overhead, emitting graceful calls.
As Geordi watched, a flock of them gathered
together, and then suddenly shot over their heads, moving
inland.
"They're called keeners. It's harvest time for
them now," Ilena said, following his gaze. "They're
heading east, maybe fifty or so to a flock.
They'll stop every few squares to scavenge for food.
They have small sacks below their beaks to store it in
until they reach their winter homes. They gather here
every year--same place, same time." Ilena reached
down and took off one shoe, then put her foot in the
water.
"When I was growing up and the war was still going on, I
could only come out here after the all clear sounded. The
butchers from Hyanth would hit and run, and hit and
runrowe would never know when they'd show up next. We
had to go to school in underground shelters. One year I
missed the keeners entirely 2"
"How could you concentrate on studies with a war going
on around you?" Troi asked.
"The war had been going on between the Dars and the
Populists for thirty years by the time I was born.
My father spent his whole life in the navy. He still
can't get used to peace."
"Well, for all your sakes, I hope it
lasts," Geordi said.
"It will," Ilena said, drawing her knees up
to her chest and hugging herself. "It has to."
"My esteemed colleague from Dos Dar seems
to be thinking more with his rear than with his brain,
Premier," shouted a stout Elohsian.
"I object to such Populist slander,
Premier!" the wounded representative cried.
"No slander was intended," the woman began. "If
anything, I was noting the improvement."
In the visitors' gallery, directly to the
left of the dais, Captain Picard and Data sat
quietly watching Eloh's "Unified"
Parliament. For the last forty-five minutes, the
proceedings had consisted of representatives from each
continent boasting about something for the official record.
This record was immediately available to all interested
parties on the planetary data network, and was no
doubt influential when parliamentary elections were
held, Picard surmised.
The current debate revolved around a claim
involving grain production on Regor. Matters
escalated until the name-calling began, the likes
of which the Captain had not seen since his days as a
schoolboy in France.
"For the record, Premier," the Regorian
bellowed, "it should be noted that our people increased
productivity for the forty-second straight
period. This event remains unequaled in our
history."
"What matters how many of a thing are made, if that
thing is ultimately worthless?" countered his
opponent. "Let the record reflect that consumer
satisfaction remains highest with the proud product
from Dos Dar."
Picard turned his neck to take in the entire
room and gauge the reactions of the others. Members
from the respective continents made gestures,
silently cheering on their leaders. People from the other
three continents watched the back-and-forth boasting with
varying degrees of disdain and amusement.
Data turned towards his Captain and spoke.
"Sir, I find it interesting that this political
structure, with its petty bickering and politics,
can also be currently found on no fewer than
fourteen Federation worlds."
"Interesting, Data." Picard shook his head.
"It only confirms my belief that human nature
is much the same, no matter how far out in the
galaxy one travels. For people to get along, some
system must be present that allows them to vent steam.
This session appears entirely designed for that
function and little else."
"A fascinating observation, Captain," the
android said.
Picard nodded to himself. "Data, for this planet
to function as a part of the Federation, they will need to be
schooled in so many new things starting with improved
technology and, I suppose, including Robert's
Rules of Order."
"Actually, Captain, Robert's Rules of
Order has never been an accepted form of governance
during the Federation's existence."
Picard stifled a smile and replied, "It was a
small joke, Data."
The second officer frowned a moment in
concentration, filed away the reference, and returned his
attention to the proceedings.
Picard watched the premier as the boasting wound
down. Daithin made few notes on his terminal,
he saw, but did make frequent side comments
to Larkin. Neither seemed to take the boasting
seriously, and they allowed matters to proceed at a
more leisurely pace than Picard would have
preferred.
"If the Dar and Populist hot-air masses
are done, Premier, I wish to petition this body
to vote in favor of new business," said one
member from the extreme back of the room. His voice
was barely loud enough to be heard over the debate.
Daithin's eyes smiled with recognition. "The
chair recognizes Wain from Hyanth."
"I will second the suggestion," came a
woman's voice from Waln's right.
"Thank you, Waln," Daithin said. "We needed
to move on a long time back. Who now has new
business for the parliament?"
Wain stood up immediately and tugged at his belt.
He waited patiently for voices to die down and
then spoke, "Premier, the people on Hyanth have
completed their survey of the damage done during the
recent uprisings. It will require an extra four
months, perhaps even as long as a year for us to return
to normal production."
Picard frowned. This was the first he'd heard of
any such disturbances.
"Furthermore," Waln continued, "the recent
earthquake, in addition to causing the deaths of dozens
of workers, has severely compromised the integrity of
our Lorcan mining facility. It may need to be
shut down entirely."
For the first time that day, Picard saw Daithin
frown.
"That will mean a planetwide shortage of
current-bearing cable," the premier said. "Are you
sure the mine is unuseable?"
"I am sure of nothing," Wain said. "Save that
I will see no more of my people die just to provide the world
with metal for weapons. Instead..."
"Now see here, good sir," began a heavyset
woman from three tables over. "Are you implying that the
soldiers on Delpine Dar place a higher
value on weapons for the good of the world over that of life
xf2."
Wain turned toward his attacker and pointed a
finger directly at her. "I said no such thing,
madam. I did say, though, that I need more time for
my people. Surely your army is adequately
prepared for any civil trouble." The older man's
voice dripped with sarcasm. "We no longer have
any wars to prepare for--and we are currently being
protected by two starships the likes of which we have
only dreamt about with weaponry far in advance of
ours."
Picard had leaned forward during the exchange, and
Data had watched his captain watch the people.
Inquisitively, Data asked, "Captain, is
this how parliaments worked on Earth?"
"Mr. Data, I have the feeling governments have
worked like this since people created such structures."
"We recognize the worth of your troubles,
Governor--but you must also recognize the need of our
army to maintain its fighting strength." The woman's
allies nodded among themselves.
"All I recognize," Wain said, "is that the
high minded and long-winded Dars may not be willing
to submit to the changes to come! You speak only of
"your" army--and not the United Forces of Eloh!"
"Because they do not yet exist, Wain!" the woman
shot back. "Today it is the Dar army that must
protect my people--an army, I might add, that is
the envy of the five continents."
"The two continents, you mean," called a new
voice from behind Wain. "The Dars are still no match
for the Populist retirees from Carinth!"
"I've never heard such rubbish in my life," the
large woman called.
"You certainly speak a lot of rubbish yourself,
madame," taunted another member of the parliament.
The woman's face turned red, and she pushed
back her chair. "Maybe, but let's see your
army save you from me!"
Picard's mouth dropped open in
astonishment, as the woman continued moving forward with
scared politicians moving aside.
This was Unity?
The captain quickly glanced back to the dais where
Daithin had finally stood up. Larkin was also on his
feet, tapping commands on a console. Summoning
help, Picard hoped.
"Enough!" Daithin's booming voice echoed over
the chamber, silencing the throng that was now less than a
foot apart. Frozen in motion, they seemed
in-equipped for any sort of a battle within the
tightly laid-out structure of the chamber. Some
members were now prying their feet loose from around
chair legs while others rearranged their belts or
slicked back their hair.
"The only reason the last unpleasantness lasted
for half a century was because both armies were
superior.
Now Populist and Dar stand together as Eloh's
defenders." Daithin took a deep breath and
collected himself. "Now take your seats--all of
you. You act like a bunch of overage school children
bickering in the yard." With that, he nodded toward
Larkin, who punched in two commands on the computer.
Picard surmised the Elohsian
equivalent of an all clear had just sounded throughout the
building.
Everyone returned to their original positions, and
Waln took up where he had left off.
"Premier, to return to my original request for more
time in our production schedule--"
"I hear your plea, Waln, I hear it,"
Daithin said. "I am ordering the matter to be
placed at the top of tomorrow's committee agenda. Now
then--is there any other new business?"
The next petitioner rose and begin to speak, and
Picard turned away from the drama below.
"Mr. Data," he said, frowning slightly.
"This world is not fully healed."
"Indeed not, Captain. Such fractiousness among
the elected representatives leads one to consider
what the general populace is like."
"Indeed," Picard replied. "It's a very
interesting period for this world, Mr. Data. Did you
notice how quickly the conversation turned from mining
to weapons and war readiness? The war may be over but
battles are still being waged--albeit through words."
Data nodded. "I am puzzled though, sir." "Go
ahead," the captain prompted.
"How can a people profess unity when it is
abundantly clear that such is not the case?"
Picard smiled. "Optimism, Mr. Data.
Despite their harsh words, I think they all want
to rise above the kind of infighting we saw earlier.
Daithin's leadership has them looking to the
future."
The question rolling around in his mind was how the Federation
could help them realize their dream of Unity.
"If there is no more business today, I declare the
session ended." With those words, Daithin slammed a
hand on the table and rose. Everyone stood immediately after
him and began to file out of the chamber. Picard and
Data remained for a moment, taking in whispered comments
and the local flavor.
An Elohsian interrupted their observations and
told them he was prepared to bring them to the next stop
on their tour. They followed him out of Parliament and

into the center of town. The buildings they saw were set
off in a uniform grid of streets and avenues, and
all seemed to have been built from a handful of
architectural designs. Without the signs, though,
it might have been easy to mistake one street for
another. The buildings were all low, no more than
five stories tall at most, excepting
Parliament, which had obviously been
designed to be the city's focal point.
The Elohsians they passed all stopped to take
a look at the new visitors, but people did not gawk
or point or seem terribly bothered by their
appearance. Instead, many smiled or offered the
Elohsian salute, which Picard returned. The
salute, it seemed, was the equivalent of the Federation
preferred handshake.
"Here is the premier now," their guide said,
inter-papting Picard's train of thought. Daithin was
heading toward them from the opposite direction. Larkin
was with him.
"I thought we'd take some lunch before the committee
meetings this afternoon," Daithin said. He turned and
indicated a restaurant just behind them. "Would you care
to join us?"
"Of course," Picard said. He and Data
followed the two Elohsians into the restaurant--a
popular one, he judged, since just about every table was
full. Pater, an overweight Elohsian with a very
broad smile, gave the ritual fist-to-chest
greeting to Daithin, then gestured to a waiting table.
A waiter immediately appeared and brought menus--only
for the Starfleet officers. Picard looked over
to Daithin with a puzzled expression.
"We know the menu by heart," he explained.
"May I suggest our mixed vegetable salad with the
herb dip. It's got a nice little bite to it."
Picard nodded. Data, however, continued to scan
the menu.
"Is there something in particular you would like, Commander
Data?" Daithin asked.
"I was just studying the available selections,"
Data replied. "I do not need to eat although I very
much enjoy dining conversation."
"Ah, I see," Larkin said. He and Daithin
exchanged an amused glance and then gave their lunch
order to the waiter.
"Premier," Picard began. "I couldn't help
but notice that the Romulans were not present at
today's session."
"Correct, Captain. They had attended
yesterday's council, before your arrival and are spending
today giving a preliminary briefing to my chief
advisory staff. Don't worry, we've
arranged a schedule that keeps direct contact to a
minimum. I understand perfectly how it can be when
you're so close to people you consider... the enemy."
"And let me tell you it wasn't easy,"
Larkin interjected, "given the few days we
have to work with. If only Nelvana Del wasn't
next week, but we can't change our calendars any
more than you can change yours."
"Indeed," Picard said. Pater and a waiter
returned with several large ceramic bowls.
Larkin's was full of a steaming soup, while
Picard's salad was a vibrant mosaic of
colors. The premier himself seemed content with a
noodle dish sprinkled liberally with what Picard
assumed were local vegetables, having never seen
any of their particular shape or color.
"Outstanding--as always, Pater," Daithin said.
Pater beamed in pleasure at having served his world's
leader, and then faded away, smile still in place.
"You seem quite preoccupied with the Romulans,
Captain," Daithin said.
Picard sat back from the table and studied the
premier. "Only on your account, sir." He
paused a moment. "If I may speak frankly..
2'
"Please," Daithin said, nodding.
"We only consider the Romulans our
adversaries because their entire code of conduct is
something distasteful to the Federation. They grab what they
want, and their values remain an anathema
to us. On the other hand, should they wish to settle the
hostilities between our governments, we'd be only
too happy."
"They say the same of you, Captain," Larkin
added. "Though in much stronger language."
"I'm not surprised," Picard said. Daithin was
right --his salad was delicious.
"Peace is a difficult concept for some people,"
Data put in. "They require certain
challenges in order to remain alive and vital."
"How well I understand that concept," Daithin said.
"In the past, we Dar fought the Populists for
centuries on end."
"Now, Captain," Larkin said. "What of your
battles with the Romulans? I hear tell that of
all the Federation starships, yours has engaged them the
most often."
"Mr. Larkin, while the Enterprise may have
had... dealings... with the Romulans they have not been
pitched battles. No state of war has existed
between our people in nearly two centuries."
"Come, come, Captain," Larkin prodded. "Their
man Plactus has told us of many such
"encounters" with your ship. As I understand it, Commander
Sela is practically family."
Picard couldn't avoid wincing at those words.
Losing Lieutenant Yar under his command was bad enough,
but to be constantly reminded of her each time he saw
Sela... He pursed his lips a moment before
replying. "I will not deny that we've crossed
swords with the Romulans, but I like to think each
encounter has left both sides keenly aware of the
high price such a war would exact." And that was
pretty much all he wanted to say about that.
"Well said, Captain," Daithin said. "Well
said." He stared into Picard's hard eyes with
intensity, but Picard met the gaze and matched it.
The exchange took a few heartbeats but left the
captain aware of the intense scrutiny he was under.
Larkin was doing a good job engaging the Federation
representatives in conversation, allowing the ruling
diplomat the luxury of observation. Picard
resolved to remain ever vigilant.
"Mr. Larkin, exactly what function do you
serve on the council?"
Data's innocent and forthright question immediately changed the
subject and allowed Picard a moment's relaxation.
Larkin seemed thoroughly surprised by the question, and was
actually caught with his soupspoon to his mouth and without
an immediate reply.
"Why, Commander Data, I serve at Daithin's
pleasure. I... advise and counsel him."
"Then you do not enjoy an elected position?"
"No, I do not," Larkin replied. "I serve at
the premier's pleasure. He, of course, is
entitled to advisors much the way your captain can
count on the advice of your first officer and ship's
counselor."
"You know our ship's operation?" Data inquired.
"The Federation was kind enough to send along some
preliminary material so we would be better prepared
to meet with you." Larkin smiled. "I remain
interested in seeing your ship."
"And you will, Mr. Larkin. It's all on the
schedule," Picard said. He's smooth, Picard
noted, impressed by the swift recovery and mastery
of the conversation.
The captain stood. "And now if you'll excuse
us, we have a briefing session scheduled, I
believe."
"Of course, Captain," Daithin said. He
watched them walk away, eyes squinting in the
midday sun.
"What do you think of them, Larkin?" Daithin
asked.
"Very bright, very intelligent. And it's hard
to believe that Data is an android--an
artificial being Impossible to believe."
"A close to indestructible artificial being, the
Romulans say." Daithin stroked his chin
absently. "If we'd had a hundred like him, it
would have changed the war." He sat up straight.
"They make a good impression, Larkin. I like
Picard's demeanor. A real leader, but I can also
see he's a rarity."
"What do you mean?"
"There's a quality about him that you can just tell
makes him stand out from other men. It's hard to tell
when he's with Data, but you can see it with his other
crew."
"What about the Romulans?" Larkin concentrated
entirely on his leader's opinion, adding it to his
own observations.
"A very different breed, don't you think? All so
imperious and impassive. Their leader, Commander
Sela, is definitely an interesting one to watch,
but you can tell there's no real Ioyalty, no real
connection between her and her people. They follow her orders
because there is no other choice. Picard's people show a
connection to him and would probably willingly
lay their lives down for him. The Romulans, I
suspect, would hesitate. Very different styles."
"Well," Larkin said, "we have got more work to do.
The ranking Dars demand more time on the schedule with the
Romulan engineers. I think they don't need it but
it's a bone I can throw them."
"Do that," Daithin said, now walking away from the
restaurant and back toward the imposing parliament
building. "A greedy bunch, those, but we're all
in this together now."
"The unity you mean?"
"No, I mean now that we've invited both alien
races to visit, we must remain united in our
dealings with them or it will turn into a disaster. Mark my
words."
Larkin regarded his friend and leader. "What do you
mean?"
"You saw the fight today. We're no closer
to burying the past today than we were when the parliament first
met. How can I get the governors to see past such
foolishness?"
"Maybe they can't."
Daithin shook his head sadly, slowing his gait.
"If not, then we had best be prepared for a new
civil war. And then the Romulans or
Federation can walk right in and pick up the pieces or
bury the lot of us. Our technology has gotten
so we're very good at death and destruction.
Rebuilding takes longer after each war. We're
reaching a point of no return."
Larkin looked over at his superior.
"Worrying about your place in the history
books?" Larkin asked, clearly trying to lighten the
moment. Daithin, though, was having none of it.
"Much more than that," the premier responded
gloomily. "I'm worried that there won't be any
history books at all unless we can find a way
to keep the alliance together."
Ro made certain that James Kelly's parents
had gone on duty before she approached their home.
Unlike yesterday, when she walked down the
corridor seething with frustration, now she was more than
a bit nervous. She had to control her temper
carefully and make sure the teen understood that she
didn't mean any real harm with her words. Taking
carefully measured steps, she reviewed her exit
from their conversation the day before and wanted to make sure that
the apology was comprehensive. Then, she wanted
to make certain that if he told his parents about her
actions, the apology would also make its way
to them.
Finally, she arrived at the door and pressed the
buzzer. Just as before, the door opened pretty quickly,
and once again there stood the youth, this time in a bright
teal jumpsuit and neatly combed hair. His
expression of delight was not at all what she
expected from him.
"Ensign Ro," he said, his voice high with
excitement.
"Hello, James. Do you have time for me?"
"Time? Sure, sure, come in, please. I've just
finished my course work and was about to go meet some people, but
they can wait. Please, what can I get you?" He
seemed as expectant as a puppy, she noted, and
she was thrown by his enthusiasm at her visit.
"Nothing, thank you. James, I wanted to--
to apologize for my behavior yesterday. It was rather
unbecoming of an officer, and I mistreated you."
She stood still, waiting to see what would happen
next.
James got himself a glass of juice from the
replicator and looked up at her in surprise.
"Oh, that. That was nothing, Ensign. I get worse
from my dad all the time. It seems I never know when
to stop asking about things. It's going to be tough
becoming a social scientist if I can't control
myself."
Feeling off the hook and washed with relief, Ro
took a casual stance. She wasn't prepared
to continue the conversation after the apology. She had
intended to apologize and leave, but now she was stuck
with the eager young man. Again.
"I've been considering xenopsychology or
maybe even the diplomatic corps, but I'm not
sure. My more says I can decide after I've
started my college-level studies. You sure you
don't want anything?"
"Thank you, no." She hoped silence was the
proper approach at this point and let him grind the
conversation to a halt.
"Well, anyway, the stuff I was just working on
involved comparative biology between humans and other
bipedal races. When we first met the Vulcans in
the twenty-first century, we thought the odds against other
humanoid races were remote. But... I guess
you being in Starfleet, I guess you know that."
"I do. The Bajorans' first contact with another
race was long ago and I can't remember which one it
was. Our world has not benefited quite the same as
Earth when it comes to contact with other
civilizations."
"Oh bloody heck, of course, the
Cardassian occupation. Gee, I'm sorry
to make you think about that, Ensign. Pretty
insensitive of me, huh? Anyway, you really should
stay and see my parents again. They'll be back at
sixteen hundred."
Ro shuffled her feet, thinking quickly. The one thing
she had not planned on doing was spending more than half
the day alone with the enthusiastic young man. "I wish
I could," she lied. "But I have other duties to tend
to now. I will be back this evening to meet with them. I
must go now. Thank you again for understanding."
James moved toward her, holding his cup.
"Sure, if you have to go. Thanks for dropping by.
I'll be sure to tell my folks."
Quickly, but not too quickly, Ro moved out of the
room.
Something about the encounter with Kelly left her
feeling even more nervous than before. He was always staring
at her, always smiling at her ....
She stopped dead in her tracks in the
corridor. Could it be that- No, she decided
firmly. There was nothing unusual about the way
James regarded her.
Just the same, she resolved to keep her next
visit with the Kelly family as brief as possible.
Captain's Log, Stardate 46892.6. Our
visit today to Eloh was both enlightening and fortunate.
By that, I mean that we had no negative encounters
with the Romulans. In fact, they have been keeping
to themselves and have caused us no problem. The trouble I
sense comes from an unexpected source--the
Elohsians themselves. Hostilities between the
previously warring factions on the planet are still
simmering beneath the surface. Fundamental
prejudices remain and erupt with alarming
frequency during times of tension. I fear the
Romulans will exploit the tensions and claim the
planet for themselves when no one is looking.
Tonight Premier Daithin is hosting a banquet in
honor of both the Federation and the Romulans. If
Commander Sela is up to something, I hope to spot it
there.
IN the TRANSPORTER ROOM, Captain
Picard surveyed his senior officers, all in
dress uniform. Worf tugged at his collar,
constantly readjusting his shining ceremonial Klingon
sash. Both Dr. Crusher and Troi looked
resplendent in their attire, with Troi
opting for the bright blue off-the-shoulder dress that was an
accepted part of her office. Riker, Geordi, and
Data all appeared fit and ready for the event. He
knew most of them disliked having to wear the current
style of ceremonial dress uniform, and in
practice Picard ordered their use sparingly. But
he could not afford to skip their use this night--nor could
he take chances with any other part of the banquet.
"Before we beam down," Picard began. The
fussing and straightening stopped and all eyes turned
to the captain. "I want to stress a few points.
First, we have much more to learn from these people and I want
to make sure you all remain observant. This is
essential, especially with a contingent of Romulans
in the room."
Stepping onto the transporter platform,
Picard turned to his security officer.
"Warbird status, Mr. Worf?"
The Klingon cleared his throat. "As of five
minutes ago--unchanged."
"Good. Then we can enjoy ourselves, eh?"
Worf suppressed a grimace as Picard
gave the command to energize.
Minutes after beaming down, the Enterprise contingent
was brought to a building that seemed boxy,
lengthy, and a little narrow, with twists to the general
construction. It was a single-level construct that had
silver filigree decorating the outside, just under the
roof and around the windows. A small symbol of
Eloh, made from a large diamond, was above the
doorway, which was rather wide. Darkly uniformed women
hiding beneath charcoal cloaks stood at either side of the
door--protection against unwanted guests, the
captain surmised. Just inside the doorway,
Daithin, dressed in bright yellow with dark orange
trim, greeted the Federation representatives.
He also wore a tight, pointed hat with copper
decorating the crest. Beside him, in a deeper shade
of yellow, was Larkin.
"So good of you to join us, Captain," Daithin
began. He gestured to the room behind him and added,
"I trust you brought your appetites with you. My
cooking staff has spent a week preparing the best
our world has to offer."
"We certainly look forward to the experience,"
Picard replied. "I do not believe you and Mr.
Larkin have met our security chief, Lieutenant
Worf of the Klingon Empire. And this is our chief
medical officer, Dr. Beverly Crusher." Both
crewmen nodded in acknowledgment. Daithin
smiled. Larkin just stared openly at Worf.
"People, please follow me to the opening hall,"
Larkin said. He gestured forward and a very wide door
swung inward, allowing the crew to walk into a brightly
lit room. More darkly clad women milled about,
each proffering ceramic goblets and bottles. None
had the universal translator on their dress;
only the Elohsian dignitaries, including much
of the parliament, did. Alongside one wall was a
wooden table with dish after dish of rich, aromatic
food. The colors were bright and some glistened from
glazes, while others were damp from syrups. A
stack of plates was carefully positioned at the
beginning of the table, while a gleaming lacquered box
awaited the plates at the table's end.
"Rather strong stuff," Crusher whispered, sniffing the
air.
Picard's observations were interrupted by the sight of
four Romulans already on line at the long table.
Sela was not among them, and this made the captain
curious.
THE RO tilde ULAN STRATAGEM
"Premier, could you please tell me where Commander
Sela might be?"
Daithin turned and eyed Picard
carefully. Without expression he merely replied,
"She was detained, her subcommander, Plactus,
tells me." He then turned away and surveyed the
room.
Troi, eyes wide with interest, stepped
alongside Picard and whispered, "I suspect this
is just the first course. I don't see any seating and
this is a small room. I believe we should just
help ourselves. Don't make a meal of this."
"Thank you, Counselor," Picard replied.
"Knowing you, you'll politely try everything and save
yourself for later. Have you learned if this world has any
dessert to rival your chocolate sundae?"
"Not yet," she said with a twinkle in her eye.
"But I'm willing to go exploring." With that, she
sauntered over to the table and helped herself to a sampling
of the first six dishes. Dr. Crusher immediately joined
her, and the feast began.
Picard followed behind, scanning the length of the table
to get a sense of the foodstuffs. From what he was
given to understand, intercontinental commerce was still being
refined, and unique plants and spices remained a
rarity among continents. The first one to figure out a
good distribution system for such items will no doubt be
an economic force to reckon with, Picard
surmised. Worf stepped before the captain and gave'
the table a suspicious look. Picard was
privately amused by the action and was tempted to allow
him merely to sample the fare, just as Troi teased
earlier. However, that would be bad form before the head of
state. Politely allowing Worf to precede him,
Picard took a delicate but substantial
plate.
Geordi La Forge stood near a far wall with a
small bowl of nuts in his hand as Data walked
toward him, his plate brimming with foodstuffs. There
was a companionable silence between the two for a while.
While studying Geordi's expression, Data
tried to deduce his friend's emotional state. He could
tell from the furrows on his brow that Geordi was
troubled by something. He decided to try and detect the
problem through indirect means.
"So, Geordi, what did you think of the
Elohsian computer facilities?"
Geordi looked up and grabbed a handful of
nuts. He began popping them into his mouth, one at
a time, without pause.
Data decided to try again.
"Are their networking capabilities up to Federation
standards?"
Finally, La Forge stopped eating peanuts long
enough to answer. "Actually, no, they're years away
from that. But they do have an effective network which links
all five continents."
Data noted the flat tone in Geordi's
voice. The Enterprise's second officer studied
his friend's facial expressions. They had varied very
little since he initially took his seat. Geordi's
answers were informative but terse. Data guessed that
something had happened during La Forge and Troi's
visit to Carinth Dar. "And they work from a central
processing unit?"
"Year, and it's like a high-pressure setup that
does no one any good. I'd love to get in and
redesign it with some isolinear chip boards but we
can't touch a thing." Geordi popped a whole handful
of nuts in his mouth.
"You do seem frustrated," Data said.
"That's the word, my friend," Geordi said. He
shook his head. "How about we just change the
subject?"
"Of course." Data paused for a moment,
summon THF ROMULAN STRATAGEM
ing up casual conversation subroutines. "Nice
weather we are having, is it not?"
Geordi smiled. "Good try, Data."
"Did I say something funny?"
"It was the non sequitur about something totally
pointless and out of place. You might not realize it,
my friend, but you're developing a sense of humor."
Data paused and considered the statement. He
quickly analyzed the last five minutes' worth of
conversation, studying how his question about the weather fit in
context. The concept of humor, however, although it was
something he had studied in depth for quite some time,
remained elusive.
"Tell me, Data, what have you been working on--
besides the Elohsians, I mean?"
"At the captain's suggestion, I have been
rereading the collected works of Edgar Allen Poe.
Captain Picard was correct that the first fictional
detective was C. Auguste Dupin, whom Poe
created in 1841. Poe also introduced the conventions
of the detective story in all of three Dupin
stories, totaling a mere one hundred pages of
handwritten manuscript. It can be argued, and I
think the captain would agree, that all detective
characters--including his favorite, Dixon
Hillretrace their lineage to Dupin."
Data paused to see what response
he would receive from Geordi, but instead could tell that
once again his friend was not paying full attention to the
conversation. He was somewhat puzzled. Data knew that
Geordi also liked detective stories and had
indulged Data on more than one occasion by dressing
up as Dr. Watson, to Data's Sherlock
Holmes.
Clearly, something was still bothering his friend. Data
wished Geordi would speak openly about the matter, but
the engineer simply popped some more nuts into his mouth
and remained quiet.
"Geordi, I get the impression that there is some
other matter on your mind."
La Forge nodded. "There is." The engineer lowered
his voice. "I just wonder if we're doing the right
thing, getting involved here. These people don't seem
ready for us. Plus, they need so much help
rebuilding, I just want to wade in and start teaching
them. And I can't." "The non-interference
directive," Data said.
Geordi nodded. "You should have seen what happened
today. It was a mess." He popped another nut in
his mouth. "I want to get along with everyone, and when
I can't--well, I guess I don't always know
how to handle it."
"Counselor Troi usually advises
crewmembers just to be themselves. I have noted that this
approach is quite effective."
Putting the bowl down, Geordi looked at
Data and began to smile slowly. He scanned the
room and saw a few Elohsians just chatting
quietly by themselves, near the end of the banquet table.
"I guess it's worth a try. Anything's better
than eating nuts all night."
Picard looked up from his plate to find himself
face-to-face with Subcommander Plactus.
Federation archives on Sela and her crew were almost
nonexistent. Plactus's name did not appear in the
current information available on officers within their
fleet.
The subcommander stood slightly taller than
Pi-card and had steel gray hair and bright blue
eyes. His hair was cropped rather short, and showed no
sign of receding. His pointed ears were prominent and
almost shone in the bright light that emanated from panels
positioned every few feet alongside the walls and
ceiling. Definitely older and more seasoned than
Sela, probably a career officer, Picard
estimated.
"Captain, a distinct honor,"
Plactus said in an even tone.
"Subcommander, I don't believe I've had
the pleasure..." Picard began.
"The pleasure is mine, sir," Plactus
interrupted. "You are rather well known among my people.
After all, we can count on one hand the number of
humans to visit Romulus and return to Federation
space to discuss it. Yes, we know you well."
Picard gripped his plate a little more firmly and
gave a smile with no warmth behind it. "It was an
interesting visit. The insight into your culture was
most... enlightening."
"As it should be, Captain. Our culture
dates back centuries--before your people had learned how
to speak. That depth of culture has allowed us
to thrive and grow, and given us a perspective that
enables us to plan for the future."
Picard stared at him a moment, then chose an
hors de ouevre off his plate. A
vegetablerequite tart. Not altogether unpleasant, he
decided, and took another bite.-Plactus stared
at him, waiting for a response.
This Romulan had a lot to learn if he hoped
to provoke Picard into anything other than a
completely dispassionate discussion.
"Humans and other species in the Federation enjoy
the freedom to debate the course their future will
take. It is one of our fundamental beliefs that
such freedom of choice must be protected."
"I believe, Captain," Plactus said, "that
it is the differences between our fundamental beliefs that
provide the Elohsians a basis of comparison
between our two Empires."
"The Federation is not an Empire, Plactus,"
Picard snapped. "As you wish," Plactus said.
"Nonetheless, both governments are here, parading their
wares and trying to make themselves appealing to a world that can
easily be scooped up by even the Federation without the
need to ask permission. We waste time and materiel
on this folly."
Picard took another bite, letting himself
relax. "Again, you state the obvious. We could
take this world but choose not to. You also could take this
world but choose not to, for fear of a skirmish you can in
afford at this time."
Plactus glared at Picard. "What do you mean
by that, human?"
"I merely observe that the Romulan
Empire's resources have appeared thin since your
return from isolation a mere six years
ago."
"Captain, Subcommander, this is surely not the
place or the time for such debates," Daithin said,
stepping between the two.
"Of course, Premier," Plactus said, moving
off. "It was never my intention to provoke the
captain."
"My apologies as well, Premier,"
Picard said, although in fact he felt he had nothing
to apologize for. How long had Daithin been
observing their exchange? He had the sense the
premier had interrupted them not to stop their argument, but
simply because he'd seen enough.
Time to lighten the mood, he thought, and tried
another item from his plate. This, too, was tart,
although crunchier andwitha more pleasing texture. "Tell
me, Premier, what is this called?"
Daithin smiled. "This is greel, a vegetable
from Numih--my home province. My mother used it
in everything from salad to stuffing. A very versatile
vegetable and a hardy one as well. It can grow in
most any climate. I see that it is in no fewer
than four other items on our appetizer menu."
Geordi and two Elohsians wandered over to join
them.
"Captain, I'd like you to meet Simave and
Dona--Ilena's parents. She was the one who gave
us the tour of Carinth Dar."
Picard nodded formally at each, receiving broad
smiles in return. The woman, handsome
by Elohsian standards, he guessed, took his hand and
said in a throaty voice, "Captain, it is a
pleasure to meet you. My stepdaughter, Ilena,
called us yesterday to rave about how much she enjoyed
meeting your crew."
"Simave and Dona were career diplomats who
helped negotiate the peace treaty between the
Populists and the Dars," Geordi offered.
Picard smiled at the news, certain he'd found
people sympathetic to the Federation's way of life. He
was unsure if they remained influential, but if the
couple already had a good impression of the Starfleet
officers, so much the better. "A very impressive
accomplishment," Picard said. "How did you
achieve such a feat where others failed?"
Simave smiled and gestured toward the ceiling.
"The stars, Captain. Our technology had finally
managed to bring radio signals from space to the
common people. We finally were able to show that there were other
civilizations in space and that we were all
part of a greater community."
Dona nodded and continued. "Simave's telling just
part of it, Captain. We reasoned with both sides
that sooner or later some spaceship was going to find us
and we had better be ready to deal with alien races from
a position of strength rather than have people find us divided.
Eloh has much to offer the universe, I feel, and
I was able to convince key leaders on both sides that
I was right."
"We used the stars as a way to show that the
philosophical and petty political differences
between Dars and Populists was nothing compared to races that
could fly from star to star. We were denying ourselves our rightful
place among the starfaring races by impeding planetary
development with useless warfare. There were adventures
to he had among the stars, worlds to win, and greater
struggles to he had for gain than proving one way of
thinking was better than another. It took Dona and
me a few years to bring everyone together on this point,
but we won out."
Picard nodded thoughtfully, but was mentally alarmed
at the tenor of the conversation. He knew a world capable
of decades-long civil wars would be aggressive,
but to stop fighting among themselves to take on other worlds
--well, that was something else entirely. The
Elohsian way of thinking would bear greater
scrutiny. He made a note to discuss the matter
with Troi when the banquet was over.
He continued to make small talk with the couple and
Geordi until Larkin approached, followed by a
serving woman carrying a tray with steaming gray
towels. She handed towels to each of the four and then*
patiently waited to retrieve them. When the tall,
silent woman had departed, Larkin waved a hand
toward the door at the end of the room. Another
darkly clad woman was waiting by the handle, ready
to open the way ceremoniously into the next chamber.
"This way, Captain, if you please," Larkin
said smartly.
Picard led the roomful of people to the doorway and
waited patiently as the thick, heavy door was
opened. The woman showed no strain but it obviously
was an effort. Inside, the next room was slightly
larger, with small tables and high, straight-backed
chairs. Again, a long table was set into one wall.
This room was somewhat dimmer than the previous one,
with fewer lighting panels; these were muted as well.
On the table was a selection of six steaming
cauldrons. The containers were each distinctively
colored with graphics depicting local
vegetables, fish, and fowl.
Larkin led Plactus to the head of the line and
loudly explained the nature of each dish, for all
guests to hear. The Romulan officer picked up a
wide, deep bowl with three compartments and selected
one fish, one bird, and one vegetable soup. Larkin
nodded silently in approval as Plactus
completed his way down the table, and then gestured for the
remaining Romulans to follow. Larkin then motioned
for the Enterprise crew to serve themselves, following their
counterparts. Picard allowed his officers to precede
him and once again took his place behind Worf.
While this meant little to Picard, he recognized that
the Klingon warrior in Worf liked leading the
captain, standing in harm's way.
Even on the soup line.
Peering around the Klingon, Picard watched his
officer carefully smell each soup, selecting just
two, both disfowl. "The idea, Mr. Worf, is
try one of each variety," Picard said quietly.
His security chief turned stiffly, and nodded.
"I know, sir, but these others smell like veO,"
came the soft yet forceful reply.
The captain nodded, and then smiled. "Didn't
your mother ever tell you that vegetables were good for
you?"
Worf grunted and moved back into line.
As the various officers completed the line, some
took seats at the tables while others continued
to mill about. Picard took the advantage to wander
about the warm room, exploring the construction and trying
to better understand their architectural philosophy.
He guessed that the structure was rather old, perhaps more
than a hundred years. There were signs of weathering and
hard use, but everything seemed structurally sound and
well maintained. The windows were shuttered with brass
fixtures that held solid boards, blocking out
prying eyes and, unfortunately, the pleasing
twilight. There were but two doors noticeable in the
room, so Picard wondered about the arrival and
removal of the soup tureens. Perhaps a mechanism that
moved the long table into the kitchen? He began to look
about the room, but his attention was caught by the sight of a
Romulan centurion heading straight for Worf's
table.
The Romulan had finished her soup and was carrying
the empty bowl. Worf was politely sipping from his
bowl, using the deep-bowled spoons that were provided.
His expression told Picard that neither was to his
liking, despite the meat content. The
security chief looked up and glared at the
centurion standing over him. She, too, was clearly
not to his liking.
"So, Klingon, what's it like serving aboard a
ship of sheep?"
Picard noted the woman was young for a centurion.
She had closely cropped black hair and a very
interesting twist to the tips of her ears. The upswept
eyebrows allowed for a liberal amount of eye shadow,
which was used to give her features an exotic look.
It more than made up for the face, which was rather plain.
"I serve with people from thirteen different races,
none of which house sentient sheep," Worf
responded.
"And yet you do not command them." The Centurion
leaned in closer to Worf and smiled. "We
Romulans have always wondered why your people allowed
themselves to be beaten into submission."
Worf's nostrils flared for a brief moment.
"No such event took place, Centurion."
"My name is Telorn, Klingon," she
snapped, cutting him off. "I am Centurion
Telorn of the N'ventnar, a ship you will come to rue."
Worf set down his soup spoon and took a
deep breath. He stood, and Telorn
took a step backward. Picard saw her tense,
the muscles in her legs coiling for action.
Please no, Mr. Worf he found himself praying
silently. Not a fight. Not here. Not now.
The Klingon looked at Telorn for a moment and
then said stiffly, "I am Lieutenant Worf,
Centurion Telorn. And I am pleased to meet
you."
Before the Romulan could respond, Worf
plunged ahead. "As for our relationship with the
Federation, we sued for peace at a time when it best
served our interests."
The woman placed her bowl on the nearest table,
catching the interest of Data, Dr. Crusher, and
Dona. "You serve willingly, then?"
Worf nodded and gritted his teeth, his hands
clenching and unclenching, muscles rippling beneath his
skin.
"I have always thought Klingons would make good serving
people."
Worf grunted. Picard started to put his bowl
down in case his officer lost control.
"I believe we have nothing further to say,"
Worf beganstand started to move away. She
sidestepped and came directly into his
path, their chests brushing.
"Not so fast, Klingon. We are ordered to fit in
here, and so I am under obligations to makemwhat's the
human phrase?"
"Small talk," came the sudden reply from
Data. He had stood up and rapidly approached
the pair, shielding their confrontation from Daithin.
"In fact, Centurion, I am most interested in
finding out more about the way the Romulans see Eloh
fitting in with the rest of the Empire. I have many
theories and would like to see if any of them match your
own scheme."
During the rush of words, Worf stepped back and
around Telorn. Picard was pleased by Data's
improved ability to sense emotional distress and
act to help a fellow officer. The leaps and bounds
his internal programming had made since they first
met nearly seven years ago never stopped amazing
Picard.
A moment later, Larkin led everyone to the next
great door, which opened onto a room with long
banquet tables. This time, both sides were adorned
with platters of food, ranging from cooked meats
to raw fish, and with an astonishing assortment of
vegetables, fruits, and condiments.
Following the previous pattern, Plactus was led
through first, but the Starfleet officers were given first
turn at the buffet. The difference here, though, was that
as each person finished filling his plate on one
side, a serving girl in a darkly shaded gown
took the visitor to a specific seat.
By the time Romulans, Starfleet officers, and
Elohsians had completed their first visit to the
buffet table, Picard noted that people were paired up in
an unusual fashion. At the other end of his table,
Dr. Crusher was placed next to Plactus, a
military man, while at the table to his back
Geordi was placed next to Ilena's parents.
Amusingly, Data was placed next to the centurion
who had unsuccessfully tried to provoke Worf,
and he still attempted to engage her in a political
debate. Picard noted that he himself was placed
opposite Sela's still-empty seat and next
to Daithin, who had the head of the table. Larkin was
placed at the head of the second table, where Worf
had his back to the captain, not at all to his
approval judging from his deep scowl.
THI tilde ROMULAN @.traiagem
Before anyone could take a first bite of their
entree, Daithin rose.
"My friends from the stars, before we begin our main
meal, I want all of us to take a moment and give
thanks. I know we each have differing beliefs, but we
all recognize the existence of a guiding force that
brought life to the universe and gave us all the
intelligence we have employed to bring us together. Let
us give thanks for our existence and for the fine food before
us. May no one go hungry, may no one live in
want, may no one cower in fear."
There was a moment's silence, and then all the
Elohsians deeply bowed their heads, touching the
edge of the tables. Daithin smiled serenely and brought
his hands together in a soft clap. With that, everyone
looked up and dinner began.
The meat was delicious, with a kind of thick,
naturally seasoned gravy served on the side. No
doubt containing thousands of calories. No matter,
the captain told himself, he'd leave the nutritional
assess-me.nt of the meal to Dr. Crusher. For his
part, all he cared about was the taste.
"When the tour is done tomorrow, Captain Picard,
I hope you will save some time for me to introduce you
to my favorite pastime," Daithin said. "It's
called Start. I'm sure you will find it mentally
stimulating."
"Thank you, Premier, I will make sure
to arrange the time," Picard politely replied.
"Commander Sela tried it herself the first day they were
here, and she has already requested a game set for her
personal use," Daithin added.
"Premier," Picard continued, "I couldn't
help but notice over the last few days that there still
remain tensions among the warring factions. What is
being done to maintain harmony?"
conL
Daithin chewed his dinner for a moment, obviously
weighing answers in his mind. He stole a moment
to glance toward Larkin, who was deep in a conversation of
his own with Commander Riker and a Romulan centurion
Picard did not recognize. He pushed some food
around on his plate and then took a long sip from his
goblet. "A simple, straightforward question,
Captain, and one certainly deserving of a simple,
straightforward response. I wish I had one.
"The Populists and the Dars have been at each
other's throats for millennia--or so it seems.
In a few short years we've managed a
fragile peace, and it's good of you to note that we have
not perfected our cherished unity. I see it as something
to continue to strive for, something to keep us going
as a people. By joining the galactic community, we hope
to see examples of how this has been done throughout the
stars. The council and parliament have done everything we
can by making unity and acceptance of others a core part
of our school curriculum and religious
activities. Our own holidays and festivals,
such as Nelvana Del, are also designed to bring people
together in large public ways. And yet... and
yet..." Daithin let his words trail off, his
eyes searching the pastel ceiling for answers.
"And yet, Captain," he continued, "people won't.
forget the smallest slight that one clan or family
line may have done to another. Port towns resist
Dar merchants moving in because of attacks made
generations ago. Scientists carefully shield
research rather than go further with the aid of work done on
other continents. I even heard that once last year a
farmer let a field rot rather than use Populist
field hands. Without unity, I fear for this world's
prosperity. We try and we try, but it gets
frustrating."
Picard nodded in sympathy and said, "It was much the
same on my world, Earth, Daithin. Old
religious differences or skin color led people
to fight, kill, and destroy. It was many
centuries before we put that behind us. I have a feeling
that if humans, as fierce and stubborn as we are, can
do that, then it can happen here, too."
"Let us hope so, Captain," Daithin
responded. Before either man could add anything, there was
a stirring among the diners, and everyone looked up.
Making a rather theatrical entrance was Commander Sela in
perfect Romulan dress uniform, complete with a
rarely seen cloak that swirled about her compact form.
This was a warrior who commanded attention and, if not
respect, certainly fear. Her face was a stone
mask of seriousness, and Picard noted that the
attractive details of her eyes and mouth were
missing, buried beneath a combative attitude.
The door to the main chamber had barely closed by the
time she reached Daithin and Picard. Formally, she
stood by her empty chair and uttered, "I deeply
regret my delay, Premier, but as you well know,
the duties of office come before all things, including
dinner."
Daithin smiled and gestured to the wall-length table
still filled with food. "No need to apologize,
Commander, no need at all. After all, we had
only just begun and there is so much left to be tried.
Fill your plate and join us, please."
As Sela nodded and strode off, Picard watched
Daithin. As soon as the Romulan had turned, his
eyes registered the annoyance her late arrival
caused. Picard assumed Sela arrived late
to be theatrical, but it may have backfired.
No sooner had Sela taken her seat than
Picard spoke up again, moving Daithin on to a
different conversation. "I hear from Commander Riker that you
intend to tour the Enterprise tomorrow. I believe you and
your advisors will be impressed. Knowing the commander,
he's having the decks polished and the screens shined."
"Surely you're joking, Captain. I'd much rather
see the ship in its everyday state."
Picard smiled and let the premier know he was
embellishing the state of readiness for effect.
"I would say that Premier Daithin found much
to his liking aboard the NY-ENTNAR," Commander
Sela commented around a mouthful of meat.
"Oh yes, Captain, their ship, the Bared
Fang, was quite a sight," Daithin agreed.
"Obviously both ships are way beyond anything
Eloh has today. I tell you, it inspires me no
end to see what the future will hold, no matter which
Empire we align ourselves with. Just walking the
decks I could sense the power there was to command.
Have you been on a Romulan ship, Captain?"
"No, Daithin, he hasn't," Sela
injected. "At least, not that I am aware of.
Captain Picard has, however, visited our
homeworldbledunannounced man for that I salute
him." She waved her goblet in Picard's general
direction and took a long drink.
"On the other hand, we did offer you the
opportunity to visit our ship openly and without
escort." He referred to the time Commander Sela
voluntarily came aboard the Enterprise, the
same time she had first proclaimed that she was the
daughter of his dead security chief, Tasha Yar.
The alluring mystery in that claim had not worn off
on Pieard and, though nearly two years had passed
since he heard those words, he still had no evidence
to support or refute the charge. As a result,
he remained coldly fascinated by her.
"The openness you so casually display to all will one
day prove your undoing, Captain," Sela said.
"On the contrary, Commander, I believe it is just
that willingness to accept others that will prove to be our
strength."
"You dilute your people with culture after culture,
constantly blending and softening. That is why
we will be here a century from now while other races
are homogenized out of existence. You can see what
happened to the Vulcans, Andorians, and Benzites
and now you can watch it happen to the Klingons."
An audible growl rose from the next table but
Counselor Troi kept Worf in his chair with a
glance. All eyes were focused on Sela, and
only now did Picard notice the silence in the
chamber. "Your accusations are baseless, Commander,"
Picard said. "All the races you name enjoy the
full benefits of Federation
membershipmtechnology, resources,
defense-while maintaining their own cultural
integrity."
"Officers, please," Daithin said. "I'm
sure each of you has a story to tell. But not tonight.
Please, Captain, Commander, enjoy this meal."
Sela glared at Picard for a moment and then
returned her attention to the barely touched plate before
her. The captain merely picked up his fork and took
a mouthful of vegetables. He paused a moment
to glance over toward Troi, who smiled at him.
Satisfied, Picard concentrated on his dinner.
While eating, he did manage to overhear
snippets of conversation from further down his
table and at the one behind him. Geordi was holding forth
on computer theory and Dr. Crusher was questioning child care
options among the working classes. Worf seemed
content to remain silent, watching over the proceedings.
No doubt, he was preparing for more baiting.
Down at the other end of his table, Plactus,
Picard noticed, was certainly interested in whatever
Crusher had to say. To his surprise, they were
discussing families.
"A son in the military," Crusher was saying
while Plactus contemplated the food on his
plate.
"He will go far, that one," Plactus said with

boa/l pride. "And you, do you have offspring$9"
"Yes, I have a son, Wesley, now completing
his work at Starfleet Academy."
Plactus smiled at Crusher, showing worn
teeth. "So we both will have sons in the military--
excellent."
"Starfleet is not the military and you know that,
Plactus," she said.
He took a drink from his mug and gestured for a
refill. "Should there be a fight, it will be Starfleet
who defends the borders. That's military and you know
that, my dear doctor."
"I wouldn't want my son to be a soldier,
Plactus. He's brilliant and will probably be
designing new engines or inventions that will
revolutionize the way we all live."
Plactus eyed Crusher carefully at those words,
something working behind the gaze, Picard noted. He had
rarely heard her boast so openly about her son's
being a genius, but then again, she was a mother not about to be
one-upped by a Romulan's warrior son. "How
so?" he asked.
"I don't know yet, but when he lived on the
Enterprise he did some pretty amazing things without
formal training. I can only imagine that when he
graduates he'll be ready to do something currently
indescribable. As a result, I hope, our children
will never have to meet in battle."
To Picard's surprise, Plactus laughed at
the sentiment and drained his newly refilled mug.
Carefully wiping his mouth, he looked again at
Crusher and smiled. It was a calculating smile and
not at all genuine. "I hope that is true,
Doctor, but who can tell what will happen tomorrow?
Eloh's sun may go nova. We may be at war.
We may become brothers. You may finally
recognize our moral superiority."
Crusher made a face at Plactus and shook
her head. "I think not, Subcommander." With that, she
turned to her other side and began speaking
to Conductor General Luth.
The remainder of the dinner was uneventful, but the
silence at Picard's end of the table, with Daithin,
Sela, and himself, was palpable. He would have
to correct that when the meal continued into the next
chamber. No doubt dessert, but the captain hoped
against after-dinner drinks for fear that any real
alcohol might exacerbate a tense situation.
Soon enough, Larkin rose and nodded toward three
serving women. At first they circulated the room with
more gray towels, and then they carefully covered the now
mostly emptied serving dishes and platters, being
careful to remain silent in their actions. Finally they
turned in unison and another woman took her
place by the next door. Picard guessed it would be
his turn to go through the door, but he was surprised
to see Daithin stroll ahead of the others. Perhaps the
premier led the way since this, in theory, would be the
final room during the banquet. His stomach hoped
so since it was full, despite polite portions
allowing him to sample most of the dishes. A workout was
definitely needed in the morning.
Daithin stood before the door and waited for Sela
and Picard to catch up with him. The Elohsian
nodded to the woman, who nodded back and then pushed, rather
than pulled, and the door opened. As expected, the
decor of the room was at once spacious and full,
with small tables in the center and the usual lengthy
wall table filled with desserts. Unlike the other
rooms, though, the lighting was cheerful and the walls were
filled with bright murals. They were all geometric
designs definitely pleasing to the eye. Picard
particularly liked the one directly above the
sweet-smelling desserts.
"Premier, this is a marvelous place with which to end
the banquet," Picard exclaimed.
"Yes, we do like to finish with a bit of a splash,
yes indeed." Daithin smiled.
"If you don't mind, I will let my counselor
lead my people since this is an area in which she
excels."
"By all means, Captain, by all means. It's
nice to see that you allow others to blaze trails rather
than save them all for yourself."
An interesting observation, Picard noted, and
filed it away with the others collected already for later
contemplation. In the meantime, he gestured for
Troi to take the lead, and she passed him with a wide
grin. Dr. Crusher sidled up to Picard and
whispered, "You know, if there was one more room here, I
think I'd burst."
Picard nodded and replied, "I don't know about
you, but I think it's just going to be coffee for me tomorrow
morning."
Troi gazed at the various delicacies,
allowing Larkin the privilege of explaining each
dish to her despite the small blue placards
next to each setting. With her plate amply
loaded, she moved off toward the far table and took a
seat. Politely, she awaited company but
carefully eyed the foods before her. As she waited,
a small, dark-paneled trolley was wheeled into the
room and a serving woman with hair in yet another
elaborate design went directly toward the
counselor.
"May I offer you a beverage?"
Troi smiled in surprise. "I didn't think
you were allowed to speak."
The woman nodded solemnly and said, "We speak
when we have something to offer. Our role here is to fully
support the diners and staff, not become a part of the
event itself."
"Do these banquets happen often?"
"No. The parliament has a meal like this at the
beginning of each assembly. We had the largest one
when the peace was declared. Now, would you like something hot
or cold?"
The Betazoid selected a frothy hot drink that
had some spices sprinkled on top. The hostess
indicated that given Troi's choices for dessert,
this would be the most complementary drink. One whiff and
Troi beamed in agreement. She strode off,
inspecting one of the murals, when Plactus stepped
toward her.
"Counselor Troi, I believe," he said, in
a smooth tone.
"Yes, Subcommander. What do you think of the
painting style?"
He merely glanced at the wall for a moment and
admitted, "I know so little about art, it does not pay
to ask me. But, may I ask you something?"
"Of course," she nodded, wondering at
Plactus' sudden interest in her.
"We have not seen much of you on this world and wonder why
the ship's counselor is not attending more of the
informational sessions?"
Troi sipped at her drink and
considered. "Actually, I have been part of the away
teams studying the planet."
"I am surprised that you did not attend the
parliamentary session yet. I would imagine a good
captain would want a counselor's interpretation of the
people."
Troi studied Plactus, who remained
unmoving, hands clasped behind him. He had declined
all manner of dessert and seemed intent on talking
with her. "You seem to know a good deal about how we should
do things."
"We study the Federation quite carefully,
Counselor. We watch who is near our borders
because they might pose a threat to our security. Did
you know, for example, that we have had troubles of late
with Corvallens?"
The mention of the Corvallens made Troi stiffen.
Did Plactus know she was involved with the recent
incidents involving the defection of Vice Counsel
M'ret? The deception had involved Troi
disguising herself as a Romulan. Plactus must be
toying with her. Or was he? Troi could read nothing from
the Romulan.
"Oh, yes, we had one near us that seemed
engaged in piracy," Plactus continued.
"We may be many things, but not pirates. Am I
right, Counselor?"
""Pirate" is certainly not a name I would
associate with a Romulan," was all she managed
to say.
Plactus beamed. "True. In fact, we
blew up such a pirate ship recently. If
I'm not mistaken, the Enterprise was nearby at the
time."
He knew! Troi forced a curious expression
to her features. "If we had been nearby, I
certainly don't recall being there when it occurred.
You're not saying we had anything to do with piracy."
"No, no," Plactus said reassuringly.
"Pirate is certainly not a name I would
associate with the Federation. Instead, I just find it
interesting how often we actually manage to blur the
lines between our peoples. Comings and goings across the
border in both directions. You'd almost think we were
friendly neighbors."
TH@L ROMULAN STRATAGEM
Troi recalled the days she spent as an
imperious Romulan, summoning those feelings of
discipline. She wanted very much to redirect the
conversation. Plactus obviously enjoyed
baiting members of the Enterprise crew for the
Elohsians' benefit, but she was not going
to submit.
"We are not friendly neighbors, Plactus," she
said. "The goings-on you mention involve spying and
deceptions that are forced by the hostile state of
affairs between us. They will remain hostile, too,
until you recognize the galaxy is big enough for the

both of us."
"Of course, Counselor," he said. "Your
bluntness surprises me. If you were Romulan,
I'd say you were capable of command... of, say, even
one of our warbirds. Perhaps the N'ventnar or the
Khazara."
Oh yes, he knew and he was having fun
taunting her with the information. The Romulans might not
be pirates but they were sadists. "Both seem to be
fine representatives of the Romulan Empire,"
Troi replied in as hard a voice as possible.
"Both ship's captains--Sela and Torethmfar
better exemplify the Empire than disthe
underlings."
"Well said, Counselor."
Troi decided to take the offensive. "It's
even more interesting to note that the Romulans
must use subterfuge to get what they want. It must
be difficult to spend every waking moment looking for the
next way to take advantage of your opponent."
Plactus rose to the bait, acting annoyed at
Troi's turnabout. "Our methods have worked for a
millennium and we remain a force to be reckoned
with. On the other hand, you sound like your precious
Federation is above subterfuge of its own. Using
unidentified Betazoids during negotiations,
hiding Vulcans on our homeworld, probing our
borders with every passing sensor sweep . . .
"I think the continuation of this conversation serves little
purpose, Plactus," Troi snapped, cutting
him off. She had heard enough.
"I don't think so, things are getting interesting,"
he said with a sly smile.
"I believe I said the conversation was over,
Sub-commander," Troi stated firmly. He
continued to step closer.
"You heard the counselor," thundered Worf,
striding over and catching their attention. Both looked
at the imposing Klingon, who seemed to get larger
by the second.
"Thank you for the interesting chat." And as suddenly as
he approached her, the subcommander wandered
off, immediately engaging Wain in some new conversation.
"Thank you, Worf," Deanna said as the
Romulan left hearing range. She let out a
deep breath and leaned against the wall, suddenly
feeling drained.
"The captain did say we should not cause any
incidents," Worf said matter-of-factly. Troi
could not tell if he was teasing or being dead serious.
"My hero," she said with a grin and then grew
serious as she mentally reviewed the confrontation.

Troi and Worf were quickly joined by Riker.
"Plactus knows I posed as Major Rakal,"
Troi said. "He knows I was on the Khazara.
How could he possibly know, and why bring it up
here?"
Riker thought a moment before answering. "Plactus
was testing us, Deanna. He tried to provoke
Beverly just as that centurion tried to provoke
Worf. They want us to look bad but we haven't
risen to their bait." "But, Will, how could he know?"
"I don't know Deanna, but it could mean trouble.
We'd better tell the captain."
The room quickly filled as people took small
desserts, reflecting the amount of food consumed
prior to this final stop. In a break from
previous arrangements, Etohsians were clustered
together while Romulans stayed near a corner,
having taken the smallest portions possible while still
remaining polite.
Picard listened to Troi's report, his face
growing dark with concern and anger. "Toreth, of
course, reported the deception to the senate and now
it's one more piece of information for their files. So be
it. It won't have any bearing on us this mission. We
won't let it."
"Of course, Captain," Troi said.
"I believe that if we convened our group right now,
each and every one of us would report a confrontation with a
Romulan. This is a deliberate gambit on their
part." Picard returned his attention to Troi. "I
hope it didn't ruin your dessert. The pastries
look delicious."
"They were, Captain, but I've lost my
appetite," she answered. "We'd better not stay
in a cluster; it's counterproductive to the spirit of the
evening and might let Plactus think he won some
victory."
"I agree," he said. Mug in one hand, he
purposefully walked toward Commander Sela, who was
near her countrymen but not part of a grouping.
"Our earlier conversation was certainly not dinner
talk," he began. "I was not trying to irritate
you."
Sela stared at Picard with no discernible
expression on her face. She merely looked down
at her nearly finished plate and contemplated it.
"We each have a job to do, and parading our
philosophies so nakedly before Daithin is not how
I intend to win this world."
"So, you expect to win it, Captain?"
"Of course, Commander. Starfleet has entrusted
this mission to me and I would be something less than
officer material if I didn't approach each
assignment expecting to complete it
satisfactorily."
Sela seemed to consider his words, the soft tone,
and the force of character Picard radiated, even standing before
her, drinking something smelling sickly sweet.
"I, too, expect to come out of this victorious.
Only one of us will be satisfied."
Now it was Picard's turn to consider this woman.
Her cold confidence continued to fascinate him because he
recognized that beneath the icy exterior was a woman of
tortured emotions. She was half-human and
half-Romulan--very few such hybrids were
known to exist in the universe. Just as other
interspecies offspring had trouble adjusting to their
dual natures, he could only imagine what
Sela was going through, committed to one culture while
still holding on to vestiges of her past. Surely
something of Tasha Yar survived within her.
"Commander, I must compliment you and your officers on
the way you have comported yourselves. I know this is
difficult given our past... differences."
"I act as the situation demands, Captain. In
fact, the way I act now is directly because of
you."
Picard looked at her in astonishment but said
nothing.
"Yes, Captain. After all, coming to convince the
Elohsians to willingly join the Romulan
Empire is not exactly a choice assignment.
In fact, some might see it as a form of
punishment." Her glare grew even more intense.
"You've cost me, Picard. Cost me in ways
you've never imagined. I fought my way to the top and
was given command of key operations. With each success
I was given more authority and more power. I was feared and
my very word meant life or death. In a short time,
I conceived two very unique plans. Had
they worked, I would have challenged the powers that be for a
seat of power. The praetor himself would have feared my
success.
"Instead, both plans failed. You spoiled them
both, Picard. First, you mined years of planning and
work that would have left the Klingon Empire ripe for the
taking. Just payback for the abuses we suffered at
their hands decades ago. You and your Klingon
servant--Worf--comspoiled that.
"And there was, of course, your miraculous
mission on my homeworld. We're still hunting down
Spock and his paltry underground. Mark my words,
Picard, they will be found and their insurrectionist
movement will be stopped before much longer."
Picard calmly took the verbal lashing and just
watched the officer. Emotions foreign to most
Romulans--or their Vulcan cousins--were on
display, and he remained captivated.
"You may think what you will, Sela, but from my
brief visit to your people, they seem ready for
something... different. The way of life I saw was not
at all the way of life of a strong people. They may be
better off if they follow Spock's way."
Sela listened to Picard's words and remained
silent for a moment. For just an instant,
Picard thought he might have reached something within her,
made her reconsider her course of action.
She shook her head.
"You cost me," she continued. "Two defeats that
turned out to waste untold man-hours and resources
that I'm now told could have been used successfully
elsewhere. The Romulans are a very unforgiving people,
Captain. I was duly punished for my failures,
and this is the result." She gestured toward her
colleagues, who by now were at least mingling a bit with
members of the Elohsian party. Picard noted his
own officers were also fully engaged in mingling.
"I have been reduced to command of an old, failing
starship peopled by a crew of officers that no one in
the fleet wanted. This diplomatic mission is the
best assignment I've had since the demotion. They
said this was to see if I had learned my lesson."
Her eyes grew wide and she looked directly
at Picard. If possible, her face hardened all
the more.
"I will win this world, Picard. And I will do it
following my orders and by playing within the Elohsian
rules. I shall bring this world's flag to the praetor and
then see how I fare against the senate. You're very good
with words, Captain, but to win a world you need
more than that."
With that said, she turned away from him and walked off
toward Plactus, who was speaking with Done. Picard
watched her stalk off and pondered her words. He
resolved that he would keep a closer eye on her,
if such a thing was possible. His thoughts, though, were
interrupted when Simave and Larkin wandered by, each
finishing a steaming mug of something strongly sweet.
"All in all, I think this turned out
wonderfully," Simave offered when they paused
by Picard.
The captain nodded and smiled. "Indeed. The
food on this world is quite a treat. People may come here just
for that, should things work out in the Federation's favor."
Larkin looked down at Picard with a touch of
surprise. He placed his mug on the nearest table
and asked, "Do you really think Federation tourists would
come to this world just to eat?"
"There are those who line up to be first to visit any
new Federation member world. Being this far out, there would be
trade ships and diplomatic missions and, of
course, Starfleet vessels patrolling the new
borders."
"And just how much protection would Starfleet offer?"
Simave asked.
"This is neither the time nor the place to get into such
specifics, sir, but all worlds are offered
protection by patrolling vessels, and if this were to be
the new border, then it would be monitored and
protected by a starship assigned to this sector. We
would be able to answer a distress call, more often than
not, within holletters."
Larkin nodded silently, storing away the information.
Like Daithin, he seemed an information sponge, and
continued to allow those around him to probe and inquire.
Picard had seen his like on many other worlds and noted,
with mild interest, that world leaders always seem to need
someone just like him.
"And now, Captain, the hour is beginning to draw
late. Would you do us the honor of going first?" "First?
I don't understand, Larkin."
"It is our custom, at the end of such an event,
to have our guests of honor conclude the evening with a
short speech. Something to signify the importance of the
event and give the guests words to remember."
"I had not been so informed and have not prepared
anything."
Larkin merely nodded and said, "That was a mistake
from my office, then. My apologies. Could you say
something anyway?"
"Of course. Give me a moment to prepare."
With that, Picard stepped away from his hosts and moved
slowly toward his crew. Deep down, he
suspected that Larkin did not tell him on
purpose, and this was another little test to see how the
differing worlds handled unprepared scenarios. No
doubt, though, his years of experience in diplomacy
would enable him to best Sela in a match of words. He
hoped.
No more than five minutes later, Daithin
stood before the exit door with serving women flanking
him on both sides. The Elohsians assembled
recognized the formation and quickly grew silent. They
had placed their plates and mugs on tables and stood
in rapt attention. Federation and Romulan officers
quickly matched movements, although a look of confusion was
found on more than one face.
"My people, my guests, this has been a truly
marvelous evening, truly marvelous. But we grow
tired and rest is required for tomorrow's challenges.
We have asked Captain Picard from the Federation
to honor us with the first closing approbation. Captain?"
For a moment Picard thought he was about to testify before
a court--something he also had experience with. But he
banished those stray thoughts, plucked his
uniform straight, and stepped up by Daithin. The
premier sidestepped to the left and created a space
for the Starfleet officer.
"Premier Daithin, on behalf of the United
Federation of Planets, and most immediately my crew and
myself, I thank you and the people of Eloh for your kind and
generous hospitality this evening.
"Our very credo is to explore, seek out new
civilizations, and study the wonders of the universe.
During my years of such exploration, I have helped
discover new worlds and explanations for what has
become of older civilizations. I have seen new
life and far too much death.
"I have also seen, in my lifetime, peace settle
in between peoples that never imagined such things happening.
Just as Eloh itself has healed divisions that many
probably considered irreparable. We share your joy
in such unity. As you leave a better world for your children,
it is our intention to leave the universe a better
place after we have left it. We do that in the form of
help. Our ships and personnel can help disaster
victims or teach the latest planting techniques
to worlds in need. We've kept the corridors of
space safe for merchants, visitors, and newly

discovered peoples.
"Recently, the Federation has helped discover, and
now protects, a marvelous new doorway to the
other side of the galaxy. With our help and
protection, scientists are now beginning to learn
what's out there. Something people have only dreamed about.
"We do not set these goals because we feel they are
the only way to ensure our point of view
prevails. Instead, we have established the United
Federation of Planets to preserve each world's
identity and let people grow and evolve as they choose.
But each world knows that it can expect help from a
neighbor, not exploitation. They can grow safe in the
knowledge that they can take a risk and learn from the experience.
And should disaster fall, that help is not far off.
"We bring this same set of assurances to Eloh
and the Elohsian people. Our experience here has been
short, but I would say that this is a young world, having
grown up in a terribly short amount of time. Such
survival against the odds is impressive. It's that
independent spirit I have felt here on Eloh, and
bask in it.
"I have no doubt that tonight symbolizes a great
step forward in a friendship between peoples, Romulans
included, that can even be a turning point in our
galaxy. It's an honor to be here and
participate in such a moment. I thank you for the
invitation and the opportunity to come and know you and your
families."
Picard smiled warmly toward Dona and the others.
All had stood rapt while Picard spoke. The
captain's love for performing Shakespeare certainly
stood him in good stead here. Mentally reviewing the
just-completed speech compared with comments he had heard
during his stay, Picard was satisfied that he said enough
to be substantive but kept it short enough so as not
to bore. All in all, a good performance. The
assessment was confirmed by the big grin from Deanna
Troi and the happy look in Will Riker's eyes.
Even Dr. Crusher offered him a discreetly
placed thumbs-up. Worf remained stoically
silent, but when Picard caught his eye the captain
received a knowing, albeit short, nod of the head.
Across the room, Sela, Plactus, and the others
stood still; no emotion was visible from any of them. The
commander's arms were crossed, holding her form tight, not
allowing Picard even to guess how his words were received
by the Romulans.
Daithin stepped before Picard, all smiles.
"Marvelous, Captain, marvelous. We've
recorded those words and will broadcast them on
tonight's news feed. No doubt they will be much discussed
at tomorrow's school sessions. And now, would you join us
up here, Commander Sela?"
The Romulan leader purposefully moved through the
parting crowd, her arms hidden under the cloak and her
expression unchanged. When Daithin once again
sidestepped to make way for her, she took her
place at military attention, adding a smile for the
benefit of her audience.
"The Romulan government also thanks Eloh for
its kind invitation to visit and get to know your world and
your people. This is something new for us and a sign that the
galaxy is changing. Old rules and old ways do
not always work in new circumstances. We have learned this
and have acted accordingly. Your world, as you know, lies
directly between border spots between the
Klingon-Federation and Romulan governments.
Yesterday it could easily have been a spoil of war,
but not today. No, today brings about a new kind of
diplomatic war. An opportunity to win a world in
ways unfamiliar to many. It's a way I am
personally unfamiliar with, but I have chosen to brave
this new challenge by going at this with vigor.
"The Romulan people have also explored much of the
galaxy. We have exalted in those
challenges and tamed worlds for our people to grow and expand.
It is the Romulan way not to back down from
hardships or challenges. This is the kind of
challenge many relish. Being my first such experience with
it, I cannot honestly tell you how I feel about it.
What I do know is that my people will put forth a way of
viewing the universe and not shrink from it. There is a
way of life that has proven successful, and it is
a way that will endure because of that single vision.
"Eloh has much to offer that vision. You are a
planet of warriors who have learned to stop squabbling
among yourselves and work together for the good of your world. That shows
a courage and sense of character which we find appealing.
"To commemorate this newfound friendship between our people,
I wish to leave you with more than words for future
contemplation. On behalf of the Romulan people, I
wish the parliament to accept a physical token of that
friendship." With that, Sela gestured to a
legionnaire by the far door. He stepped forward with
an ornate box, patterning itself in some ways after the
Elohsian mode of decoration. The colors even
matched that of Daithin's most favored golden
clothes. Good touches, Picard considered.
As the legionnaire placed the large container
by Daithin's feet, Sela proclaimed,
"We have brought from our homeworld to yours a selection of
our finest incenses. We burn them to help focus
our thoughts, allow the aroma to remind us that nature's
resources can be used to buoy the spirit and enable us
to achieve success. We wish for Eloh to achieve
such success and hope that you derive as much
satisfaction from this blend as we have over the
millennia."
Sela stepped back, a smug look of
satisfaction on her face. The Romulans
remained a tight group in the back of the room, but
knowing looks were exchanged.
Picard, who by now was standing alongside Riker and
Troi, was distressed. "Should we have brought something,
Counselor?" he whispered.
"There was no way to know this would be required of us,"
she answered. "I can't even begin to guess how this will
influence the parliament. After all, it's just burning
spices, not new weapons or ships."
"But," Riker added, "their gesture can be perceived
as the first of many such "gifts." The parliament may
not be above bribery."
"Agreed, Will," Picard whispered.
Daithin looked down at the box, smiling, and then
looked out among his people. They were chattering
among themselves, and so many voices prevented the
universal translators from picking up more than a
word or two at a time. No one could tell how this

girl was being received.
"Thank you, Commander Sela, thank you. Your
gift is a generous one and will be appreciated by our
people as much as is possible."
Sela stepped forward and asked, "What do you
mean?"
"I mean, thank you," he said more slowly. "You
see, well, you see, Commander, unlike the
extraordinary senses the Romulans possess, and
those of the Federation, the people of Eloh have a rather...
limited sense of smell. Only certain plants
and herbs from our own planet are noticeable to us.
Your incenses, sadly, are not. The thought behind the
gift, though, means much to me and the parliament. Your
gesture will not be forgotten." He waved his hands in a
dismissive gesture signaling, rather abruptly,
Picard thought, an end to the banquet. An odd
note to end on, he considered, and he wasn't sure
how this would play in the decision-making process to be
concluded in a few days.
Sela had stormed from the festive atmosphere
into the now empty main dining room.
Plactus and some of the party followed her, not caring that
their every motion was keenly noted by the Enterprise
officers. Grabbing Plactus roughly by an arm, she
demanded, "Why did you not inform me of this?"
"But Commander, we did not know!" Plactus
stepped back, away from the fury of his commander. She
stepped forward, keeping their conversation loud but
extremely intimate.
"Imbecile, you were supposed to know everything about
these people before tonight. We have been here longer than those
Federation fools, and they didn't make the blunder,
we did! If we lose this world, Plactus, it will
be your head I give to the praetor, not my Own.
And then your family shall know disgrace and lose their
rank, their home, and their place among the people. Not
many families can say they helped lose an entire
world. Pray this is not the case, Plactus. I will
not suffer a defeat at Picard's hands again!"
She swiftly moved away from him and her fellow
officers, making a straight line back into the
ultimate room and headed for the exit, and actually
pushed past a few Elohsians to get out. On her
way, she walked by Picard without a glance.
"A rather upset woman," Riker wryly noted.
"Wouldn't you be, Will?" Troi asked.
"Of course, but I didn't make the mistake.

Or in public."
"But we could have, Number One," Picard
interjected, all business. "We didn't know about
their sense of smell, either. What else might we not
know about them?"
"Good point, sir."
"Yes. Doctor, I want to see if we can't
get one of the Elohsians to submit to a thorough
physical. I'd like a better understanding of how they
work and what else we may need to know. Perhaps during
the tour tomorrow."
Crusher nodded affirmatively and gave her
captain a tight smile of sympathy. How
easily this could have been the Federation's blunder, she
realized.
Once the crew had reassembled outside the
large banquet complex, they took their usual
positions around Picard. He quietly tapped his
corem badge and merely said, "Picard
to Enterprise. Beam us up."
RIKER, being the conscientious first officer, knew
in advance the banquet would be a long night. He
made certain Data would take the evening shift
while arranging for himself to take first shift
on the bridge, allowing Captain Picard the
luxury of sleeping in or time alone to compose his
report to Starfleet. Since Riker wasn't due
to return to the planet for the duration of the voyage, he
knew he could force himself to remain alert earlier and
catch some, rest when circumstances allowed.
Despite the Romulan presence, Riker felt as
if this might actually be a quiet mission. He
certainly appreciated some action in his life, but
he didn't necessarily want the fate of a
planet altered just to satisfy his cravings. Instead,

he decided that a workout was in order as the shift
ended.
The first officer left a quick update on the
ship's log and then stood ramrod straight.
Squaring his shoulders, he took one last look at
the main viewscreen and its placid view of
Eloh. Nice-looking planet, he considered.
Maybe a shore leave here wouldn't be such a bad
idea. Then he strode briskly up the ramp that
led to the upper ring of the bridge. Lieutenant
Worf remained at the tactical station and barely
afforded Riker a glance.
"Shifts have changed smoothly, Lieutenant,"
Riker said. "I'm going to the holodeck
for a workout. You have the conn."
"Aye sir," Worf replied, logging the change
in command with a brief movement of his left fingers. As
Riker moved off toward the turbolift, Worf
turned around and added, "I have uploaded several new
Klingon training programs. May I suggest you
try Worf Tango Five?"
"A tango might do well, Worf," Riker
said, breaking into a big smile.
Worf let out a heavy sigh and returned his
gaze to the tactical station, avoiding any
deliberations on the concepts regarding human
humor.
The ride down to the holodecks was swift, and
Riker allowed himself the opportunity to consider
training programs and relaxation options. He might
try Worf's new workout, although the Klingon
programs tended to leave him stretched out a bit
much, so he'd have to follow the program with one that
involved a whirlpool or sauna. Maybe the
soothing vapors of an Argelian spice bath.
With his mind drifting a bit and stifling a yawn,
the first officer did not notice that the holodeck
doors were opening and a young man was emerging. They
collided with a dull thud, bringing Riker's
thoughts from the sensual pleasures of Argelius back
to the Enterprise at light speed. He steadied himself
and then the youth, quickly asking if he was all right.
"Yeah, I am," the young man replied. Riker
looked at him without recognition, which surprised
him, because he thought he had come to know everyone aboard the
ship, at least by sight if not by name.
"I don't believe I know you," he began.
"James Kelly, just signed aboard," the
jumpsuited teen replied. "You must be Commander
Riker. I've heard about you."
Riker smiled and let the holodeck doors
close without notice. "Have you, now?"
"Yes, sir," he said, letting a smile
cross his face. "My parents say they hear good
things about you and... well, I've heard from others."
"How long have you been aboard?"
"Just a few days, sir. My parents are

pretty happy to be here."
"And you?" Riker asked with genuine interest.
"I guess so," was the reply. "There certainly
are some very impressive people on this ship. It must be
great being part of the command crew." Kelly did not
seem at all nervous around the officer, Riker
thought, but was certainly distracted by something on
his mind. He then remembered his own advice
to Ensign Ro regarding consideration for the civilians
aboard the ship. Now was as good a time as any
to practice what he preached. "Sorry for banging
into you," he began again. "I had my mind on something
else entirely and didn't see where I was going."
"You too?"
Riker was intrigued by the tone in the voice, so he
gestured toward the just-closed holodeck. 'Would you
care to discuss it?"
Kelly hesitated for a few moments and then
nodded. "I guess it couldn't hurt."
"Computer, access program Worf Tango
Five and prepare to execute."
The rolodeck computer twittered electronically
for lO0 lol a moment and then replied,
"Program loaded and ready to run. Convert
to human norms?"
"Negative," Riker said with a smile. "Stand
by." He waited a moment for the doors to open and
turned toward Kelly. "This should be interesting," he
said.
As the doors opened, Riker was surprised to hear
birds chirping in the distance. Tendrils of purplish
smoke did not surprise him since most
of Worf's scenarios involved less than ideal
planetary conditions. The Klingon had once
explained that this kept him sharpest. Riker had then
countered that the security chief wouldn't know what to do
if a confrontation involved sunshine and clear
skies.
Continuing to gesture, Riker led Kelly into the
alien environment. Kelly stared in wide-eyed
disbelief and slowed down considerably.
"Our security chief, Lieutenant Worf,
programmed this himself. I don't recognize the
landscape--don't suppose you do, either. I
haven't tried this yet--and won't until we're
done talking. Now, then, James Kelly, what's
on your mind?"
"It's kind of foolish, sir, and certainly
nothing to trouble an officer about."
Riker smiled kindly and said, "I'm also a
human being, James. Forget the uniform for a moment
and let's hear this man-to-man."
"Oh, but, well, it's just so trivial, sir,"
Kelly began. "Maybe not. I can't seem to get
it off my mind." Kelly stared out at the lush
jungle setting. There were trees with thick branches
and vines; spotted here and there were burbling
holes in the ground from which the purple steam escaped.
While life forms could be heard, none could be seen,
but Kelly stared out, trying to find them.
"Let me guess," Riker prompted.
"Family problem?"
"No, sir."
"Troubles with your studies?"
"No, sir."
Riker thought for a moment and then snapped his fingers.
"It's a girl, right?"
"Sort of," Kelly said. "A woman,
actually."
Stroking his beard with his right hand, Riker grinned.
"Ah, I see, an older woman." He realized
he had to be careful here, not sure of how far to push
the youth and how far to remain a responsible adult.
"How much older, James?"
"I'm not sure, sir. Several years, I
think. Never mind."
"Come stretch with me," Riker coaxed. He
extended his left leg and began stretching out the
muscles. James fell into step, trying to match the
officer move for move. He was, however,
considerably shorter than Riker and certainly not as
broad or well conditioned, despite being
much younger.
"Older women can be tricky to deal with. I was
seventeen when a gift of twenty-four made a
play for me and I was in way over my head. I do
know, though, of several relationships that have worked quite
well with vast age differences. So let's see...
is she aboard the ship?"
James grunted as he switched to stretching his right
leg. "Yes, sir. She's really amazing, with the
most stunning eyes I've ever seen. There's so much
about her I don't know yet, but we've spent hours
talking and she's just incredible."
"Well, that a good start," he replied. "What
do you know about her?"
"Not much. Yet. We've only spoken twice
and we spent most of the time discussing the ship and how it
works. She knows so much his
"So, she's been here longer than you?"
"That's not hard, Commander. I think it's been a
year or so for her. I had trouble keeping up with her
energy and pace but I think she's worth it."
Riker began moving his body in a rhythmic
way, as if following some inner music Kelly could
not hear. "All this from two conversations, eh?" Riker
said as he continued his exercise. "Must be
one impressive young woman." The teen tried
to keep up and failed in the attempt. With his
peripheral vision, Riker watched and was silently
amused. At least the young man made the attempt,
which gave him high marks in Riker's mind. "We have
several options to work from. Let's see which one sounds
right to you."
Kelly nodded, grunted, and then began listening
intently.
Ro Laren could think of nothing more desirable than
fresh clothes and something warm to drink. The tall,
lithe woman nearly stumbled into her cabin after spending
the previous five hours repairing a
short-circuited workstation on the bridge. Just as
Ro was originally anticipating a night's peace,
she was summoned to the bridge by Data, who was duty
officer immediately after the Elohsian banquet.
The problem on the bridge required her
experience, especially since most of the night shift
crew were ensigns with little practical troubleshooting
experience. The problem was relatively minor but
intricate given the microcircuitry behind the wall
paneling by the science stations. As the last offricer
to complete any work on the station, Ro was the ideal
person to get back into the systems, find the
problem, repair it, and then test the new
circuits. Fortunately, no additional
irregularities were detected and an engineering crew
would report in during first shift and inspect the work.
The burned-out circuit boards and isolinear
chips would also be brought to engineering for inspection,
to better learn what caused the problem and how
to prevent similar trouble in the future.
With the starship in routine orbit, her work was
peaceful enough, although she could not shake the unease she
felt knowing that a Romulan warbird, albeit in
worn condition, was also circling Eloh. She had
put those thoughts behind her and replaced them with images
of her bed. Tapping the entrance pad to her cabin,
Ro stepped in, called for lights, and took a
step in before she saw it.
On her desk, which was usually immaculately
neat with what few things she kept atop it, sat a
canary yellow box with a crimson ribbon around it.
With two fast steps, she was at her desk and stabbed
at her computer console. "Computer," she snapped.
"Detail personnel in and out of this cabin during the
last six hours."
"Ensign Ro Laren and Ensign Marguerite
Nipar," the computer quickly replied in its
characteristic, mechanically female voice.
"Which department does Ensign Nipar report
to?" "Ship's stores." Ro was momentarily

confused since she had not ordered anything, but then she
realized the packaging implied a gift. Calming
herself, she wondered who might want to send her such a
thing. After all, this day did not correspond to any
Bajoran or Terran holiday, nor was it her
birthday--an occasion not usually celebrated
by Bajorans. Then a likely candidate sprung
to mind.
"James Kelly," she said aloud in a
surprised tone. She had suspected the young man was
more than casually interested in her, but for him to send her
a gift--this was trouble brewing. Worse yet,
unlike a burned-out circuit board, this was a
problem with which she had absolutely no experience.
Taking the hard-backed desk chair, Ro studied
the package and allowed herself to guess the contents.

After considering and dismissing a dozen
possibilities, she tore at the ribbon in
frustration. Inside was a perfect baker's dozen of
glazed fruit candies, each an iridescent
color, no two alike. Definitely a
romantic gesture, she concluded, but
wasn't sure how to respond. She gently lifted
a bright violet candy and, as she popped it into her
mouth, realized that there was nothing in the Starfleet
Officer Manual that could possibly cover this
situation.
The worst part was, the candy was good.
Dawn on Dos Dar was a thing of breathtaking
beauty. Sunlight filtered through a large bank of
clouds, coloring the skies in pastels of yellows
and oranges. Mountains seemed to skim along the
edges of the clouds and snowcapped peaks reflected the
colorful rise of the sun. A perfect day,
Geordi considered, as he studied the cloud formations
from aboard a small aircraft. Once again he was
accompanied by Counselor Troi and Ilena; this time
they were visiting the planeifs chief water
purification plant.
The night before had ended on an odd note, and he
reviewed those details as the landing party returned
to the planet for more tours and studies of the
civilization. Later, they would return the favor and
host a party of Elohsians aboard the
Enterprise. The consensus among the away team was that
the Romulans seemed to score a significant
point with their physical gift the night
before. Troi did what she could to downplay the meaning
of the gift as the officers walked toward their cabins,
but Picard was resolute that this cost him some
maneuvering room.
Geordi had argued that the gesture may have been
good but it was flawed, given that the incense was useless
to a people of limited natural senses. If anyone
understood that, it was La Forge, but the comments did not
improve the captain's humor.
Geordi's own humor did not seem much
improved from the previous day. Troi had tried
to stimulate him beyond moping about the encounter with Luth.
She did what she could to focus him on the current
agenda and put the past behind him. Instead, he spent
last night and now this morning brooding over the
Enterprise's role on Eloh. Was it right to tease
these people with the knowledge that so many better ways existed
to improve their war-torn world? were they any better
than the serpent offering Eve even a look at the
apple? Despite his years of Starfleet training,
his every fiber wanted to help the people get on with their
lives and discover the glory of space exploration for
themselves. Instead, La Forge had to remind himself of the
specific instructions given the crew by Picard.
Under most normal conditions the rule
wouldn't be necessary, but this was one way to prevent the
Enterprise and the Romulans from engaging in some form of
one-upsmanship that would only harm the in-prepared
populace of Eloh.
"Isn't it beautiful, Counselor?" Geordi
asked, as much to change the subject for himself as
to reconnect with Troi and Ilena. By then the craft
had begun to clear the mountains and head for the large
structure ahead.
"Yes," she replied, a hand resting against a
window, toying with a dark curl. She continued to stare out
the window, watching the scenery, a look of contentment
upon her face. "That's one thing I miss about being
aboard a starship--the natural beauty of a
sunrise or a sunset. Oh, I could program
them into the holodeck, but to wake up in the morning and
look out your window to see this... makes me want
to go on shore leave."
"I'm glad you're enjoying the view," Ilena
said from the copilot's seat. Today she wore a bright
tan and green outfit with yellow trim, and an
ornamental band of copper circled her head,
reflecting sunlight. "As a little girl, each
morning I would see the sunrise and for a moment forget
we were engaged in a terrible war." She had
met the landing party at the parliament building and
escorted them to a nearby airfield where the small
six-person craft was waiting. It was smooth and
shone in the twinkling starlight, an elegantly
designed vehicle. Some of its allure had been
ruined when the pilot, a former soldier named
Doral, said the craft was a modified fighter
aircraft.
They moved swiftly through the sky and Geordi had
chatted with Doral about the aircraft's
capabilities. During the hour-long flight,
Troi had similarly engaged Ilena about the
previous night's party. It was obvious to Geordi
that Troi was gently probing to see what the local
opinion was of the Romulan act. He recalled
Troi telling him that the one thing that was universal on
almost every planet the Enterprise had visited was
gossip. At first he chuckled over the concept, but
then he weighed that view against his own experiences and
realized, with some surprise, that she was dead right.
Gossip was a subject to which the chief engineer did
not usually give much importance, especially since
he spent his life as the subject of such whispered
comments, innuendoes, and speculations. At first it was
his blindness followed by the arrival of the
VISOR, and then his posting aboard the Enterprise,
and finally, once aboard the mighty starship, his hard
luck with women. Far too much time was spent idly
wondering about the habits of others, he concluded long
ago, and it was not something worth bothering about.
Geordi periodically listened to Troi's
conversation and got the impression that Ilena didn't
consider the gesture as damaging to the Federation as the
Enterprise officers did. On the other hand, he
thought, she seemed predisposed to like the Federation, so
her view may not have been the most prevalent one.
Geordi disliked being a pessimist and tried
to concentrate on the day ahead.
Once the vehicle landed, Geordi thanked
Doral for the conversation and then extended a helping hand
to let Troi gingerly step out of the craft. The two
followed Ilena as she walked them across the landing
strip to another sojourner, this one bright green. She
had warned the two that it would be another
fifteen-minute drive to the purification plant, but
she had hoped the visit would be worth the travel.
They traveled in companionable silence, studying the
'structure and shapes of the buildings, the clothing
worn on this continent, and the way people acted when they saw
their first aliens. Like everyone else seen so
far, the Elohsians wore simple, solidly
colored clothing, with many decorative touches.
Unlike Reg0r, the people on this continent had taken
to sporting oversized pockets, almost all them
bulging with something or another. They had hip pouches
attached by a belt as well, and those pouches had many
colorful patterns. Geordi thought the look was
comfortable as well as practical. As he understood
it, most of the people in this area worked solely on the
purification plant, and deep pockets meant a
convenient place for tools. Most citizens took
the presence of the Federation people in stride, maybe because
they had seen Romulans days before, or because after so
much warfare they had a high threshold for surprise.
Those who stared did so with smiles on their faces, so
Geordi thought he could relax.
Ilena drove the sojourner to the purification
plant with little problem, and she managed to chat the
entire way, explaining some of the background involved
in the importance of the plant. During the recently
concluded war, many lakes, rivers, and reservoirs
were contaminated by shrapnel, chemical by-products
of munitions plants, and far too many remains of the
dead. As a result, water was needed for the remote
areas and desalinization plants were also
required. However, it was decided just as the war ended
that too many precious resources were being wasted, so the
planet as a whole had to do as much recycling of raw
materials as possible. The purification plant about
to be visited not only recycled and freshened water
from a nearby river, but also had facilities to handle
major chemical products. It was an engineering
marvel, to hear Ilena boast about it. Geordi did
note that she made sure to add that the river here was
ruined by Populist chemical weapons and that it was a
Dar scientist who found the key method to reverse the
damage.
As the sojourner rounded one final corner,
Geordi got his first full look at the plant.
It was an immense, boxy structure, all in a
solid gray color with piping and steam valves,
using nearly every engineering trick he had studied when
at the Academy. The technology possessed by the
Elohsians was decades--if not two or three
centuries--behind the rest of space, and in moments
Geordi knew he could work on ways to improve
efficiency. There was a sense that the building had
started out with one configuration and had hastily been
amended over time. A great deal of pipe connected
smokestacks and buildings, as did
catwalks and scaffolding. Still, the sheer size of the
structure was impressive and the fact that it existed
to help people was reassuring.
Geordi let out a low whistle as they stepped from
the car, and Ilena beamed. "This is one of Eloh's
prides," she announced.
"I can see why," Geordi said. He had
automatically opened his tricorder and begun taking
sensor readings of the emissions. Mostly, this was
to confirm his guesses based on the amazing sensory
array he already had via his VISOR. Pleased with the
results, he folded the device shut and stuffed it
back into a pocket. "How many people maintain the
operation?" Ilena began walking backward,
concentrating on Geordi's answer, but her
unhesitating manner indicated she had been here many
times before and was familiar with the layout. "There are over
a hundred people working during any of four seven-hour
shifts. This facility is never closed, but we have
built-in redundancies that allow us to take
pieces off-line for inspection and maintenance."
"How old is this place?"
"I believe the main portion of the building was
constructed about sixty-five, seventy years ago.
However, as the war arrived and escalated, the
wise Dars living here saw the need for more capacity.
They began expanding the original site about
twenty-five years ago, and then after the era of
unity. began, Populists and Dars conceived of the
current incarnation before you."
Geordi nodded, taking in the scope of the work
done, and imagined that the control centers would be a
sight to behold. He picked up his pace, suddenly
eager to walk around the entire plant, looking in every
nook and cranny and possibly trying out some of the
controls. He caught himself and turned to check on
Troi, who returned a reassuring smile.
"Sorry, Counselor, but you may be in over your
head here." Geordi immediately caught himself, thinking
he had insulted the counselor about her height.
"Technically, that is," he apologized.
"Don't worry about it, Geordi," she
replied, seeming more amused than annoyed at
Geordi's embarrassment. "It's important
to see how things work around the planet. While you
concentrate on the sheer mechanics, I will have a chance
to watch the typical workers in action. We'll both
get something from the experience, I assure you."
Geordi smiled at Troi's encouragement and
quickened the pace. As they drew closer to the
plant, La Forge slowed down for a moment and began
sniffing the air. Troi noticed his action and
imitated him. "What is that, Geordi?"
"This plant may purify its water, but the stink
is pretty bad," he commented.
"Ilena, does the odor bother you?"
Ilena stopped leading, noticed the visitors were
several feet behind her and Geordi was making a pained
face. "What odor, Geordi?"
"Of course," Troi said, smiling. "Their
olfactory senses are less developed and they
can't smell the chemicals. This doesn't bother them
at all."
"No, it doesn't," Ilena said. "Do you think
you need a mask or something? I'm sure we can find
...."
"Don't worry about it," Troi said
reassuringly, despite instinctively wrinkling her
nose. "The smell just surprised us. If it
doesn't bother you, we won't let it bother us."
"Easy for you to say," Geordi whispered in
Troi's ear. "I'm probably going to be
climbing around equipment and getting real close to this
stuff."
Within another few minutes, the trio were
by the main entrance and were greeted by a safeguard
officer. La Forge noted that there were none at Carinth
Dar's computer headquarters, but here was a live,
uniformed soldier, complete with Elohsian rifle
and sheathed knife. Ilena flashed him a shiny piece
of plastic and the guard nodded in approval.
"We can't be too careful here. A few
decades back, during the war, there was a guerrilla
attack and we lost several lives and six
months" worth of work. Security has been tight
here ever since. While you could not possibly pass as
Elohsians, they had to be sure I was the proper
guide."
"How odd to suspect one's own but not
strangers," Troi noted.
"Not at all, Deanna. There's no way anyone
could pass themselves off as you, or you pass as one of us.
But I could be a disguised terrorist or a
psychotic and cause unimagined damage."
Troi nodded, but was still bothered by the idea. Once
inside the building, the engineer recognized the same
basic interior design as in the great banquet
hall. Fairly unremarkable architecture that was more
function than decoration. Nothing in the way of
local statuary or pictures on the
walls. There was a large screen that continued to run a
message warning people about color-coded areas to avoid.
Pictographs also showed people which areas controlled
water, chemical waste, and research and development
sections.
"You know, Ilena, I'll want to see all
three areas," Geordi commented. "I'd like to be
thorough."
Troi walked up beside the still-moving guide and
leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "I believe you
have candies on Eloh."
"Yes, of course. You tried some last night.
Are you hungry?"
"No," she laughed. "On Geordi's home
planet there's a phrase to describe the way
Geordi is acting." "Oh?"
"It's called being like a kid in a candy shop."
Ilena slowed her pace, stared at La Forge and
considered the counselor's words. A smile crept
across her face until she laughed out loud.
Geordi stopped, looked at both laughing women,
and frowned. This only made them laugh a bit more.
Troi, getting back to business, took Ilena's
arm and started her walking once again.
After an hour of inspecting the chemical
waste sight, Geordi had a stiff back, but was
impressed with the design and function of the facility.
He had taken extensive notes and readings with the
tricorder and spoken with each section's main
engineers throughout the plant. They proudly showed him
graphs and charts that indicated how much raw
material was recycled and reused during a given
year. Productivity was up for the seventh straight
year and there was no letup in sight. Geordi filed
that knowledge away and looked up, and his jaw simply
dropped.
"Oh, it's you," Luth said.
Geordi looked up at the conductor,
resplendent in his crimson outfit, this time without the
headband equipment. While Geordi obviously
registered surprise, Luth seemed less than
thrilled to see the chief engineer again.
"Good morning, Conductor," Troi interjected.
"I knew the Federation was due here today, but I should
have given it more thought and realized you would be the one sent.
Ready to tease me again with your technical
brilliance?"
La Forge was flustered, and it showed. He hated
himself for feeling so silly in front of the
administrator and he knew he had
to control those feelings immediately. "Just as you are
Eloh's technology expert, I'm the
Enterprise's. I've just spent the last hour
looking around, and I must say, this operation truly
impresses me."
Luth grunted but smiled a little. "I'11 be in
the main control room. If you're that fascinated,
stop by and see the real workings up close." With that he
turned on his heel and strode off. His body
language convinced Geordi he made no friend today.
"I don't know about your time on the starship, but
around now, most people take a break for a small meal,"
Ilena finally said. Geordi could tell she was trying
once again to soothe the tension in the air. "As I
understand matters, it's not like your big breakfasts but more
like a snack. Ever since the wars, we've always
preferred small meals throughout the day rather than big
ones. The banquet or a celebration is the
exception, making it all the more memorable. Are you
hungry?"
Geordi shook his head and stared further at the
unending stream of tricorder readings. Troi, though,
thought some food couldn't hurt. She had awoken
early on the Enterprise and had still felt full from the
previous night's meal. Therefore, she
skipped her morning meal and was only now finding herself
hungry.
Ilena smiled and said, "Fine. I'll take
Deanna to the canteen and you can keep working. We have
to leave in about two hours so you can be back aboard
your ship when Premier Daithin arrives."
"Yeah, I'd like to take more readings, but outside
this time. Do you think the guards will mind me wandering
around?"
"You've been given complete access by the
parliament itself, and they rarely seem to agree on
anything. That's a major victory for you,
Geordi, so by all means, enjoy your walk.
We'll meet up with you in the research labs in about
three-quarters of an hour."
Deanna gave Geordi a smile and a wave,
saying, "You can enjoy the fresh air. I want
something warm and tasty."
Ro popped another piece of the candy in her mouth
as she brooded over her situation. This time she was
seated in the Ten-Forward lounge because Ro had not
uncovered any answers in her own quarters. A
change of scenery, she had learned, could sometimes
change a point of view. She barely noticed the
savory strawberry flavor, and she chewed
it thoroughly. Ro had also managed not to notice the
approaching figure of her friend, Guinan.
"A little early in the day for you, isn't it?" The
gentle, friendly voice always soothed Ro's fiery
temper and made her instantly relax. Ro knew
little about Guinan's background and less about her
friend's current situation. The Bajoran knew
Guinan volunteered to serve aboard the
Enterprise, since she and Captain Picard shared
a bond that was a mystery to all. Like Ro, Guinan
and her people suffered grave harm--almost wiped out as a
race by the soulless Borg. Guinan always seemed
unruffled by the various comings and goings of alien
races, many new even to the long-lived hostess.
"Just something to drink," Ro replied, then noticed
that Guinan had already placed a tall glass of
fruit juice before her. "Uh, thank you."
As expected, Guinan took a seat opposite
her and just watched the goings-on.
"I suppose you're waiting for me to pour my
heart out to you, right?" Ro asked with an annoyed
smirk.
Guinan smiled sympathetically. "Is your heart
full?"
Ro rolled her eyes and tried to get
angry, but Guinan continued to sit and look
beatific.
"I received a box of candy this morning."
"That's nice. You probably don't get that
often," Guinan observed.
"That's true. And you know why? Because I'm not
romantically involved at this time."
"Someone's obviously trying to change that. Do you
know who it is?"
"Yes, and that's the problem. He's a teenager."
"I didn't know you liked your men younger,"
Guinan quipped.
"I don't! I mean, I don't like them at
all... I mean, he's just a kid and I'm
probably the first non-human he's seen close
up or something. I don't know. I'm just supposed
to be a guide to him and his family, help them
adjust to life aboard the ship..."
"Nice idea," Guinan interrupted. "Yours?"
"Of course not. Riker thinks it'll teach me
something." Ro took another drink from her glass,
finishing it.
,And what have you learned?"
"Commander Riker knows how to get me into trouble."
She attempted to take another drink,

noticed it was empty, and fairly slammed the
glass back onto the table. Guinan ignored the
action, remaining perfectly composed.
"Are you sure you didn't bring this on yourself?."
Ro gave her friend an annoyed glare. "Quite
sure, Guinan. The boy seems to think the
universe of me and I've done nothing to lead him
on. In fact, I've tried to discourage his interest
and keep things professional."
"He may think you're playing hard to get. What
does he know about you, anyway?"
"Not much. I've tried to keep me out of the
conversations."
"A woman of mystery. Some men like that, you know.
I once had a suitor on Risa that tried for
weeks to find out even my name. Handsome. For a
Tellarite."
Ro grimaced at the image of a pig-snouted
Tellarite making nice to Guinan. "He's not a
man, barely beyond being a boy. How do I discourage
him without failing at my task?"
Guinan folded her hands before her, leaning
slightly over the table. "Have you considered being honest
with him? Let him down gently with the truth?"
Ro considered the words and then tried
to imagine the conversation. She had images of James
Kelly not getting the message, Ro getting
exasperated, and finally putting the boy out an
airlock.
That might not be the best course of action at this
point.
Geordi had turned away from the departing women and
begun moving toward a clearly color-coded exit
door about a hundred yards down a right-hand, bright
blue corridor. While he was making his initial
notes, he found his mind wandering toward food after
all. Too late now, he considered, and concentrated
instead on the building itself. The engineer noted
coolly that beyond the signage and chromatics, the
building's insides were unremarkable,
unimpressive, and clearly uniform, right down to the
noxious odor. He had already grown accustomed to it,
but was thankful he'd be here only a little while
longer. Since the structure was built mostly
during a war, he was sure that little thought was given
to making the place esthetically pleasing, or as
efficient as possible. He nodded to various workers as
he passed them. Most used a hand gesture or
smiled in return, but no one spoke to him. La
Forge was used to this reaction when visiting
new worlds. Despite having the same basic
humanoid appearance--two arms, two legs, one
head--there was enough different between the two races to make
the Elohsians a bit cautious around him. The
VISOR certainly didn't make life any
easier for him since it worked like a beacon, making him
an unwanted focal point of curiosity.
Geordi carefully noted the tricorder readings
as he walked up to and then through the door. Measuring for
air purity, he was checking how the filtration
systems functioned and if the workers were truly safe.
Walking with small, measured steps, La Forge
altered the bandwidths for the next set of readings and
concentrated almost exclusively on the palm-held
device. As a result, on more than one occasion,
he nearly walked into low-hung pipes or jutting
corners where an old part of the original building had
been affixed to a newer one. Geordi did pause
at this and take new readings, studying how carefully
the two pieces fit and whether anything could escape
from the seams. Within seconds he was pleased that the
construction seemed airtight.
Finally, Geordi stopped, pocketed his
tricorder, and looked up toward the sky. He
decided not to totally ignore the nice,
pleasant late morning but instead, relish it.
Troi had a point, he admitted to himself, it's a
nice change of pace to have nature itself greet you
with the kiss of a warm breeze and see natural
sunlight brighten the sky. He stretched out his back
a bit and twisted and turned in every direction,
loosening up.
Without warning, though, there was a rumbling sound and then
a flash of light from a far corner of the mammoth
building. The shaking was violent enough to knock La
Forge off his feet and send him smack onto the hard
cement ground. Kneeling, Geordi immediately tried
to look for some clue as to what was happening. Then he
heard a loud explosion, felt the ground beneath his
feet churn again, and watched with growing horror as
pieces of the building were vomited toward the sky,
belching flame and gases in a curling plume.
He could hear the screams and cries of workers from
nearby, around the corner. Geordi hurriedly
slapped his comm badge and called, "La Forge
to Troi?
Instantly, he heard, "Troi here, Geordi.
What's going on?"
"I'm trying to figure that out! Are you and Ilena
okay?" He had already whipped open his
tricorder and began jogging toward the front of the
structure, which continued to vibrate and make groaning
noises. "We're a little shaken but fine. Where are
you?"
"Just coming around the side of the building toward the main
entrance. Does Ilena know what happened?"
"No, but I can sense from the workers that this is new
to them, too. They're on the verge of panic."
"Okay, then we have work to do. I'll see what
I can do to help the engineers. You contact the
captain. La Forge out."
Geordi began to run full out, rushing to get
to an entrance and find Luth, their chief engineer. People
were scattering and pouring out of the building, some coughing and
others helping a few who seemed to have suffered injury
or smoke inhalation. He scanned for Luth's
body signature and realized that like a true
engineer, he was likely to be inside the building,
trying to contain the destruction. Working his way through the people
and smoke, Geordi was soon inside the building.
The light panels continued to function but the smoke
created a hazy look to the corridors. The floor
was slick with moisture and at first he didn't want
to look down; but he finally did and noted water
mixed with Elohsian blood was plentiful.
Ignoring that with his VISOR, Geordi threaded his
way around people and, stepping over debris of unknown
origin, came closer to the main control room. He
feared for what he would find inside.
Once at the doorway, he could hear a voice
shouting orders, reassuring him that someone was taking
charge. As he entered the room, he saw Luth
hunched over a control panel while two other
women scrambled to fix wiring that fell from a jagged
open panel. With his tricorder, Geordi tried

to estimate the damage and danger to the people, but it was
hard to tell. The room was small and would feel
cramped once he went in further, but it could not be
helped. At least it would be quieter than the
hysteria still ringing through the halls.
"La Forge, we need help!" Luth called out
between coughs.
"What's the situation?" No question about it, La
Forge. was going to help, regulations be damned.
Human life will always take precedence and he could
face any consequences latermif there was a later.
Geordi hurried over to the man and noted the sweat
that streamed freely from his hairless brow.
"There was an explosion in the main processing
core that has ripped apart the very center of this
building. Our internal sensor devices are down
and I've got everything off-line. I can't tell where
the injured and dead are. More important, I can't
tell the extent of our damage. If we can't
contain the chemicals, we'll pollute the air and
water for this entire continent!"
La Forge nodded, whipping open his tricorder.
"Give me a schematic of the plant to work from and
I'll try and figure out what's going on. Do you
have backup systems at all?"
The older man snorted a little and gestured toward
two coughing women working through the smoke to get some
bulky computer equipment running. "Yes. That's just
what my aides are doing, but it's going to take time
to reaccess the power supply and the computer mainframe.
I don't have time."
Geordi nodded, enjoying the familiar sensation and

adrenaline rush. Finally he was going to do something
productive and prove to Luth he knew what he
was doing. Locking the tricorder on a display
screen, he scanned in the building's schematic and
then left the room, following the map that led toward the
center of the disaster. Along the way, La Forge
continually stopped to help people in need.
First, he helped four people out from behind a
jammed, blackened doorway and directed them
to safety. Another couple were stuck behind a
doorway that had been blocked by falling debris.
It took several minutes of prying with a long, heavy
tool to free them. His muscles ached, and he was
getting exhausted by the heat, stench, and tension. He
next found one person with an arm pinned back by a
fallen tool container. The effort took more of a toll
on him, but at least this was an easier rescue.
That proved to be fortunate because the final effort was
a fifteen-minute attempt to help a women get
out from under canisters that were filled with cleaning than
Geordi had to slow his efforts and take some cleansing
breaths before continuing. While the Elohsian sense of
smell was almost nonexistent, Geordi's nostrils
burned with the odor of disinfectants and cleansers.
Worse, it took the engineer several moments
initially to detect the buzzing sound of live wires
loose somewhere nearby. While the woman moaned from
her injuries, La Forge had to stop his initial
rescue attempts first to locate the danger. His
VISOR danced with flickering light shifts,

indicating the location of the problem like a beacon. But
getting there was not going to be easy. First, La Forge
had to climb atop some of the spilled
canisters surrounding the woman and carefully edge his
way toward the sparking wires protruding just inches from
a destroyed wall. Once he got closer, the
Enterprise officer had to find something insulated
to reach out and cap the sparking, exposed wires.
By training, La Forge had a healthy respect for
fire and naked electricity, but he also had a
personal relationship with the element. At age five,
he was trapped in a massive fire just before he
received his "new eyes," and it scared him silly for
years. He always suspected that his decision to get
into the technical side of Starfleet had something to do
with a desire to learn how to control such destructive
energies.
On more than a few missions, he was exposed
to phaser blasts, explosions--both natural and
man-made--and many fires. And each time he
encountered the heat or saw the flames, he always
paused for a moment, looking at the scene through the eyes
of a terrified youngster. Now an adult, he always
took a deep breath and did whatever was required.
These days he had come to take a pride in being able
to handle himself during a crisis and not be frozen in
needing to be rescued by his A sudden flash of
inspiration hit La Forge, and he gingerly
turned around and examined the two nearest canisters.
If they were really cleaning supplies, then there might
be rubber gloves to protect the hands. The first one
turned out to be all liquids and solvents but the
second had two very large rubber gloves attached
to a hook on the inside of the lid. Slipping them
on, La Forge was now able to shimmy his way toward the
wires and, using some rudimentary tricks he first
learned at his dad's side, managed to close off
the exposed wires, seal them, and even push them
back inside the wall.
He took off the gloves and wiped his brow.
While his rescue attempts were useful, they
delayed him from getting toward the scene of the problem.
Already winded, he worried about having the stamina
to finish the job, assuming there was anything he could do.
Pushing the thoughts aside, Geordi moved on,
waving his tricorder before him like a flashlight and
constantly sampling the air, seeking clues as to the
magnitude of the conflagration.
Finally, he left connecting corridors--and dead
bodies--and emerged into a giant-size cavern of a
room. There were flames traveling across pipes, which
crisscrossed the now-blackened ceiling, where there was
any ceiling left standing. White, gray,
and black smoke poured from the now twisted machinery,
and Geordi grimaced as he noted the limp
bodies along ladders, railways, and cross
beams.
The engineer was not alone, though. He spotted
five people scurrying about with oversize tools, and work
was proceeding on damage control. His tricorder
continued to whir and click, scanning the scene and trying
to gauge the depth of the problems. Geordi's body
tensed as he read the numbers on the small screen.
Another power surge was building from equipment which
lined the curved wall directly opposite him, and
he screamed a warning to the repair crews.
As the words left his mouth, the surge peaked and

another explosion let loose with devastating
effect. La Forge was lifted off his feet and
slammed back against a tool cabinet. More smoke
obscured even his SOR'S ability to scan the
scene properly. His ears, though, registered the
screams of more injured Elohsians. As he
scrambled to his feet, the engineer winced a little,
realizing he had injured his left knee and right
ankle. The initial thought was to summon Dr.
Crusher and an emergency medical crew, but he
didn't want to risk more lives until the
situation was contained.
With each step wearing him down, La Forge worked his
way over and around fresh debris toward the nearest
Elohsian. The man was trying to crawl toward a
computer bank, ignoring the bone protruding through his
shoulder. "Gotta stop... the storage tanks from
rupturing... gotta reroute..."
Without another word the man passed out from his pain and
La Forge turned away and studied the man's
objective. It was most obviously a master
control panel with a computer interface that regulated
the treatment chemicals from their storage tanks to the
treatment center itself. Without control, the pressure
could build and rupture the entire delivery
system. Worse, La Forge recalled from Luth,
the danger of contamination was high. He figured that at
the very least the continent of Dos Dar was threatened.
Reaching a toggle switch, La Forge tried
to access the intercom system but saw sparks instead.
The internal wiring was shot, which might mean control
of the stream was useless. His tricorder confirmed the
grim news, and the engineer looked up. The pipes
carrying the purifying agents were all overhead, leading
from the master tanks into this room. There was no question that the
only way to prevent the problem from occurring
was to climb up and manually turn off or redirect
each flow from the five master pipes. At least two
of the normal catwalks were twisted beyond use and an
additional ladder was littered with Elohsian
bodies.
Before taking another step, La Forge stopped
to inventory his condition. He had cuts and scrapes
on his hands, which meant he'd need the gloves he
carried to prevent infection from any of the chemicals.
He felt a few pulled muscles around his shoulder
blades, and the constant headache from his VISOR was
worse than usual. The injured knee was stiffening but
the ankle seemed better than he first thought. were he
on the Enterprise, he would direct another
qualified engineer to handle the repairs, but there was
no one else around, so La Forge got what he
wished for: direct involvement with Eloh.
As he began climbing up toward the first main
pipe, he tapped his communicator. "La Forge
to Troi. What's your status?"
"Ilena and I are helping organize the
evacuation, Geordi. Your signal is distorted,
where are you?"
"Inside the core, helping Luth figure out
what went wrong. I'm going to have to manually
shut down the chemical pipelines--all five of
them."
"You sound uncertain of the job," Troi commented.
La Forge could imagine her concerned expression and it
gave him momentary comfort.
"Yeah, well, I'm a bit more banged up than
I'd like, but there's no one else around here and Luth
is worried about feedback or contamination of Dos
Dar's water." Geordi edged further up the
core, noting the sounds above.
"I've alerted the captain. He and Data are
with Premier Daithin and they have agreed to postpone
all additional plans for the day until this is sorted
out. Daithin suspects a terrorist."
"So does Luth. I guess the unity may have a
few cracks in it after all. I'll check back with
you soon. Ou."
Five minutes later Geordi was a step away
from the pipe. It was about half his size, dull
brown, and rather wide. He could hear the chemicals
rushing through the metal and wondered about the pressure
inside. Rather than dwell on imaginary disasters, he
shook his mind clear and began inching toward the manual
releases. They seemed to be well-maintained
knobs, dials, and wheels, all of which
displayed the pictographs he had seen used throughout
the building. That gave him a fighting chance of not
making a fatal mistake, and he smiled.
The wheels yielded with the high-pitched sound of
metal grinding against metal, and Geordi's
muscles cried in protest, but he managed to get
the first pipe shut down and secured. Not bad, he
thought. I may pull this off yet.
Pipes two and three weren't too difficult
to get to and were also fairly easy to access and control.
The constant crawling, climbing, and twisting gave
Geordi's muscles new things to complain about, and the
engineer realized he was going to be in sorry shape
when this was over.
Looking over from pipe three, La Forge
realized getting to the penultimate pipe was going
to be the most difficult. He had no visible way
of crossing over and the main controls seemed to be
obscured by pieces of the ceiling. Worse, now that
he was closer, Geordi noticed the rubble atop the
pipe was gleaming with a reddish hue. Uh-oh, he
thought. There must be a crack in the pipe and a
chemical was leaking.
First he had to cross over. He looked around for a
rope or something he could use to attach to the
pipe he was standing on. With nothing in sight, he
turned his attention to the walls around him. Tucked
off to one side was a collapsible ladder covered in
emergency markers. He realized these people had to be
prepared for disasters, considering it was a valuable
target during the civil wars. That meant he would have
a way to cross over and possibly stop the leak.
Gingerly, La Forge placed the extended ladder
between the two pipes, a span of about fifteen feet.
He tested to see how secure the hold between the
pipes would be and then placed one foot on the first
step. It held under his weight, and he let go the
breath he had been holding. With grim determination,
La Forge began crossing the gap between the pipes,
constantly scanning with his VISOR to check for hidden
dangers. About two-thirds of the way across, he
detected a problem and a fresh wave of sweat
broke out over his forehead.
The dripping chemical must have been some form of
acid because it had begun to eat away at the clamp
holding the ladder in place. La Forge quickly
calculated that the rate of erosion might be faster
than his ability to cross the final five feet.
He didn't want to risk any kind of a leap,
given how sore he felt and how high he
was from the hard cement flooring. Chancing it, he
decided to scramble across faster than before and hope the
stress wouldn't cause the ladder to collapse from under
him. Five feet became four; then, by the third
foot, he was feeling more confident. He could hear the
metal twisting but he figured he would make it.
After all, this was another typical scrape he had
gotten himself into, and somehow he managed to survive
them all--so far. Sooner or later he realized his
time would come, but deep down inside he knew it
wouldn't be today. Looking at the chemical residue,
he knew he was right: the erosion wasn't as great as
he had feared and he didn't stay to prevent the
drip from further damaging the ladder. Instead, he
concentrated on finding a way to shut off the flow through
this massive pipe before the spillage caused greater
problems.
It took a hard five minutes of
muscle-straining effort, but he managed to shut the
pipe and he heard the flow of chemicals slow to a
stop. There was no finer sound, he decided. After that,
the final pipe was a breeze, and within twenty
minutes La Forge was safely back on the ground,
secure in knowing the disaster had been diverted for the
moment. There was much more work to be done, but the
repair crews could take over.
By the time he was ready to return to the control
room, the bone-weary, sweat-drenched engineer found a
working intercom and reported his findings so Luth could
properly direct repair crews.
Sticky with sweat and smelling of chemical
smoke, La Forge walked back into the control
room. By then, five more workers had returned to their
post and things were humming. A ventilation fan had
kicked back on-line and the room was cleaner-smelling
and brighter. Luth was hunched over the command board,
though, and seemed displeased by what he saw.
"Fine work, La Forge," Luth grunted. "I
guess your Federation is as good as you say. You've
saved an awful lot of people today."
"What's the next step, Luth?" He chose
to ignore the praise and concentrate on the more immediate
problems. For a brief moment, though, he did feel
really good about making a contribution. Geordi stood
behind the large man and watched the shifting screen and
charts. Power fluctuations had stopped and the water
pressure had been evened off. He was also pleased
to see an atmospheric diagnostic show that it was
safer to breathe throughout the entire complex.
"We check the records and sensors,
La Forge. Ever since the war, we Dars have been very
security-minded. We know where the explosion
occurred, and in a few minutes a security and
engineering detail will go to the blast point and
investigate for clues. I'm punching up the various
readings from just before the explosion. I hope we find
something because if we don't I'll be angry and no
one will be there to feel it."
Instinctively, Geordi stepped back, sensing
the seething emotions from the conductor. He watched
silently, once again the observer, and took interest
in the crisis management being displayed. This was a
side of Elohsian life he never expected or
wished to see on display. Still, he admitted, the people
were good and efficient. They moved with authority and
knew their tasks, so talk was kept strictly to the
facts. Only Luth allowed himself the luxury of
speaking off-the-cuff and, at that, only with the
Starfleet officer.
"Ah ha. Finally I'm getting some readings. This
could be telling," Luth muttered as he slowed the
scroll of information and then isolated some specific
facts. He leaned even closer to the screen now and
practically pressed his nose to the surface.
Suddenly, he leaned back, eyed La

Forge, and turned his attention to a secondary screen
to his left. Geordi couldn't tell what was on the
screen but it seemed to confirm Luth's
suspicions. The conductor turned toward
Geordi, his dark features comprising the ultimate
poker face.
"You see, La Forge, our sensors take
bioscans every thirty seconds in every room and
corridor, plus outside on the compound grounds.
Every employee here has his life signs on computer
file, which we use to check for infection, disease, or
even chemical imbalance. It also helps track
down who may be missing during a crisis such as this.
We've used these scans already to identify the dead you
found.
"We've also just narrowed down the readings of the only
person near the blast point within an hour of the
explosion." Luth turned slowly in the chair and
looked directly at La Forge. "And the readings
are not Elohsian. I believe they're human."
Geordi felt his mouth drop before anything else
happened. "Could that possibly be right, Luth? I have
been the only human--ever--to visit the plant,
right?"
"Right. And that makes you, sad to say,
our chief suspect. I've already alerted the
safeguard chief to join us. Please stay in here a
bit longer."
"Of course, Luth, I'll cooperate with any
investigation you have. Let me just notify Counselor
Troi."
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't touch
anything on your person right now. Just in case."
La Forge nodded glumly. He knew he
didn't plant a bomb, but how to explain this to the
war-weary populace? Standing still, he watched how the
others in the room, who all heard Luth's
pronouncement, kept their distance. It meant moving
around him or avoiding being within three feet of him, and
they shrank away.
After a few minutes, the tallest Elohsian
Geordi had yet to meet walked into the room. He
dwarfed even the more average-size Elohsians and
filled the control center. The broad-shouldered mass
suddenly made the Enterprise's chief engineer
feel very small. He was dressed in a dark green
and had a bright silver insignia that seemed to be his
badge of office. The man also wore a thick
belt with a variety of armaments on display, leaving
no doubt that he was responsible for
maintaining the order here.
"Mr. La Forge, I am Lan Kris, chief
safeguard officer at this facility. It seems we
have a problem."
Now that's an understatement, Geordi thought. "I
agree, but I will do whatever you feel is necessary
to properly investigate this matter. But I would like
to contact my captain and inform him of the situation."
"That's rather polite of you, sir. I had expected
you to invoke diplomatic immunity, something we were
warned of before you arrived. This will make the investigation
work more smoothly. I will insist, of course, that you
remain here until the situation has been thoroughly
investigated. Our chief magistrate has already
set aside court time tomorrow, should it come to that. Now you
may contact your captain, and then we will escort you
to a comfortable room."
All business and no nonsense with this man,
Geordi realized. He swallowed, nodded, and
touched his comm badge. "La Forge to Captain
Picard." In a few seconds he got a
response. "Captain, there's been a bit of
trouble here."
"Yes, Counselor Troi told me about it.
What's the current situation?"
"Sticky, sir. Their security tapes
indicate only a human was near the blast site,
and guess who's the on, is human here?"
Do you require assistance, Mr. La Forge?"
asked the captain, his filtered voice growing deep
with concern.
"Not at the moment. I have agreed to stay behind and
wait for the outcome of their investigation. I'm sure
I'll be all right. I just won't be able to help out
on the tour this afternoon."
"Forget that, Geordi, we've put plans on
hold while this mess is being sorted out. Make
sure you can call us if you need any help. I would
appreciate it if the authorities there can
provide Premier Daithin and myself with a copy of the
complete security records."
Geordi looked over at Lan Kris, who
stared back at him. Finally, after a few lingering
moments, he said, "We will do that if Premier
Daithin asks."
There was a pause and then a new voice sounded
over Geordi's badge. "This is Premier
Daithin. I think it will be in everyone's interests if
we can see the information gleaned to date. Yes, I
believe that will be helpful indeed."
"It shall be done," intoned the officer. Geordi
gave him a thankful smile that was greeted with a
stony face.
Lan Kris stepped toward La Forge and held
out a hand. "I would appreciate holding on to your
communications device and recording machine."
Geordi looked down at the tricorder and slowly
pulled it from his pocket. He handed it and the comm
badge up to the Elohsian officer. Kris studied
the items in his hand and then looked inquisitively
at the VISOR.
"He needs that to see, Lan Kris," Luth said
in a most sympathetic tone. Geordi smiled at
the conductor and remained standing still, hands clasped before
him, unsure of how to act. Probably with as little
movement as possible, he concluded.
"I will advise Ilena and your companion that you will
not be rejoining them. I will have an officer take you to the
waiting area. I'm sure this investigation will not take
long." With that, Lan Kris walked out of the room,
pausing to lean forward so as not to bump his head on the
doorway.
"I am not pleased with this at all, at all,"
Daithin said. Standing by him were Picard and Data,
both of whom remained still and silent. They

had offered to help and to follow all Elohsian
protocols, which made Daithin feel a little more in
control. Things had been proceeding quite well up
until this moment. A day earlier, Commander Sela and
Subcommander Plactus were in this very office,
discussing all manner of military support and
protection the Romulan Empire could afford
Eloh. Tapes they brought of their military might
were most impressive to Daithin, who watched alone
with Larkin. He kept imagining how these weapons would
have turned the tide of the war had the Dars, or more
happily, the Populists, had access to such
firepower.
Today, Captain Picard and Lieutenant Commander
Data made a similar presentation. Daithin was
interested to note that while the Romulan counterparts
emphasized weaponry and ship size, the Federation
representatives discussed peacekeeping measures.
During their time together, Daithin grew more comfortable
talking with Data, realizing he was more than a walking
computer system. He displayed in his own way a
personality, and one that Daithin couldn't help but like.
"Has the Federation ever experienced a civil war,
Captain?" Larkin asked from his quiet place in the
back of the room.
Picard seemed startled by the idea behind the question and
emphatically replied, "No, sir. I won't
lie to you and say things have been harmonious since the
Federation was founded over a century ago. Planets
have bickered and some have even left the Federation over
policy matters, but no, we've never gone to war with
one another."
"Then you have no idea what it is like to fight your
friends?"
"No, sir. But my home planet, Earth,
certainly had its share of nation-state civil wars
until worldwide unity was achieved. Some were the
fiercest fought and bloodiest battles in our
history, so I understand it intellectually."
Daithin pondered the answers and realized that his
frame of reference and Picard's were rather different. The
human was certainly an eloquent speaker, as he
noted the night before, but Picard seemed not to have a
warrior's soul. Such a spirit motivated the
Elohsian people and had formed their being for countless
centuries. The Federation offered him a chance
to evolve that soul from one of war to one of construction and
prosperity. While he could not change his own
nature, he could create an environment so that a
generation or three down the line would find a
new breed of Elohsian. He liked the idea of
being such an architect and appreciated much of what the
Federation had to offer.
The meeting, however, was marred when word arrived of the
explosion on Dos Dax. It brought back bitter
memofides of similar attacks and how narrowly he
himself had avoided being killed during such
skirmishes. He especially disliked the fact that it
would alter or perhaps ruin his plans for the future of his
world. Would the representatives of the two governments
want to leave? Was one responsible? Could one have
made it seem like the other was behind it? While the
Federation's words were pretty, Daithin's very nature
left him unsettled. How could any such
civilization be so high-minded? Questions and more questions
rattled through his mind, taking his attention away from the
guests patiently standing before him.
"I'm very sorry, very sorry indeed, Captain,"
Daithin said in a quiet voice. "We'll have
to reschedule everything once this works itself out, even if
it means some shorter sessions than planned. I do
appreciate the willingness of your officer to remain
behind until this is resolved. I'm sure we'll
contact you when we have some answers."
Picard obviously wanted to stay and
help, but he took a deep breath and said, "Very
well, Premier. We'll be returning to our ship
then." With that, he and Data left the building
to transport back to their ship. Daithin imagined
beaming to and fro, hurtling around his world in the blink of
an eye, and wondered how that might alter his
recently uhified society. So much to think about, so
much to ponder.
Larkin watched the men leave and then took a seat
by Daithin's elbow. "What do you make of them,
Daithin?" he asked.
"I like them, Larkin, I truly do. They are so
unlike us, though, I wonder how we could
coexist."
"Are the Romulans that much more like us?" Larkin
always probed, never letting a single answer be enough.
Mostly this stood him in good stead with Daithin, and
over the years the premier had come to trust him
completely and care for him more as a brother than an
assistant. Their talks were mutually satisfying
although at times, Larkin would probe deeper or not
let a subject drop to Daithin's liking.
"Maybe. Their weaponry is certainly
impressive, but it makes me wonder why this
Empire of theirs would willingly
negotiate to have us join them rather than simply conquer
us. They could, you know."
"I like their fighting spirit," Larkin offered.
"Yes, they are certainly like us in that regard. But
enough of that. Will this throw the schedule beyond repair?"
Larkin shook his head, to Daithin's pleasure.
After all, with the celebration coming, they could in afford
losing time with either government. Moving ahead, he
asked, "What do you make of the explosion?"
"Until the data arrive, I cannot even hazard
a guess. Certainly not something the humans would have
done."
Daithin looked deep into Larkin's eyes.
"Until the bomb went off, I never would have
considered that, either. Now I don't know."
Geordi was swiftly escorted to a small,
well-lit room. It must have been a conference room,
since it had a pentagonal table and five matching
purple chairs around it. On the pale gray
walls were monitor screens that could have been used
to assist the meetings. A small table was set by a
far corner, and on it was a pitcher and five small
glasses, also pentagonal. The security officer
allowed La Forge to indulge in some water for now.
Everything else would progress as time
allowed.
Seating himself at the conference table, Geordi was
left with his thoughts, not to mention stiffening muscles.
He was reminded of the old saying about being careful what
you wished for. La Forge had moped all along about
wanting to help, and he was given a chance to help but was
now suspected of being a terrorist. It brought a
bitter chuckle to his lips and he shook his head
slowly to try and clear his thoughts and sharpen his mind.
After all, until Picard could figure something out,
the engineer was on his own.
As he replayed the last hour in his mind, he
considered Lan Kris's comment that he had been warned
diplomatic immunity might be invoked.
Obviously this was some new concept on Eloh, and that
meant he was warned. BY WHOM? The parliament?
Larkin?
Who stood to gain the most from these events,
Geordi asked himself. The Romulans. Who would

know about the concept of protecting diplomatic
members? The Romulans. Who most likely
sabotaged the plant? The Romulans. But when and
which member of their team? Geordi felt his hands
grip themselves tighter and tighter as he realized how
hopeless his situation might be and began
to wonder idly about forms of punishment on this faraway
world.
PICARD SAT ALONE in his ready room,
reviewing the purification plant reports on his
desktop screen. Slowly he reviewed the sensor
scans that distinctly showed a human being near where the
bomb went off. His cup of tea had grown cold and
ignored as the captain concentrated on this new turn
of affairs. He considered that this would be a major
6bstacle in convincing the Elohsians that the
Federation was a good partner, a better one than the
Romulans. To date the Romulans had offered
presents and behaved themselves. No doubt this would
inlluence members of the parliament, who seemed
easily swayed. Picard had earlier' convinced himself
that these politicians were all relatively new
to their tasks, most of them having been soldiers of
some sort just a few short years previously.
Politics was a different kind of war to wage and not
everyone seemed equally equipped to handle the new
responsibilities.
Picard turned away from those meandering thoughts and
returned his attention to the report on the
explosive itself. It was a concussive bomb,
placed well enough to cause the maximum
amount of damage without totally destroying the plant.
He was pondering the implications of the location and the
importance of the plant when his door chimed.
He beckoned the caller to come in and was greeted
by Riker, Data, Troi, and Worf. All
looked solemn, concerned over the fate of their
colleague and the blow this dealt to their diplomatic
mission. With a gesture, Picard invited his
colleagues to take their seats. Worf and Data
chose to stand, and Picard snapped off the viewer and
turned his attention to his officers.
"Have you found anything that can help Geordi?"
Picard asked.
"Unfortunately, their sensors monitor the
complex rather thoroughly," Data noted. "Seventeen
minutes before the explosion, Geordi was by the key
juncture."
"Captain, have they determined the size of the bomb
required to cause that much destruction?" "Not yet,
Mr. Worf."
"Commander La Forge was carrying only his
tricorder; surely they will see that he could not have
carried anything resembling a bomb."
Picard gave his security chief a
tight-lipped smile. "A good point,
Lieutenant. But we must await their report and
see if we need to make such an argument."
"How is Daithin taking all this?" Troi
asked, crossing her legs.
"He's very concerned, Counselor. Both he and
Larkin seemed genuinely shocked by the news. It
seems that since the unity, there has not been a single
recorded act of terrorism. Therefore, he has
asked that both Romulan and Federation personnel
remain aboard their ships until this is sorted out."
"A wise move," Riker noted. "Do you think
this will cost us Eloh?"
"It's too early to tell, Number One.
We're awaiting a revised itinerary from Larkin, and
we'll see if that weakens our ability to present a
clear case. When we can prove Mr. La Forge
is innocent, then it fails to someone to find the true
culprit. When we learn who that is, then I can
better gauge how this will end."
"What if your culprit is not found?" Troi
voiced their worst fears.
"I can't say for certain, Counselor."
"Terrorists usually claim credit for their
wanton acts, Riker commented. Someone will surely
want to announce their identity and explain
why this was done. Of course, they may strike again."
"My fear exactly," Picard said. "Should it
happen while we and the Romulans remain here, then

we may be victims ourselves."
"And where were the Romulans during all this?"
Riker asked.
"A small party was on Hyanth, studying
wreckage caused by the last civil war," Picard
replied. He touched his cup lightly, remembered
the tea had cooled, and ignored it.
"The Romulans visited the purification plant
before we did, right?"
"Yes, Number One."
"Could they have planted the bomb before we even got
there?"
Picard leaned forward, considering his friend's words.
The Romulans were certainly not above such
duplicity, and they were on the planet before the
Enterprise even arrived in the solar system.
Motive and opportunity were certainly present.
Should matters come to a trial, he would have to request
a set of the bioscans from the day the Romulans paid
a visit.
"I think you may have a point, Number One.
Eloh's sensors, near as we can tell,
are not as fine-tuned as our own. Sela, being a
human-Romulan hybrid, or so she claims,
would be an anomalous reading to the Elohsians. After
all, Commander Sela could show up as a human and
may well be a suspect, as could almost any
non-Elohsian. I wonder where she was today?"
"She may have triggered the device from orbit,
choosing a time when our personnel were on the
planet," Worf stated.
"Sela certainly has a grudge against this ship
and her crew. She admitted as much to me last
night," Picard mused aloud. "We'll have
to increase our investigation to be prepared. Mr.
Worf, please find out exactly where Sela was
both today and the day the Romulans visited the
purification plant."
"Actually, Captain, I have another line of
reasoning."
"Well, Mr. Data, go ahead," Picard
said, unsure of what his second officer was thinking.
Slowly, Data began to pace the room, hands
behind his back. Picard instantly recognized the
mannerisms from previous encounters and inwardly
smiled at the realization that Data was in full
detective mode. "Since you have had me
thinking about crime fiction lately, I would like
to venture an opinion. We realize that Geordi
could not possibly have planted the bomb. Also, the
Romulans make too obvious a suspect.
Instead, I would contend there is a third
possibility as yet unidentified."
Picard nodded. "If you can find something, Mr.
Data, then by all means, look into it." The
captain got to his feet. "You have your
assignments, so let's get to it. Dismissed."
Riker took his place in the center seat, allowing
his captain time to prepare his report to Starfleet,
or rest. While he remained aboard the ship, his
captain was constantly going between the Enterprise and
Eloh, which consumed a lot of time; plus, there was the
tension generated by the events. The tall first officer
regarded the small world on the main viewer. Eloh
may have looked like a nice planet, but once again,
looks have been deceiving. While he enjoyed the
banquet and the people he met the other night, Riker had
come to realize that the people were fractious and quick-tempered.
They have bent over so far in favor of a tightly
structured world government that it meant they lived and
died by their rules. It barely masked the tensions still
evident according to the reports Data had already
filed. Whereas Picard may have been the patient
conciliator, Riker recognized that he usually could
not stomach such problems and would just as soon notify
Starfleet that the Elohsian people were not at all
mature enough to make this momentous decision distd.
Unfortunately, waiting was not his strong suit, and
he got up and began to walk the bridge. He
made himself seem busy by checking the progress at
each station, chatting up the secondary officers who
had arrived to start the day's second shift. It was
clear that word "of La Forge's situation had already
spread among the crew.
As he strolled by the conn and Ops, he leaned
over to watch Ensign Ro complete an orbital
survey. She looked up at him with an expression
that read all business. He tried to smile at her,
felt awkward, and just watched the telltales on her
board.
"Orbit is probably the most boring time for you,
isn't it?"
Ro looked up at him and replied, "I guess
so. But I must remain in case we're needed to do
something other than go in circles."
"Maddening, isn't it?" His grin grew wider and
his eyes twinkled. Straight-faced, she
replied, "I would have to agree." "Then this will make
dealing with the Kelly family all the more palatable,
right?"
Ro stiflened slightly at mention of the name, and
Riker noticed it. He asked, "Something going
wrong, Ensign?"
Quickly, she replied, "No, sir. The family
seems quite... nice. The parents are certainly
adapting quickly, and their son, James... seems
unusually interested in the ship's functions."
Riker paused a moment, mentally placing a comment
just made by Ro. James Kelly, he realized, was
the young man with whom he had spoken the other day.
Earlier he hadn't made the connection between the
love-struck teen and the family he had assigned
Ro as a lesson. Well, he realized, with only
a thousand people aboard such coincidences were bound to occur.
"I met the boy the other day. We worked out together
and he seemed interested in more than the ship."
Ro studied Riker's expression, opened her
mouth to make a comment, thought better of it, and
returned her attention to the operations panel before her.
"As you were, Ensign," Riker said idly, and
moved away toward the aft stations.
The next several hours moved slowly
for the bridge crew. Riker finally busied himself at
one of the aft terminals, working his way through secondary
scanner readings. Data conducted his work at the
Ops station, where a slightly amused Ensign Ro
watched his work from the conn. Throughout the time, Data
continued to work and would occasionally pass theories by Ro,
who was not a student of Earth detective fiction and
was unfamiliar with the android's forays as Sherlock
Holmes. Worf was poring through Elohsian
records as well as Enterprise sensor scans of
Romulan transporter activity.
"Commander," Worf rumbled after a long, silent
stretch of work. "Everything I have seen indicates that
Commander Sela was part of the landing party that visited the
purification plant. The visit was exactly two
days before our crew was taken to see it. Sela was also
said to be aboard the N'ventnar when the bomb went
off. Our sensors indicate that there was extensive
communications and transporter traffic at the
precise moment the bomb went off, so we cannot
isolate a signal that may have triggered the
device."
Riker had walked over to the tactical station
during the report and glanced down at Worf's
panels. He began stroking his beard
thoughtfully and considered the information. With a practiced
hand, he quickly reran the logs of Romulan
activity, trying to find a damning clue the
security chief may have missed. Frustrated after
two minutes of work, he commented, "If they are behind
this, then they masked their work really well. Thank you,
Worf." The Klingon grunted in frustration and
returned to his own work, reviewing all the information
a third time in the vain hope of uncovering something
useful.
Riker strode down the sloping walkway and
returned to the center seat, where he used the small
controls in the chair arm to switch from dry
Elohsian plains to the ship's sensor array. He
carefully scanned those screens, looking for something
anything--that might give him a direction in which
to look. The minutes ticked by slowly and he
prepared to return to his other studies when Data
caught his attention.
"Commander, I may have something of use," Data
said.
Riker sprang from his seat, walked over to the
forward station, and peered over his friend's shoulder. At
first he couldn't tell what Data had accessed, but
things began to make sense as the explanation
began.
"I have been doing a systematic sensor study
of the entire planet, matching it against our initial
scans. I was following a theory that if something
changed, we might be able to use that as a clue.
Since our orbit has not varied, the theory goes that
the scans should match exactly, taking into account
weather patterns, tides, and the like."
Riker wanted to grab Data by the shoulders and
demand he get to the point, but he recognized that
lengthy explanation was something Data seemed
to prefer, making sure he was not misunderstood. Just as
Captain Picard allowed Data such leeway,
Riker felt he must follow that example, no
matter how frustrating that might be.
"Some ten kilometers from the purification plant
on Dos Dar is an anomalous reading. In
fact, sir, it is shielded from our sensors, and that
does not match standard Elohsian technology as
far as we have studied it."
Riker leaned forward, almost brushing his beard against
Data's ear, and watched the parallel scans. The
readings, taken just two days ago, did not show any
such small structure. And now here was a strange
artifact, something definitely bearing
investigation. He patted Data reassuringly on
the shoulder and then quickly moved to the aft science station.
With practiced ease, he called up more detailed
sensor comparisons and determined the shielded space
was large enough to house at least two living beings and their
equipment. He called out, "Data, you've found
something really interesting. Something I think we're going
to have to pay a visit. Mr. Worf, please contact
Larkin at the parliamentary office."
Within minutes, Larkin had been found and was in
contact with the Enterprise. His expression was hard for the
first officer to read, but Riker suspected the aide was
annoyed by the intrusion in his daily affairs. This
exchange would call for top-notch diplomacy.
"Mr. Larkin, my apologies for interrupting you,
but we think we have found something and request permission
to beam down and study it."
Larkin seemed only vaguely interested by the
news. "What is it, Commander Riker?"
"We're not sure. It wasn't on our sensor
scans just two days ago, and it is now shielded.
It's also fairly close to the purification plant
and we'd like to take a look and see what we can
find."
"I will contact Lan Kris at the
plant, and his men can investigate this for you," Larkin
said dryly.
"I would appreciate it, sir, if we may
see this for ourselves. No offense, but our equipment
may be able to help."
"And I would rather we keep this an internal
matter," Larkin said diffidently.
Riker took a deep breath and tried to be as
authoritative, yet as cordial, as possible.
"Mr. Larkin, the fate of a member of this crew is
involved. I believe that gives us the right to be a
party to the investigation. We will, of course, abide
by your local laws, but you must admit we do have the
ability to scan for things you cannot."
Larkin sat silently, contemplating the request,
obviously trying to find a way around the situation, a
way that would leave Riker aboard the starship. Time
dispassed slowly and Riker tried to contain his
sharpening feelings of frustration.
The Elohsian folded his hands and took a deep

breath, measuring his words. "Very well, Commander
Riker, you may come and see this. Lan Kris will be
waiting for you at the plant. I should point out to you,
sir, that if this proves useless, and your man is
found guilty, the current law calls for
death by slow torture. Larkin out." The view
screen once again showed Eloh.
"Just lovely," Riker muttered. "In that
case, we're going to have to be convincing." The commander
began on his way to the turbolift, his voice
snapping commands. "Mr. Data, Mr. Worf,
you're with me. Ensign Ro, you have the conn." With
that, the three officers disappeared.
Geordi had just finished a small meal provided
by the tight-lipped Lan Kris. The food was nowhere
near as impressive as the banquet, but it did
wonders for his growling stomach. To the engineer, the
hours seemed to crawl by and his thoughts had not
coalesced into anything remotely resembling a
conclusion. He had totally abandoned the political
upheaval on Eloh and was mentally trying
to recalibrate the warp core --something to keep his
mind off his own troubles.
His thoughts were shatteredmand an imagined breach was now
imminent--when the door opened and Luth strolled in,
looking down at La Forge. The expression was the
displeased look Geordi had come to expect from the
conductor. Obviously Luth had remained busy
with the repairs, since his crimson robes were streaked
and stained. The foul odor from the fumes had
clung to him, and it made Geordi's nose
wrinkle.
"Are you being treated fairly?"
"Huh? Sure, Luth. I have no complaints."
The larger Elohsian took a seat and looked
at La Forge with a grave expression. "Although the
evidence points directly at you, let me
assure you that I know you are not the culprit. No
one would have set off such a device and then gone through as
much exertion to save the lives of others. You knew
what you were doing, and for that I thank you."
La Forge didn't know how to respond. Luth
certainly had changed from the experience, and a wave of
relief washed over him. Still, he was intimidated
by the man and felt he had not given his all at any
time they met. "How are the repairs coming?"
"Slow. We have the breaches sealed and have finished
pumping out the last of the sewage. Now we are working
on rewiring so we can be back on-line within a day
or two."
"Looks to me like you have some real good people to rely
on, Luth," La Forge offered.
"I agree. Still, your expertise would be nice
to have," Luth said. He patted the air with a hand and
added, "I know about your rules, and while
I don't like" that they can't help me in the
short-term, I do understand the larger implications. But
tell me, honestly, what do you think of our
technology?"
Geordi let out a deep breath and then launched
into some lengthy opinions, none of which violated the
Federation's rules. He was finally making a
constructive contribution and found himself enjoying a
talk with another engineer. Suddenly, time's crawl
quickened.
Riker looked up, and up, at Lan Kris.
The Elohsian did not seem to care one way or
another that Riker, Worf, and Data had come to join
him on the search. He did look at each officer
slowly, taking in the vast differences between human,
Klingon, and android. Riker's practiced eye
took Lan Kris's measure and he began
to imagine confronting him or one just like him in a
conflict. Another reason, he decided, that Eloh
should be part of the Federation.
The first officer appreciated the perfunctory
introduction although Kris did not even bother
to introduce the more heavily armed guards that flanked
him at the landing site. Instead, he gestured the
three officers toward a larger version of the
sojourner Geordi and Troi had enjoyed earlier that
day.
The ten-kilometer trip was totally silent.
Riker had tried to engage Kris in conversation at the
beginning but it was obvious the content wouldn't help the
investigation, so Kris remained silent. While
Worf usually preferred such silence, Riker liked
chatting people up, getting a better sense of who they were
and how they would react to a given situation. Riker
may not have been as patient a man as Picard, but
he was also a skilled card player and knew how
to wait someone out. Eventually he would learn about
Kris and be better able to adapt to the unfolding
circumstances.
Riker noted the sun beginning to drop behind the
mountains, recognizing that night would fall shortly
and their hopes of finding anything significant were
unlikely. He feared they would have to return in the
mo disming and Geordi would spend a night in prison
for a crime he did not commit. Within fifteen
minutes, the twisting route had led them to a fork in the
road. Data's tricorder indicated they should head
right, but on foot, since the structure was just a
hundred meters away and silence might be called
for. Kris nodded in agreement, and with hand
gestures signaled to his people to take prearranged
positions. Riker noticed with amused satisfaction
that Worf continued to watch Kris's every move, his
Klingon and Starfleet training meshing rather well for a
change.
The road was paved with some natural material, and
dirt, gravel, and weedy-looking bushes lined both
sides. They were near the main mountain range of the
continent and the terrain would get rockier and steeper
nearby--and more dangerous now that shadows were lengthening
by the minute. Kris took the point and had a
hand-weapon in his left hand. Data took a
position directly behind him, carrying his tricorder
but leaving his own phaser pocketed. Kris's men had
received silent instructions to take the right flank and
position themselves about twenty feet behind Kris and between
their leader and the ultimate goal. Riker decided
he and Worf should take positions on the left
flank, finishing the formation. The group began walking,
and as they did, Riker silently withdrew his phaser,
opting to be prepared. Out of the corner of his eye, he
noticed Worf had already done the same. While
Worf scanned the darkening terrain, Riker moved
alongside, almost in lockstep, toward their goal.
The meters narrowed and they topped a
small rise. Kris crouched as he took the top
and looked down. Data had silently shown him the
tricorder reading, indicating exactly where the
structure was: below them by about forty meters. Again,
Kris waved his hands and the security people moved out,
flanking the rise. Riker and Worf hung back a
bit more, just in case defensive screens were
involved. No one could hear a sound, so Kris
began moving over the rise and down toward their
objective. In a few moments, the duo were
directly behind the security officer and they got their
first glimpse of their goal: a flat, wide,
rust-colored building that seemed prefabricated and
held together with just a few efficient joints.
Definitely for quick assembly or an even quicker
getaway. No defen-rove screens or weapons
were visible, nor were there any markings on the walls.
What they did notice, though, was that the side door
was open--not an expected opportunity.
Worf looked around the vicinity and then noticed a
small figure getting smaller, almost hidden by the
rapidly approaching nightfall. He called out,
"A man, running away from here." With that, Kris and
Worf simultaneously broke into a dead run,
trying to catch up with the suspect. Without
hesitation, Riker began striding to catch up and
keep their quarry in sight. As he moved along,
Riker would occasionally lift and aim his phaser,
trying to get a bead on the figure, but the
fugitive was a good runner, zigging and zagging
to avoid such fire. Riker cursed himself for even
trying, noting that neither security man made the effort
since it cost them speed. Forcing himself to go even
faster, Riker could feel muscles and tendons
stretch. It had been a while since an away
mission forced him to such exertions.
Being taller, Iddan Kris moved ahead of the
Klingon early in the chase, but Worf made sure
that his counterpart wasn't leading by that much. Still behind,
Riker calculated that they had gained on the man,
human from what he could make out in the dimming light,
and they would be upon him soon enough. The figure wore
a light beige jumpsuit and seemed not to be armed.
All of their time observing the terrain proved
to help Riker when he noticed the man break to the
left, toward the mountains, jumping over rock
outcroppings and avoiding the worn terrain. Riker
had earlier noticed that there was a dip in the land in that
direction that would give him some added momentum.
Shouting Worf's name, Riker broke
left and felt himself gaining speed as he tried to gain
ground without stumbling on the graded terrain.
The man did indeed seem to get larger, and
Riker was satisfied that he was one step ahead of
Lan Kris--for a change. He heard rocks being
moved by booted feet and surmised Worf was right behind
him. Feeling confident from the knowledge, Riker pushed himself
even harder, trying to get to the man first. The distance was
rapidly diminishing from a hundred meters at the
beginning of the chase. Now it was a mere forty meters.
Then twenty.
The objective did not seem to notice the
approaching men but continued to run in a uniform
zigzag pattern, only varying how often he shifted
direction. Sooner or later, though, he would tire
and be caught. Riker was certain of this, and as if
to prove him right the man seemed suddenly to slow
down. He reached down toward a calf; must be a
cramp or pulled muscle, Riker speculated.
Whatever, now was his chance and somehow he found the energy
to go even faster. Ten yards became five, and the man
was slowing with each footstep.
With a final effort, Riker launched himself into the
air and tackled the large fugitive with a resounding
grunt. The two tangled on the ground,
kicking up dust, pebbles, and brush. Riker could
sense Worf's arrival but also knew the Klingon
would hang back, allowing Riker the glory of the
battle.
Such observations were banished from Riker's mind when
a loud crack sounded from their left and then the man
shuddered, fell, and lay still. Worf, Lan Kris,
and the others all fell to the ground, searching for cover
where there was none. Riker crouched behind the still form,
looked over his shoulder, and saw nothing but the mountain
range. No movement at all except for the fleeing
birds that were frightened away from their homes by the loud
sound. After a minute of silence, the people got to their
feet and moved toward the body.
"Dead," Kris said, the first word he had spoken
since they left the sojourner. Riker, sore from the
exertion, knew that already. Protruding from the man's
body were four arrowlike projectiles that had
pierced his torso, instantly killing him. Blood
slowly seeped from the wounds into the brush and dirt.
Kris knelt down, carefully examining the
projectiles while Worf pocketed his phaser and
removed his own tricorder. He used its recording
function to get a complete visual record of the
man, the surroundings, and the distance to the
mountains. Riker puffed, catching his breath and his
wits, and was perfectly content to allow Worf
to carry on the investigation. He watched as Worf
switched the tricorder to biological scanning and
took a medical report in case the authorities
refused Dr. Crusher the chance to study the deceased.
Worf was nothing if not complete and methodical in his
work as security chief, which pleased Riker.
"He's a human, isn't he, Worf?."
Lan Kris asked, moving closer to his counterpart.
"Yes. Not one of our crew."
Worf opened a small, transparent container from
his pocket and unscrewed the top. "Lan Kris,
I would like to take a blood sample for study on
our ship."
The tall Elohsian nodded and then roughly
pulled out one of the protruding devices. "Take
this, too. We call it an erewhan; it's used
by hunters today, but was the weapon of choice
by guerrilla warriors during the war."
"How were they fired?"
"Four erewhan are loaded onto a platform that
is steadied by the forearm, and the target is found with an
electronic scope that is designed to detect
biological functions. Quite effective
at night, as you can tell. A most efficient
weapon."
"Noisy, too," Riker said as he finally stood
and moved around the still body, careful not to get blood
on his boots. The surrounding dirt was already turning
a muddy brown from the growing pool.
"The erewhan are fired from compressed gases
loaded in the chamber," Lan Kfis added.
"Very effective," Worf commented absently, and
continued his studies with the tricotder.
Lan Kris remained silent for a moment,
considering the night sky and then the mountains. "Can your
recording device find people in the mountains?"
Riker, having finally started to breath slower,
tapped his comm badge. "Riker to Enterprise.
Lieutenant D'Sora, please concentrate
sensor sweeps on the mountain range within a
ten-kilometer distance from my position."
"One moment, Commander," came the electronic
reply. Everyone waited quietly as the
Enterprise complied with the order. Finally, she
signaled back to say, "We have detected three
life-forms, Elohsian we believe, moving quickly
away from your position."
"Can we follow them in the sojourner?"
Riker asked .kris.
"There are no roads in the mountains, just dirt
trails worn down over the years. If they're
moving quickly then they are using some smaller ground
vehicle and using night for their cover. Rilen,
once we return, requisition compatible
vehicles equipped with night scopes, and go
investigate the mountains."
"Yes, sir," the guard said. Riker noted it was
the first time he had heard one of the guards speak. He
wondered for a moment if this was normal for Elohsian
security or the people were intimidated by Lan Kris's
demeanor.
Once Worf completed his scans, Kris
directed his people to drag the body back to the building
where Data was continuing to study the contents. He stood
in the doorway as the group returned, his tricorder
closed and put away.
"Well, Mr. Data," Riker asked as they
got close enough to speak without yelling across distance.
"This man was, I believe, a mercenary,
Commander. All the equipment here employs stealth
technology that would enable him to enter most
non-Starfleet constructs and bypass security
channels. The equipment is illegal in
the Federation but easily obtained through black market
channels or pirate races such as the Orions
or Cardassians."
"Any evidence of the bomb?" Worf asked.
"No," he replied. "The man left behind very
few incriminating items. He had Elohsian
clothing in a small satchel and enough food to stay here,
hidden, for two more days. Another bag contained what
I believe to be precious metals native
to Eloh. He appeared to be under surveillance;
otherwise he would not have been killed so quickly after we
arrived. This was a premeditated operation."
"Lan Kris, I think this will convince you and the
premier that we are dealing with something far larger than
sabotage on the part of Commander La Forge,"
Riker said authoritatively.
"Commander Riker, I will relay this information back
to the parliament. Under the circumstances, I would
imagine your Commander La Forge will be free
to leave."
"Then we accomplished what we came for,"
Riker said. "I hope this restores our good
reputation before the Elohsian government."
"That's not for me to say," Lan Kris commented.
Riker watched Kris and the guards secure
the building, ignoring Data's offer to provide
copies of his recordings. The group moved back
to the sojourner, still dragging the man's body behind them.
While it was good that Geordi La Forge was to be
freed and declared innocent of the bombing, it rankled the
Enterprise officers to learn that this incident had
uncovered a new layer of concern regarding this world.
New questions were raised, and this posed new threats to the
crew. Riker wondered, as they rode back to the
purification plant, whether Eloh's strategic
location was worth the trouble.
RIKER DID NOT LIKE RED TAPE.
While it was common for most worlds to have their own version
of bureaucracy, it nonetheless consistently annoyed the
first officer. He suffered the small-minded
administrators not at all well and usually found
himself deferring to Deanna Troi or Captain
Picard in getting past the latest roadblock. This
time, though, he was determined to see this particular one
through without getting angry. Riker decided it was not
inappropriate to expect Lan Kris to release
La Forge as soon as the group returned to the
purification plant. Instead, the tall security
officer launched into (what was for Kris) a long
explanation of the legalities involved so the
engineer would not be released anytime soon.
Returning to the Enterprise, Riker immediately
contacted Larkin to ask for an expedited release.
Instead of cooperating, Larkin agreed that Lan
Kris had quoted the proper administrative
chapter and verse. He would, though, try and have the man
released as soon as possible, possibly late tonight
--tomorrow night at the latest. Riker thanked the man
through gritted teeth, and cut off the communication.
Exhaling to release the tension he felt, Riker then
left the bridge for the captain's ready room
to make a full report.
As expected, Picard was already poring over both
Worf's and Data's tricorder readings. The
captain remained calm behind his desk and worked through the
documents for another minute before Riker captured his
attention.
"I see they have done a thorough job of finding
everyone employment," Riker quipped.
Picard merely looked up at his first officer.
"You don't like the Elohsians, do you, Will?"
"I have spent far too little time with them to determine
my exact feelings, sir, but you can keep the
bureaucrats."
"Indeed."
"Sir, you've been down repeatedly: what do you
think of them?"
"Number One, they are a people who have suffered a
great deal and are determined to do everything possible as
quickly as possible to grow. They may be trying too
hard."
"I agree, and from the reports, they're still liable
to lapse back into war. I don't think they're
Federation material," Riker concluded.
"Perhaps," Picard agreed. "However, it appears
that we have a new problem."
"Absolutely," Riker agreed.
"How did a human get here before us? I am
baffled by his presence."
"I'm more concerned about the mission he performed and the
secret he was killed to protect. Could the
Romulans have set this up?"
"No, I don't think so, Will," Picard
replied with a shake of his head. "This may involve
them, but they would sooner use a Romulan agent
than a human. They are convinced of their moral
superiority and would proudly execute this entirely
on their own."
Riker once again began stroking his beard, forcing
himself to put his own thoughts and feelings in
order. "Have you been in touch with Daithin since we
learned this?"
"No, Larkin continues to tell me Daithin is
meeting tonight with the parliament to discuss the latest
events. That is one session I would like to witness."

"What do we do next?"
Picard was silent for a few moments, evidently
gathering his own thoughts, separating them from his personal
feelings, ever the commander. "Someone is out to sabotage
the negotiations. The agendas are already disrupted and
Daithin has yet to resume normal plans. We
will not have time to go past the fourth day, and the pressure
on all of us appears to be mounting. Neither we nor
the Romulans are expected back on the planet
through today. I suppose we'll know more when the
parliament has its recess. I have Worf and
Data working on new theories and contingency plans.
Dr. Crusher has also begun to review the sensor
information and is examining the blood sample. Until
we know what they reveal, we will sit and wait.
Geordi will be freed soon enough, I imagine.
At least he is no longer in danger of local
law."
"A good thing, too," Riker added. "The penalty
for sabotage is slow torture, a
leftover law from their civil war. The war may have
ended some years ago, but I don't think their legal
system reflects that in the slightest."
Picard leaned forward. "Now that is interesting,
W. They have made a big show of their unity and how
they are now cooperating freely with one another.
Yet, there remains prejudicial tension in
parliament and you now report their laws are harsher
than necessary during peacetime. The Federation has yet
to accept a world that does not have a stable, unified world
government. I get the feeling the Dars and the
Populists are still at war, but now with words, not
bombs. This world may not yet be ready for any
intergalactic alliance."
"Would you rather they join the Romulan Empire?"
The captain's face scowled. "Of course not.
However, I do not know if this world is mature enough
to make the decision for themselves. The wars of division
may be too recent, and I believe they need more time
to heal and learn to truly function together. I would
hazard to say they might need at least another
generation of peace before they clearly know their own
destiny."
Riker considered the captain's words, measuring them
against his own observations despite having
logged less time among the Elohsians. "And yet
you've told me some of the people have felt unity on
Eloh was a stepping stone for bigger battles. This
time on a galactic scope."
"Correct. It may be bluster or ambition.
I can't put my finger on it, and that concerns me. I
remain increasingly convinced this world's problems are not
yet over. I've already begun drafting a report
to Starfleet, and these concerns figure prominently.
First, I have to notify them of the latest turn of
events."
"Sir," Riker began, "I can only imagine
what you're putting in your report, but I must
stress that from what I can tell, this world is a powder
keg. If they choose us it may only delay
igniting the fuse. If they choose the Romulans
the fuse gets lit for them. Either way, this world needs
a lot of help and Daithin alone may not be up
to it."
Picard looked up at his first officer and gave
him a tight smile. "I agree, but this world asked
us here and we must do what we can to convince them not
to allow their prejudices to bring the world to ruin. We
can offer them the help they need, but I can't say it so
baldly. Be that as it may, you need some
rest, Number One. Go get yourself a few hours'
worth and I'll call if something new is
revealed."
Riker stood, smiling for the first time in hours.
"Those are the kind of orders I really like, sir."
The first otticer stopped quickly into his cabin
to clean up and put on a fresh uniform, and went
straight to Ten-Forward hoping to catch a friendly face
and maybe get his mind off the problems a few thousand
kilometers below him. Once inside, he felt
himself instantly relaxing. The cool color tones and
plush decor always gave people the sensation that they were far
from the starship. No Starfleet or Federation
symbols were exhibited. This could be a gathering
place on any of dozens of worlds, and that was
exactly how Guinan treated the place. This was her
world, not Picard's or Starfleet's, and she was
determined to make people feel wanted.
Riker strode over to the bar where Ben, the
gregarious bartender, greeted him with a smile.
Ordering himself a hot Tellurian fizz, Riker
surveyed the room, searching for companionship. At
first he was disappointed; while he knew just about
everyone in the room by sight, no one was particularly
close to him.
Then Riker spied someone off in the corner, as far
from the door as he could get. Now, here was something
to get his mind off Eloh.
"Hello, James, may I join you?"
James Kelly looked up in astonishment as
Riker grabbed the seat opposite him and settled
in. Riker's drink, in a very wide, tall
glass, allowed a fair amount of steam to escape.
The aroma from the glass was sour and Kelly's nose
immediately wrinkled when he first noticed it.
"Hello, Commander." Kelly seemed to get over
his shock quickly, and gradually accepted that the second
most important officer of the Enterprise had chosen
to sit with him. "How are things below?"
Riker made a face at being reminded about
Eloh. He took a long sip from the drink,
savoring the taste before replying. "Not so good, not so
bad. A lot of new information to process from today's
visit, so we'll see what happens. So, how
did it go?"
"Go?"
"The "situation" we discussed the other day,"
Riker prompted, his eyes suddenly merry with
amusement.
"Oh, that." Kelly shrugged,
noncommittal. Riker watched, waiting for the teen
to continue. "I don't know if it worked. I received a
note on the net, thanking me for the gift and leaving it
at that. I don't think she liked it. And it
didn't open the door as you expected."
Riker frowned at having his own plan rejected
by this woman. He began considering alternatives,
ready to help this teen get the girl. It was the
romantic in him, he told himself. It was also one
way not to think about Eloh.
"There are many ways to develop a relationship,
James. You've had girlfriends before, right?"
"Sure. Four before we came to the Enterprise.
In fact, I had to end the last one once we found
out we got this posting. Boy, did that make Mom
happy. She thinks I'm too young for anything
serious, but I'm almost seventeen."
"She should be happy about being here," Riker said,
getting Kelly off the dear subject of the last
girlfriend. "We're a very choice assignment in the
fleet." Kelly did at least nod in
acknowledgment.
"If the gift approach hasn't softened her
up," Riker continued, "have you tried getting to spend
more time with her$9 Maybe a walk in the
arboretum. It's idyllic and can lead to some very
private, very heartfelt conversations. Or you can
program some activity on the holodeck. We have
amusements from plenty of worlds, including several
two-person games that could show you off. You have to spend
time with her, let her see that you're fun to be around.
And, James, you have to be yourself. You said you don't
know what she wants from a man, so don't be anything
other than you already are."
"I see," James said slowly, absorbing all
the new information. He seemed to remain amazed that
Riker was even talking with him. "It's never been this
hard before. Maybe I am too young for her. Maybe
this is just one big mistake."
"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," Riker
countered. Kelly looked hard at the senior
officer.
After another sip, Riker's face turned
serious and he added, "And you have to consider the
possibility this won't work out. For you. She may be
interested in other people or just past a relationship and not
looking for one right now. Or she's not ready to get
past the age difference, which you still don't know the extent
of. Can you handle rejection?"
"I think so... sir," the teen
answered, now staring out the window, watching the stars
lazily move by.
Riker could tell the youth hadn't considered outright
rejection as a real possibility before now. Better
he learn young, Riker considered.
The first officer took his time finishing his drink and
waited for the teen's mind to return to Ten-Forward.
Finally, James returned his attention to Riker.
With enough having been said about romance, Riker decided
to mix in a little business. "Has Ensign Ro been
providing you with enough information to make shipboard life
easier?"
The boy's eyes widened and he got rather
enthusiastic. "Oh yeah, I mean, yes. She's
been great. She had dinner with my parents last night
and gave them the ship tour they missed the first day.
She has been by at least twice a day to talk and
answer questions. My dad thinks this is a great
program. It's also made some of the other new
families jealous."
Jealous? Riker hadn't fully considered the
effect such singular personalized attention would have on
the other new families. While it sounded like Ro was
actually doing her job well, now Riker had
to consider ways to fix this latest wrinkle.
Ah well, he thought, it's always something. Perhaps he
and Troi could devise a more formal system for the others
and she could then take charge of it. But first, he had
to deal with Eloh. He sighed, realizing he couldn't
fully get his mind off the problems below.
"Picard to Riker," came a call over the comm
system.
Quickly, Riker tapped the badge. "Here,
sir." "We just received a signal from Larkin. Things
moved faster than anticipated and they are now ready
to release Geordi. Would you beam down and receive him
from the authorities?"
"Of course. I'll do it alone to minimize any
further entanglements."
"Agreed. When you both return, get some
sleep. I'd like a staff meeting at
oh-seven-hundred tomorrow to review all findings and
determine how best to be prepared."
Riker looked over at James, who grinned at
being part of the ship's business. He appreciated that
the youth did not pepper him with questions about how Geordi
got detained below. Maybe he was more mature than
Riker originally assessed and could handle whatever
happened. "Duty calls, James. Good luck."
"Thanks, Commander. Really. Your
advice is flawless."
"Flawless, huh? We'll see later." Riker
left the lounge and wondered how James's plans
would ultimately turn out. He hoped better than
this mission.
"I want to thank everyone for attending this session
despite the early hour," Picard began, trying
to signal that they had business to discuss, but it would be
done in as casual a manner as possible. Everyone
was assembled around the table and, for a change, they all
had cups or mugs before them. Most had coffee or
tea, although Worf had a Klingon cocktail that
made Beverly Crusher lean away from the fumes.
La Forge sat at the table, nursing a mug of
black coffee and looked tired but fine after his
prolonged stay on the planet. A plate of
pastries and fruit decorated the table's center,
furthering the relaxed atmosphere. Picard buttered
a croissant and then called the meeting to order.
"Doctor, your report please."
Crusher moved herself back to the table, keeping
distance from Worf's drink; he remained oblivious
to her obvious distaste. "The man died from the erewhan
bolts, that's undeniable. He's a human being, from
one of the Earth colonies, if not Earth
itself, from what my diagnostic readings say."
"Data, have you uncovered anything about his
identity?"
"Yes, Captain. Based on his DNA
sample taken from the blood Worf recovered,
Starfleet records have identified him as one
John Stormcloud, a convicted felon. He was a
mercenary, and Starfleet intelligence reports had
last recorded him working in the Onias sector."
Worf downed his drink and slammed his glass down
with a dull thud on the tabletop. "Onias is near
the Romulan border!"
"I recall, Mister Worf," Picard said.
"After all, we were there ourselves not that long ago.
Anything else, Mr. Data?"
"No sir. Stormcloud was a low-level
mercenary according to reports and was not particularly
noteworthy."
Picard took a sip of his coffee before continuing.
He wanted everyone to digest the new information and
consider how this might influence the next few days.
"Daithin has contacted me and said that the incident
does indicate a problem, but he is convinced that the
security measures now in effect will not spoil the
remainder of the visit. He has
authorized a resumption of the schedule, although we have
shortened a few events and revised the number of
officers either we or the Romulans will be allowed on
the planet at any given time. The revisions will
include the tour of this vessel at fourteen-hundred
hours."
"Captain, I must insist that all weapons be
left in the transporter room under guard," Worf
announced.
"A wise precaution, Mr. Worf. Make it
so," Picard replied. He didn't think the
issue of weapons was an important one aboard the
Enterprise, but it was a small victory for the
security officer, and sometimes those must suffice.
Picard imagined his Klingon friend would prefer the
Elohsians stayed on the planet. He might
even prefer if the starship left orbit and went
home tonight. However, a mission remained to be
completed, and everyone had to do his part to see to it the
assignment concluded peaceably.
"Who's coming to visit?" Crusher asked.
"Daithin, Larkin, of course, and a small number
of parliamentary members. As a favor to Geordi,
we're also bringing aboard Conductor Luth, their
chief computer man."
Geordi was of mixed feelings at the prospect
of discussing issues with Luth. During a crisis
he was able to help, but Luth probably still wanted more
technical knowledge than La Forge could offer. It would be
a cautious tour.
"We have canceled, though, the reception I was
planning for them. Now I have Guinan mad at me,"
Picard said with the trace of a smile. "She said she
spent two days blowing up balloons and I was an
ogre for spoiling her party."
Everyone around the time laughed at the concept, and
Troi beamed approval at Pieard. Once again
he was leavening the serious business at hand with a dose
of humor to remind everyone that they were in this together. Such
composure was important to Picard because he needed his
crew aware of the severity of the situation but not too
uptight, which might mar performance.
"What are the Romulans doing today?" Riker
asked between mouthfuls of apple.
"The schedule of events indicates that Commander
Sela and her team will be doing a full briefing on
Romulan affairs to the parliament," Picard
recalled from memory. After taking another sip from his
mug, Picard seemed to make a mental decision and
he turned toward his second officer.
"Mr. Data, I believe we can spare you from the
tour preparations. I would very much like to have you in the
visitors' gallery, observing the Romulan
presentation."
Data nodded affirmatively but then said, "We
could easily access the transcript from their computer
network. We can then see how the world perceives the
Romulans."
"Possible," Picard admitted thoughtfully.
"Still, I think it is better if we observe the
Romulans themselves. Daithin says that they appear
unruffled by these events. They're a suspicious
group and I think they expected something to mar the
week's events."
"Probably were wondering why it didn't happen
sooner," Geordi quipped.
"I want all departments prepared for the tour.
Counselor, I would appreciate it if you
prepare the itinerary and then alert each section as to the
plan. Let's conclude the tour with Ten-Forward so
Guinan can at least serve them a drink."
"A prudent move, Captain," Troi noted
with a grin. With that, the meeting began to break up and the
crew exited the lounge, taking their places on the
bridge. Troi had stifled a few
yawns throughout the meeting, but finally let out one large
sigh just as she took her seat. His
"A problem, Counselor?"
She smiled sheepishly and then gave the captain
her full attention. "I guess I didn't
sleep too well last night. You had me up
late reading."
Picard looked genuinely surprised.
"Me? How?"
"Your talk the other day about Poe got me
curious. I never read him as a child so I selected
a few short stories from the library. I just finished
'Ligea," and I guess it gave me the
creeps."
Picard smiled at the concept. "Certainly not
under my orders."
"No, but you certainly have a way of inspiring the
crew," Riker said with his characteristic smile as he
took his own seat. "I started reading some Poe
myself, although none of it scared me. I am now reading
through "The Unparalleled Adventure of One
Hans Pfaall"--thought it might be my kind of
tale."
"I don't know that one," Picard admitted.
"Kind of short but interesting stuff," his
colleague said. Then he looked ahead at the
viewscreen still depicting Eloh. "Just the kind of
adventure I wish this mission wasmshort."
"Our reach extends well throughout the charted
galaxy, and we offer member worlds the opportunity
to fully achieve their destiny by joining us in an
adventure unparalleled by your imagination." Commander
Sela's words floated throughout the quiet parliament
chamber. The room was packed with not only elected
members, but aides, officials from other areas, and a
few "friends" lucky enough to be squeezed into the small
space. As people riveted their attention on the coldly
attractive Romulan, Daithin
surreptitiously mopped his brow. Data, seated
as inconspicuously as possible in a rear row,
quickly made a scan of the room's air
temperature and quality. It did seem above
previous norms for the room, and he determined the
additional bodies plus an inadequate climate
control system were at fault.
For the last hour, Commander Sela had spoken without
prepared notes of any kind, describing the strength
and far reach of the Romulan Empire. She
briefly sketched their history, acknowledging their
forebears, the Vulcan race, which now
helped rule the Federation. Sela's descriptions
off handedly mentioned the United Federation of
Planets, and Data carefully noted she left the
usual venom out of her tone when discussing her rival
government. Without pause, she continued discussing her
people's technological breakthroughs and their many
achievements throughout the years, and the Romulans'
willingness to share these marvels with the Elohsian people.
If the planet truly prized unity, she argued,
then an alliance with the Romulan people would be in their best
interest.
Data had prepared himself to access Starfleet's
files on the Romulans instantly so he could
check the veracity of each claim and statement. Not
once had Sela made a boast that could not be backed
up with creditable information. The android did file
away certain "stretches" that might not stand up under
additional scrutiny, but they were minor issues. Her
case, he concluded, was strong and quite impressive.
A subroutine also ran that had Data comparing her
oratory skills with some of the most noteworthy
speakers in the Federation, including Surak of
Vulcan, Adolf Hitler of Earth, Kodos the
Executioner from Tarsus Four, and the recently
retired Stephaleh from Andor. Later he
would prepare an analysis which might prove
beneficial to Captain Picard when his turn
arrived.
Watching from the lower rows of the gallery were a small
handful of Romulans, only one of whom Data
recognized: Plactus. The older officer
grimly nodded in agreement as Sela punctuated
her points, approving her performance, more like a mentor
than a subordinate. Daithin admitted earlier,
when Data arrived, that he was comforted by the concept of
Romulan guards, led by the rather boisterous
Centurion Telorn, surrounding the building to add
an extra level of security given the preceding
day's troubles.
"Should we ally ourselves with you," Wain said from his
desk, "that would put us in proximity to the Federation.
Should you two come to a new war, what protections would
we receive?"
Sela smiled at Wain and waved her arm toward
the ceiling. "You've seen pictures of our vessel
and learned the specifications. Our warbirds
protect the border and would protect that new border
between our governments. Should there be another Federation
incursion into our space, we would repel that act with
our full might. Trust me when I say
that our desire for victory in such matters has
carried the day for centuries. Your world would be
safe."
Data was interested in watching the way Sela
became more animated and confident now that she was
answering direct issues. Her beating had changed,
and he added these observations to his subroutines.
"Why have we seen no other race but Romulan
among your crew, while we have seen a variety from the
Enterprise?" Wain pressed.
Sela smiled. "Our strength comes from our very
core, our center, so to speak. We have brought you the very
cream of Romulus with its long, rich history.
Warbirds and other vessels contain people from our other
worlds, but we wanted to introduce you to the Empire's
finest."
"How quickly could we gain your technology,
travel the stars?" This from Dona.
"I would imagine once we establish
facilities here and begin work on protecting the
planet and the new border, we could have Elohsians
serving aboard our ships within a year. Two at the
most."
This response brought a positive ripple of
reaction from the room, Data noted. After
all, he reasoned, they desperately want to be
part of that galactic eommumty. And fast. No question
that the people heard what they wanted. But Sela was not
forthcoming with details, and those were what Data
suspected Picard most wanted to hear.
"Would many Romulans come and live here?" "At
first there would be just advisors, teachers," Sela said
smoothly. "We'd of course like to have officials from
our government come and see their new member world. I
don't doubt that there would be quite a bit of activity
over the first year. This is a pleasing world and I'm
sure that some of our people would like to relocate here.
Does that pose a problem?"
The speaker was taken aback by the question, unsure how
to answer. "I guess not," was all she managed
to get out.
To Data, though, he recognized the pattern from
many historic Romulan campaigns. Many of the
worlds now under their subjugation first welcomed
advisors and teachers. The Romulans would then
explain they needed more support staff and
facilities, and a handful grew to an army, and the army
would then deem the planet unstable and additional
resources were called in. Before a decade could
pass, the planet was tucked tightly in the
Empire's fist.
Within twenty minutes, the morning session ended.
Sela and Plactus walked through the aisles, sharing

a word or two with the members, all smiles. They were
now privately giving reassurances, Data
knew, perhaps making some discreet deals or at the
least making plans for further confidential
discussions. Such was the way of politics, he had
learned after much interstellar study.
The Romulans were being escorted to the door
by Larkin while Daithin was surrounded by fellow
Populists from the parliament, all eager for his
opinion of the morning's session. Many asked hurried
questions, while others hung back just to listen, clearly
waiting for a judgment. People continued to mill about the
chamber, slowly starting to leave for lunch. Data had
left the gallery and edged closer to the Elohsians,
boosting his audio receptors to determine the mood
of the people. Instead of concentrating on the voices, he
heard something unidentifiable but clearly not
natural. Data increased the receptors again and
tried to isolate the noise.
Daithin gave some perfunctory answers to his
colleagues and then swiftly left to follow the
Romulans. As he, too, left the
building, Data noticed the small phalanx of
Romulans escorting @ddela and Plactus toward
the center of town. Larkin was behind them, waiting
impatiently for his leadefts arrival, so the
premier quickened his pace.
Data took note of the people watching the procession,
leaning out of windows and silently taking note of the
Romulans with their premier. No cheers or
calls; no signs of acceptance or protest. It
was a numbness that he had not previously absorbed and
he found it fascinating to watch. The streets were
unusually quiet for such a gathering, but maybe that was
just their way, he considered. He scanned ahead and
saw that the procession was heading toward Pater's
restaurant, possibly for refreshments and further
conversation. The town was like so many others he had
observed on dozens of other planets, although their
streets seemed a little more rigidly organized, with
exactly five buildings on each side comprising
a block. The grid style was practical, but he
considered that it lacked any real flair or
grandeur, something most capitals enjoyed. Data
hurried his pace to catch up with the party now crossing
the street, nearing the smiling Pater. Just as he
reached Larkin, hell arrived on Regor.
At the four corners, just a block before
Daithin's favorite luncheon restaurant,
fire simultaneously burst out with concussive
force. Buildings were instantly consumed with orange and
red flames, sending lunchtime strollers scurrying in
panic. Many fell to the ground and covered their heads
with their arms; others were on fire and rolled on the
street to save themselves. An alarm sounded in the
distance, and Data watched as the Romulan guards
closed ranks around the uninjured Sela and
Plactus; he could spy the two twinkle out of
existence.
Data was instantly moving, returning his hearing
to normal, using his own eyes to record information, and
whipping out his tricorder to ascertain additional
information about the explosions. The readings confirmed his
initial thoughts: the temperature of the fire was
currently over one hundred twenty degrees
Celsius, too hot to be natural. Fire was
spreading rapidly, and Data made a complete
circle, studying the patterns which appeared to be
nearly identical at all four points of origin.
Leaving the tricorder running with instructions, Data
sprang into action.
"Data to Enterprise. There's been an
incident in the capital city."
Almost instantly, Picard responded. "What
happened; Data?"
In what for Data were clipped sentences, the
android described the scene. While doing so, he
noted that the Romulan guards remained, weapons
out, merely watching panic envelop the populace.
Larkin, covered in bruises, pushed Daithin back
toward the parliament chamber with all his might,
nattering on about the end of the world.
"Render assistance as is prudent and then report
back. Picard out." Data was already running toward
the nearest building, watching people pour out of buildings
with large cannisters, vainly attempting to stem the
blaze with some chemical. The efforts appeared to slow
the inferno not one writ, and the flames moved with a
life of their own, engulfing other shops and buildings.
Soon, four full blocks were burning out of control
and panic ruled.
All evidence pointed to a chemical blaze, but
that would not give Data immediate information as to how to stop the
inferno. Instead, he deemed it more important
to move the people away from the burning structures. With his
above-human strength, Data managed to carry people
too weak to walk, away from the fire. His
ears were attuned to cries of help from within the
buildings, and he gave them rescue priority.
All of his programming was in full rescue mode,
preferring to let the tricorder continue to take
readings of the fire itself.
Again and again, Data would rush into a building,
returning to the outside with one or more people in his arms.
Smoke and debris turned his golden skin dark and
smeared with black. His uniform was now torn in
spots and burned through in others. Despite the
Elohsians' being taller and heavier than humans,
he adjusted his musculature to handle their bulk.
One time, he emerged from the building with a corpse in
his arms and an Elohsian child crying and hanging from
Data's neck. It had taken him nearly a
minute to free the child's arms from the dead parent and
convince him it would be safer outside.
From within the chamber, Daithin watched four one-man
aircraft swoop over the streets, spraying a
flame-retarding chemical over buildings as yet
untouched by the fire. Soon, uniformed safeguard
officers filled the streets, carrying backpacks
filled with retardants or medical equipment. People
were being quickly, but carefully, removed from the site of the
raging fires; ropes were hastily put up
to block public access. Large sojourners
arrived with more people and equipment. With a sigh of relief,
Daithin was pleased to see the prepared teams knew
their jobs and were moving as quickly as possible.
Maintaining a condition of readiness, after surviving by that
instinct during the war, had helped the people once again
during a disaster. There was no question this was another
terrorist attack, aimed at the Romulans and
showing little mercy. The Romulan warriors, he
noted, had backed away, watching from a distance and
offering no help. One seemed to receive a signal,
and the group took familiar positions and obviously
beamed back to the warbird.
Instead, he was clearly fascinated by the efforts
made by the android, Mr. Data. With no
hesitation, he continually walked into the flames and
emerged with Elohsians. There was nothing stopping him,
and Daithin began to lose count of the number of trips
the tireless android made. Now this was an example
of heroism, totally unlike the self-interested
Romulans. But even the android had moved out of
sight, and the premier wondered if he, too,
returned to the safe haven of orbit.
Daithin was left with no clue as to what might
happen next. He feared even
contemplating the future.
Data could not help but recall what happened when
the Crystalline Entity destroyed the colony that was
his first home. People panicked and buildings burned,
and the parallels were eerie. He made a mental
note to compare data entries at a later time. He
then ordered up a quick scan of other personal
memories that might be similar. Perhaps there was a
paper in this, a part of his mind wondered, while
another quickly analyzed that his work was done for the moment.
His thoughts were interrupted when his receptors
picked up the creaking sound of a building collapsing.
The fire had reached Pater's restaurant and the
entire top floor was beginning to buckle from the
stress. Data could not tell if anyone was in the
building, but he immediately concluded that if the building
fell, it would go in such a way as to cause other
structures to collapse. Further, he postulated
that if the fire remained unchecked, more buildings would

be reduced to piles of rocks, starting with the ones
nearest to what he gathered was a power conduit. He
recalled that the town drew its power from underground
lines that were supplied by a station outside of town.
However, these juncture boxes were where the power was
redistributed and controlled. If
Pater's restaurant caused the next building
to fall, the power box would be destroyed, causing
untold havoc and destruction.
Data's positronic brain ran through every shred of
information it had recorded on Eloh, trying to create
a plan of action. In the meantime, Data began
cautiously approaching the restaurant, trying
to determine if there was a point of entry available
to him. He almost did not notice the bulk of
Pater's corpse, half concealed by tables and
chairs, smoke curling up from several spots.
Data made a note to collect the corpse
later and to see to it that Pater was properly taken
care of. He had meant much to Daithin, and the premier
would want it that way. Meantime, he saw a way through
a shattered picture window on the right side of the
building. The fire had mostly burned itself out on the
inside; so intense was its heat that most everything was
consumed quickly. He made his way past the dining area
and toward the food preparation bay, which separated the
diners from the kitchen. Using his keen perception,
Data detected that support struts on this side
of the building were mostly burned through, weakening the
building's overall support. Pieces of wall
and ceiling fell apart and to the ground,
cracking in pieces as they impacted.
Looking about quickly, Data spied a pair of
metal racks that used to hold some decorations.
Useless now, they were grabbed by the Federation officer and
he quickly twisted them around and around until they were
joined together. Strengthened by Data's actions, the
metal pike was now used to add support to the wall
where he stood. The job was still not over, as he had
to check the other building and make sure it was no
longer in danger. Finally, he would have to check the power
supply and ascertain its integrity.
While walking between buildings, Data heard
something crumble and burn, and he looked up in time
to see a piece of masonry fall from the
restaurant . Holding his hands up, Data tried
to shatter the pieces further before they caused him
serious harm. His efforts were partially successful as the
large piece shattered, but the force of impact still
knocked him to his knees, ripping more holes through the
trousers. In time, Data was covered with stones, some
still smoking from the fire above.
It took him just a matter of moments to right himself,
but in that time he also realized his tricorder was crushed
beneath the rubble, losing valuable readings. He then
noted that the buildings were past any further
help he could render. They were going to collapse, and
now his priority had to become saving the power supply
from exploding.
Gathering himself up, Data pushed through the
detritus and moved beyond the wreckage to get at the
power supply station, a small, unassuming,
boxlike structure that was dark and totally
unobtrusive. At most, dishe figured that he had
four minutes with which to secure the structure or shut
off the power feed. Around him, Data heard the same
yelling and screaming as before, but the sounds of panic had
become calls to organize help. Large
sojourners had pulled close to the scene of the
conflagration and were applying high-powered sprays on the
surrounding buildings. Small aircraft were also
dropping powdered chemicals atop the buildings, which
seemed to work and retard the inferno's progress.
Reaching the structure, Data looked it over,
using his own sensory equipment to probe it since he
had no operating instructions. Much of his work would have
to be estimated, and he disliked that but had no choice.
He immediately felt the warming box, indicating that there
already were problems. A small fire of some sort was
already inside the structure, and that meant that the power
feedback he was concerned about was becoming a
reality. There was little choice left to him as he tore
a door off its hinges and proceeded to enter the dark,
dimly lit station. As elsewhere on the planet,
pictograms were used to illustrate instructions or
warnings. Data used those as a basis of analysis
and went straight to work, using the fire-suppression
equipment first, smothering the small flames.
With measured movements, Data rewired control
panels and rerouted controls, working as quickly as he
dared let himself before further power fluctuations caused
greater catastrophes. The time moved slowly and the
android did not allow his mind to work on anything more
than his surroundings. His concentration was total and he
realized that such an occasion had not presented itself in
several years.
Just as he completed rewiring one panel, he
replaced it and activated a switch that should reroute
the last of the area's power back out of the city to another
relay station. The telltale flashed from purple
to amber and the job seemed complete. Data turned
away to leave the building, when there was a soft whoosh
and a wall of flame erupted from behind the panel.
Data was moved back by the force, and the fire seemed
to separate him from the suppression equipment. There was
no choice but to abandon the building and let
it burn down. At least, he concluded as he left
the structure, the power remaining was minimal and the
damage was contained.
Minutes later, Data found his way back
toward the parliament and he looked about. The people were out in
force, working on containing the fire and lending aid to those
in need. He determined that he had done what was
required and it was time to return to the Enterprise.
OCCASIONALLY, when a starship maintained planetary
orbit for several days, the corm and Ops rotations
were shortened to relieve the tedium and more personnel were
assigned to these positions. On the one hand, it
allowed junior officers the opportunity to gain some
real experience behind the control stations, and on the other,
it allowed the regular complement of officers some time
off. The balance was an elegant one, as far as Ro
Laren was concerned. She enjoyed the extra free time
and had used it wisely this day. First, she had a
short but uneventful lunch with the entire Kelly
family. Ro took the opportunity to announce that
her time with the family was ending since the adjustment was
going well and she could do no more for them. The parents
took the news well and thanked her profusely for
her involvement. James Kelly looked
surprised and then unhappy at the news.
She had desperately hoped this would also be the end
to his infatuation.
After the meal, she did some extra work in the
gymnasium, practicing a new set of exercises
recommended by Dr. Crusher after her last
physical. They worked the muscles in a variety of
combinations, making her even more limber and better able
to adapt to changing needs on away missions. These were
taught to her, Crusher admitted, by Worf, and Ro
was amused by the idea that Crusher and her usual
exercise partner, Counselor Troi, found these
relaxing. Ro had sweated and grunted her way through
four repetitions of the exercise, two more than
recommended. After the incident on Eloh yesterday,
she wanted to be in top condition should she be asked
to accompany a party to the planet. The odds were
remote, but she could never anticipate when
Captain Picard would send her planetside as part
of her continuing "education," as he called it.
Clean and dry after her shower, Ro decided
to grab a drink in Ten-Forward before returning to her
quarters to do some reading. Data's discussions of
detective fiction had peaked her curiosity, and
she had already known of Picard's interest in the
subject. She had used the ship's
library to call up one of the more popular Dixon
Hill novels, Under the Sun, and only this morning
had begun reading it. She was determined not to have formed
an opinion of it after just one chapter and tried to keep
an open mind on the new subject.
Seated at the bar, she chatted amiably with
Guinan for a "few minutes, enjoying the cool
citrus drink and relaxed atmosphere in the room.
So much so that she didn't notice the young man's
approach until he was right next to her.
"Oh, James, hello," Ro managed to say
without emotion. She had truly hoped not to see him
again for at least a few weeks, but such was not her
luck. "Hi, Ensign," he said reluctantly.
"Would you like a drink?" Guinan asked
pleasantly.
She then ignored the cold stare Ro gave her.
She returned the expression with one of her own, which
said, "It's my bar so it's my rules."
"Sure, how about a milk shake?" he replied,
suddenly all smiles.
"Chocolate or vanilla?" Guinan inquired.
"Strawberry."
"Good choice. I'll be right back." And with that,
she left the two alone, which was not something
Ro wanted at all.
"Say, Ensign, I really didn't get a
chance to thank you like my folks did," James
began. "I really liked the way you put up with us
all, even with my questions during the tour. I'm also
sorry you didn't like my... present."
Ro was not sure how to approach the conversation,
uncertain of where it was leading. She decided to be
polite but noncommittal, perhaps putting him off and
making him leave her alone for good. "I did like it,
James. The candy was delicious and a type I had
not yet tried. It was just... unnecessary. I'm just doing
the job I was assigned."
"Yeah, I know." He looked away for a moment,
obviously wrestling with something on his mind. "But
since you were so nice to us, I wanted to find some way
to thank you. Guess I goofed, huh?"
"Not at all. It was... sweet of you."
Looking encouraged by the comment, Kelly appeared
to gain confidence and speed to his speech. "Sweet,
huh? I guess I was trying to be sweet in
return for your, ah... sweetness toward me and the
family. I mean, you seem all business and all,
but you also have a kind side and that's helped Dad a
bit. He can be shy and all, but you kept
him in the conversations and made sure he got out and
met some people.
You're pretty terrific." He then took a
deep breath, looking directly at her. "You know,
Counselor Troi announced today that there would be a
newcomers" get-acquainted dance on one of the
holodecks in about two days, right after we leave
Eloh."
Uh-oh, she thought. Ro chose to remain silent.
"I'm not sure if I've met anyone as interesting
you, and since you were kind enough to spend so much time with us,
I did want to return the favor. So, would the
prettiest girl on the ship care to accompany me
to the dance?"
Guinan returned with the strawberry shake before the
stunned Ro could utter a reply. She didn't know
what to do. Kelly seemed sure of himself, happy
with the prospect, and pleased he got the offer out into the
open. As she mentally stumbled through a variety of
responses, James silently sat sipping his
shake with Guinan nodding at him approvingly.
"You certainly have a way of flattering people," Ro
managed to get out. She had no idea what to do in this
situation. Telling the boy to go away was probably
not what Riker had in mind. But was going to the
dance? Ro would most certainly have to have a word with the first
officer when this matter on Eloh was settled. New
frontiers indeed, she thought ruefully.
"So, you want to come along?"
"James, I'm sorry but I don't think that
would be appropriate. I do thank you for the thought."
She prayed it would be dropped right here and now.
Forever.
Kelly's shoulders sagged and he let out his breath
in a long, loud sigh. She almost felt sorry for
him but wasn't going to let him drag her to a dance like
some prize. He looked over at his half-finished
shake and moved it across the bar, back toward
Guinan, who wisely kept quiet. James then
slid from his seat and walked across the room and through the
doors without another word.
"Prettiest girl on the ship, huh?"
Ro glared over toward Guinan, who just grinned that
enigmatic smile of hers.
It was no surprise for Worf to see Plactus
waiting in Larkin's office, but he was certainly
surprised to see Commander Sela standing beside the
subcommander, looking not at all pleased to be there.
Both ships were requested to beam down investigators
to use their more sophisticated equipment
to help determine. what had happened and who was
responsible. Worf was relieved to be part of the
away team, once again allowed to make a contribution
to the mission. He had suspected the Romulans of
treachery, and now he might finally get a chance
to prove it. On a table against the wall, next to the
various pieces of communications equipment from both
starships, were charred remains of some metallic
object as well as small plates topped with a
gelatinous residue.
The tall, broad Klingon could hear the continuing
noise right outside the building, with loudspeakers
commanding people to return to their homes and await
announcements over the computer networks. A heavy

odor of smoke and fire hung in the hazy air of the
small office, and it reminded the security officer
of many other atrocities he had witnessed over the
years.
"Seventy-two people dead," Larkin began in a
voice filled with anger. "I can't even count how
many are homeless or lost their businesses. We've
got scared people, my visiting friends, and I want them
calm. Use your tools, find out what you can, and then
tell me who did it." The order was most unlike
the usually soft-spoken Elohsian, but the
circumstances demanded it, Worf decided.
He immediately began scanning the pieces with his
tricorder while Plactus used an analogous
device. Time passed slowly as both tools did
their jobs. Sela and Larkin stood by, impatient
for some result to be announced.
Sela strolled over to Worf, looking him over
with cold determination, and let out a haughty laugh.
"Of course, send the underlings to investigate while the
captain remains safe and sound. No leadership,
no glory." To that, Worf growled low, determined
to remain civil. Romulan taunts carry no
honor, he recalled, and were not worthy of a
response.
"Well?" Larkin was definitely impatient and
seemed to expect the equipment to be waved over the
debris and have a culprit materialized before his
eyes.
"This is a familiar compound substance," Worf
began, cutting off Plactus by less than a
second. Worf grunted in satisfaction at being
first. "While we know of it, Starfleet does not
currently use it in any form. On the other hand,
I believe Plactus will agree that it is a more
commonly used Romulan substance."
Larkin looked sharply over at Plactus, who
seemed unperturbed by the accusation. Instead, he
consulted his device and spoke slowly. "I must
agree with the Starfleet officer. This is most
possibly a Romulan device. It is, as he
stated, a well-known compound to both governments, so
no blame need be placed at our feet."
"Plactus is right," the Klingon rumbled.
"However, I can call up computer records
indicating this exact method of attack has been
used by Romulans in several similar incidents
over the past two centuries."
"Can you now," Sela said mockingly. "What
makes you so certain that your Federation spy did not
plant these devices using the Romulan pattern
to frame my people?"
"The so-called spy is dead, and these incendiary
devices are volatile," Worf cut in. "They
cannot remain in place for more than thirty minutes before
detonation. It's a risky piece of business and the
sort of a trap that Romulans have been known to use.
Also, Larkin can attest that excepting Commander
Data, no Federation personnel have been on this
planet in nearly twenty-four hours."
"Lieutenant Worf is correct,"
Larkin agreed, continuing to eye Sela. "Can you
account for the fifteen Romulans that were on the planet
this morning?"
Sela glanced over to Plactus, who was tapping
instructions into his hand-held device. He looked
up and showed her the results. All eyes were on
her, and they saw her surprised reaction turn
to bitter anger. "How could this be, Subcommander?"
"We must investigate this further, Commander," was
all Plactus would say.
"It seems, Larkin, that Telorn, the
centurion responsible for the guards around the
parliament, has gone missing." Worf was a bit
surprised by the news that the taunting Romulan from the
other night might turn out to be a spy. Once
again, no single Romulan ever appeared capable of
anything but deceit.
"And you suspect her of such sabotage?" Data
calmly inquired, as he entered the room. His
uniform was still smoky and stained. Ashes and soot
smeared his face but he remained unruffled.
"As much as we suspect the Federation of bringing their
own mercenary to cause trouble," Sela snapped.
"I must ask that both sides return to their
respective ships. Immediately," Larkin
announced in an angry voice. "Until we can
find out what has happened, all further discussions
are off. You will both wait until Premier
Daithin can fully address the matter." With that, he
stood and stepped out of the office, fully expecting the
room to be empty the next time he walked back
in.
Ro was just completing her short tour of duty on the
bridge as the latest briefing was breaking up.
While she longed to be a part of the Elohsian
mission, it was apparent this was not to be the case. At
least she had her bridge duty, so she could stay on
the periphery and see how the command crew wrestled with
each new dilemma. From what she could gather,
Starfleet was pressing Picard for action and the
Enterprise officers were uncertain as how best
to proceed next. In addition to the problems below her,
she still had her personal problems to contend with. All
shift long she had contemplated her situation with
James Kelly and was increasingly angry with herself for
not knowing how to get out of her predicament
gracefully. As a Bajoran, she had endured much
prior to joining Starfleet, and then concentrated with
all her might to get through Starfleet Academy and
serve well before the away team mission that
resulted in her court-martial. Dealing with a
love-struck teenager should present no problem,
yet she seemed immobilized by the situation. Her
rational mind analyzed the situation and came up with the
theory that this was far more emotionally based and therefore more
than a little bit removed from her realm of experience.
War, torture, and study were relatively
nonemotional issues, so this posed a new
conundrum for her.
Crossing the bridge, she stepped into the
turbolift with Dr. Crusher, and the two merely
smiled a greeting. The two had few dealings with one
another, Ro considered, but the doctor seemed a
good, decent sort. She was also a mother, and maybe
she could provide some help with the problem at hand.

All she had to do was ask.
"Doctor, do you have a moment?" Ro began.
A look of concern crossed Crusher's sharply
chiseled features. "Are you all right, Ensign?"
"I feel fine, thank you. I need the advice
of a mother."
Now Crusher's expression shifted from concern
to curiosity and she smiled. "A mother? How can I
help?"
"I've been assigned to help the
Kelly family get acclimated to the ship, and their
teenage son, James, finds me... desirable."
Crusher did what she could to hide the smile from
her face and maintain a serious demeanor. "A
crush, you mean?"
Ro sighed. "I sincerely hope that's all it
is. He has pursued me this week with gifts and
flattery and has now cornered me into accompanying
him to the newcomers' dance. How do I get out of this
without hurting his feelings or ruining my assignment?
Your Wesley is a teen and I thought.. 2'
"He just turned twenty," Beverly said
absently.
andmiddot;.. you might have some insight I can use."
Ro stopped speaking as the turbolift came to a
halt and the doors quietly swished open. The two
women strolled slowly out onto the deck and Ro
followed Crusher toward sickbay.
"I can't recall an incident similar to this,
Ro, but let me think a moment," Crusher said as the
two continued to wend their way around the ship. She
remained thoughtful for a few more moments, and Ro was
beginning to wonder if asking Crusher had been a
mistake. "You know, we're doing the same sort of
thing as James Kelly. Here we are
orbiting Eloh, doing what we can to win a planet
with our sophistication and maturity. The Romulans
may have offered them a practical gift, but we're
the ones who are offering the biggest gift: security
within our borders. James is trying to woo you with
gifts and sweet talk. Not too dissimilar at
all.
"You know, one of the reasons we're proceeding so
slowly below is that we know so little about their culture and
beliefs. We know a lot more now than we did
three days ago, but who knows what else we have
to learn? How do they celebrate holidays? What
are their most important values? Do they eat their
dead? Who can say--once we learn all that, we
may not want Eloh as a partner despite its
strategic location." She stuffed her hands in her
pockets and stood by the sickbay doors in quiet.
Ro considered the parallels just offered up and noted
the similarities. She would have preferred switching
places with Picard and matching wits with the
Romulans, but these were her own troubles and she couldn't
avoid them. Turning the words over in her mind, a
thought began to flicker. It quickly flared into a idea,
then a plan, and she smiled, the first genuine smile
of the day.
"Doctor, you have just given me a way out," Ro
said. "Thank you."
"If I did help, thanks, but, uh, what
did I say?" "Should this work, I'll tell you all
about it. I must be on myway. I need a favor from
a friend." With that, Ro spun on her heel and
returned toward the turbolift. Crusher shrugged,
smiled, and entered her own domain.
"Surely you see, Captain, that we don't know
how best to proceed, either," Daithin said from Larkin's
office. Cleaners had come through and restored the room
to order since this was the public face of the planet
to the visiting starships. He had sent the parliament
home and would call them back to session when Daithin
felt the situation was safe enough. Similarly, he
also sent Larkin away so he could be alone with his
thoughts. While he valued his friend's useful
advice, this was becoming a matter Daithin felt
fell to him, and him alone, to resolve. "I do
want to finish the talks but finding a safe haven is
becoming problematic. I also have to worry--yes,
worry--about the safety of those around us."
Picard's expression was neutral on the small
viewscreen seven feet away from the desk. The
conversation had gone on for several minutes,
and Daithin appreciated Picard's patience and good
humor. He never expected himself to be faced with such
problems when the starships first arrived. Who could
anticipate attacks with links to both the Federation
and the Romulans? He was charting new territory here
and was being extra careful not to take a misstep. After
today's incident, such a mistake could prove
deadly.
"Our security officers are willing to come down and
use our technology to make any place you
desire secure. We can confine our remaining
meetings to that room," Picard offered.
"Thank you, Captain," Daithin muttered. The
Romulans had made a similar offer minutes
before, and he could ask the two sides to cooperate and
agree to a location. There remained too many questions
to be answered first, he decided, and Daithin knew
he had to act like a leader, even if he remained
privately unsure of his actions.
"For the moment, I will consider your offer and let you
know what I will do in the morning. The hour is getting
late and this day has taken a lot out of me, a lot
indeed."
"Before we conclude this, Premier," Picard said
in that steady voice that Daithin had come

to admire, "I would like permission to have Commander Data
return to Eloh and investigate the fire's
remains. We will, of course, make all such
findings available to both you and the Romulans.
Additional information may be our best hope of finding
out what happened."
Daithin wanted to leap to accept the offer, but he was
expected to remain the wise, thoughtful statesman.
Interestingly, the Romulans had not made a
similar request, but then again, one of their own was
implicated. Maybe they were hoping the less
sophisticated Elohsians would miss something.
Additional information would only help, and he had come
to trust Picard's word.
He tried to hedge the moment. "The Romulans have
not made a similar offer just yet and I want
to make sure they are not bothered by your presence."
"I do not feel we should be prevented from conducting
our own investigation just because the Romulans are
disinclined to do so." Nothing harsh, just a counterpoint--
and a good one, Daithin felt. He was then reminded that
it was Data, after all, who risked everything to save
lives and much more. The Romulans had merely
returned to their ship, saying later they felt it best
if Eloh handled the disaster without alien
interference.
"Very well, Captain. Data may come down
tonight, but please, just him so we don't call attention
to your investigations. For now, then, fair night."
With a weary sigh, Daithin tapped a control that shut
down the communications device. He marveled at the
equipment, hoping one or both people would leave the
communications gear behind so his people could use it for global
broadcasting. It provided a stronger signal and
sharper image than anything they had developed.
He paused to wonder if it was something they could
replicate on Eloh or whether they would need
materials that could not be manufactured on his world.
Again his thoughts turned to the fateful decision that needed
to be made.
He had heard the questions being asked during the
meetings with both visitors. Daithin was shrewd enough
to listen as soldiers-turned-politicians weighed
each new piece of information as something that might shift
the tenuous balance of power. Dars and Populists could
easily be at each others' throats with phasers and
disruptors rather than mortar fire and erewhan. Such a
renewed conflict might spell the end of the
Elohsian people, and Daithin could not allow that
to happen.
Creeping in between Daithin's deliberations was the
new thought that perhaps Eloh could bargain for neutrality
and declare the entire solar system off-limits to both
governments. Would either honor that desire, and was it the
wisest course of action for the planet and his people?
Moving slowly from the office toward his home several
blocks away, Daithin began to dread another
sleepless night.
Ashes and soot had been carried by a gentle
breeze for many blocks away from the blast sight,
coating many buildings with grime. Street lights
shone brightly, casting new shadows over the city and
giving it an eerie quality the citizens had never
known before. Most remained in their homes, following the
curfew set by the chief safeguard's office. Those
that chose to violate the curfew did so only to go from
one building to another, perhaps to seek companionship
and a feeling of safety from friends or family. The
local restaurants and drinking spots had been
shuttered for the night, continuing to lend gravity to the
day's events. Night had fallen, the streets were
quiet, and fear spread out, making itself at home in
Regor.
With so few people out and about, no one noticed Data
shimmer into existence directly in the
epicenter where four fires shattered a peaceful day.
The android held his tricorder away from him and
slowly made a circle, initially surveying the
origin points of the fire. Knowledge meant everything
to Data and he most definitely wanted to spend the
next few hours surveying the damage and coming up with
answers not only for his commanding officer but for Premier
Daithin as well. In his exchanges with the world leader,
Data had come to the conclusion that Daithin genuinely
wanted what was best for his people, and such feelings,
Data had concluded long ago, historically helped
make leaders great ones.
Since their arrival on Eloh, Data had
absorbed as much information as possible about the world and its
people. His internal mechanisms recorded everything and
then, at night back aboard the Enterprise, he
allowed himself the luxury of reviewing the accumulated
knowledge and processing it, sifting it through a variety of
theories and conclusions, attempting to best comprehend
the society. As second officer to Captain
Picard, Data knew that forming opinions and
conclusions was an important facet of the job. In
return, Data appreciated the opportunity
to watch two very different human beings act with the
information and react to situations as they arose.
Picard was definitely the more private one,
relishing the chance to ponder the great mysteries of life
when not actually exploring those perplexities.
Riker preferred grabbing those unknowns with his own
hands, feeling them for what they were and dealing with them
appropriately. Intriguingly, even their choice
of musical instruments illustrated their
personalities. Picard had only recently come
to play a Ressikan flute, a soft-spoken,
eloquent instrument that worked best when played alone.
Riker's love for jazz and his own efforts with the
trombone were loud, bright, and full of zest.
The tricorder's sounds seemed louder than
normal in the quiet night air. Data made no
effort to silence them since they should have disturbed no one
for several blocks. Everyone who had lived or worked
in the area had long since been evacuated and
relocated toward the outskirts of the city. Repair
crews, he was told, would begin work within days, and the
officials had anticipated having things back
to normal within two months' time. An efficient
management approach, Data had noted earlier in
the day. Tonight, though, he concentrated more on the
destruction that had been wrought.
An hour, then two, slipped by as
Data methodically sifted debris in all four
locations. There were no noises save Data's.
No passersby, not even local vermin or insect
life dared come near the scene of the destruction. The
temperature had dropped four degrees since he
had materialized on the surface and, had he been
breathing, frost would soon have appeared. He
analyzed the decomposed remains of different
materials, organic and inorganic. Carefully,
Data moved within some of the burned-out buildings,
adjusting his own eyes to compensate for the lack of
light. The work did not bore or tire him, one of the
things that made Data perfect for the role he was
performing. The ship's command crew was no doubt
asleep by now, with the gamma shift command crew well
in place. Data had worked the rotation to allow himself
to take command during that shift at least once a
week, feeling it important that he remain a
presence on the bridge for the less experienced cers.
Troi had agreed that psychologically, it was good for the
younger officers to get the experience Data offered,
even though the crew merely steered the ship from star to star
or maintained planetary orbit. Rarely, it
seemed, the last shift of the day got called upon
to act during a crisis. Such matters were
good for contemplation another day, he concluded, and
returned his main thoughts to climbing a flight of
stairs. With each step he internally analyzed the one
before him, adjusting his angle of approach and weight
applied so as not to fall through charred floorboards.
Before he could reach the second floor, Data's
audio receivers picked up a sound not of his own
making. He stopped in his tracks and applied all
his internal analytic equipment. Creaking meant
weight, and his thermal analysis indicated a living
being was moving around above him. Someone was definitely
on the floor, walking around unhurriedly.
Furniture was being moved, and Data concluded his
presence had not yet been noticed by the other entity.
With the curfew in effect, Data was certain the
person was not authorized to be present, and he
immediately began to prepare for a possible hostile
confrontation. While one hand continued steadily to hold
the tricorder, Data's other hand carefully reached
down to his pocket and withdrew the phaser, already
locked on a moderate stun setting. Dr.
Crusher's cursory examinations of the Elohsian
physique recommended that a setting higher than
human norm be employed.
Slowly raising his head to the second
floor, Data watched the figure move around the
room, flashing a tight beam of light. Breath was
frosting upon exposure to the night air and left a
marked trail. Much of the exterior wall was gone; the
window was replaced by a garish rip in the structure
that exposed the entire room to the night sky. A
pale light from a nearby street lamp allowed for
additional illumination, and within seconds Data's
assumption of identity was proven accurate.
Settling himself on the second floor, Data
said, "Commander Sela."
The Romulan whipped about, her sleek disruptor
out and aimed directly at his head. When she
realized who it was, she smirked and holstered the
weapon. "Data."
"I did not know Premier Daithin had
authorized you to come down and also investigate,"
Data said as he remained where he was, making
sure the Romulan would not prove a threat.
"He doesn't know," she said and began looking
around the ruins. The upstairs room was obviously
an office of some kind, with desks and deep shelves
lining one wall, the books and papers now a
blackened mess. Wall hangings that had bright
colors peeking through the charred, grayish
color hung askew.
"Then what are you doing here?"
Frost continued to punctuate the conversation. "The
same thing as you, I suppose. Trying to find out who
did this."
"You truly do not know if your own centurion was
responsible?" Data was puzzled by this and waited for
Sela's response.
"Telorn was an adequate officer and I cannot
possibly imagine why she would want to do this. We
gain nothing from this."
"Nor would the Federation gain anything from the first
explosion," Data added.
Sela looked over his way, considered his comment, and
made a noncommittal sound. She continued to sift
through black junk on the floor in no apparent
pattern.
"You would then presume to find evidence that either
proved her guilty or pointed toward the true
culprit," Data offered.
"You could say that, android. We still can't locate
her, which is concern enough. Our sensors should have picked
her up hours ago. When I find her, she may just
die for being away from her post, or she may die for
treachery against the Empire."
"A curious form of justice," Data said.
"Your Federation will one day fall from such soft
responses," Sela said, a harsh tone creeping
into her voice.
"That is not for me to say," Data replied. "I
would suggest, however, that we pool our efforts to find
the cause of the explosions and what truly happened
today."
Sela stopped working and eyed the Starfleet
officer. "Why would you make this offer?"
"Because we both want the same thing: the truth.
Together we may find it."
"And do you trust me after our last encounter?"
Sela's blue eyes bored into Data, recalling
the humiliation and ruination of five years' work thanks
to the android, Captain Picard, and Ambassador
Spock.
"Deception would gain you nothing, so trust would be
implicit," Data responded.
The Romulan considered his offer, shrugged, and went
back to work, using her own sensor device and light
source. It was larger and made considerably more
noise than Data's tricorder, leading him
to observe once again that though the Romulans may have
had superior technology in some areas, they
certainly did not have a total edge over the
Federation.
"The chemical material is as we suspected,"
Data began. "This world is unfamiliar with
chemical weaponry, as far as I can tell, and was not
as equipped to stop the spread of the fire. It did
far more damage than we expected. The actual
device that held the chemical is what I would like
to find. A piece of it, anyway."
Sela was crouched by a corner, a hand sifting through
the material, the other holding her light. A gleam
of recognition was visible to Data, and he calmly
stood nearby, watching. Her dirty fingers rose,
holding a small, greenish bit of material.
Placing the light in her belt, she held up her
device, scanning it.
Cautiously, Data walked closer and asked
if he could scan the piece as well. She nodded,
not wanting to speak at the moment. Data ignored the
possible slight and concentrated on the readings. "I
show this to be a ceramic construct," Data began.
"Yes," she agreed. "Too small to be
consequential, but if we can find more of it here, and
perhaps at the other buildings.. 2'
"You believe this held the chemical?"
"If it is what I believe it to be, yes.
Come with me, Data," she commanded, and quickly moved

across the room toward the stairs. Data obediently
followed, unperturbed by her attitude. Since he
regrettably had no emotions to hurt, it did not
bother him to let the Romulan lead the way, take
charge, or seem as if she was in totally command of the
situation. He was, after all, allowed to be here
while she was present surreptitiously. Data
began to suspect that Sela's own shipmates were
unaware of her location and that this was a personal
investigation.
Within minutes, they were standing knee-deep in the
rubble that was once a storage space above a
bakery. Sacks of Elohsian sugar, flour, and
some unidentified substances had split open and
mixed with the chemical retardant to make a goo that
lathered the fallen shelves, ladders, and half the
ceiling. While Sela held her light high,
Data dug through the mire and concentrated his search for the
same bit of ceramic material. Had Geordi
been present, his VISOR might have simplified the
search, but his own visual receptors would suffice
in this case.
After nearly a quarter-hour of silent
digging, Data held up three more bits of the green
stuff. Sela scanned them and then looked worried.
Data could tell without his tricorder that the material
matched what they found across the street. "This is of
Romulan make, is it not?"
Sela, shaken by the readings, said without really paying
attention to Data, "Yes. Some of the ceramic
components are clays from Romulus. The chemical
compound is poured into these handsize containers within a

vacuum. Its acidic content eats through the ceramic
and upon exposure to air, ignites and burns
quickly. There's no doubt a Romulan was behind this.
Damn the praetor, who.
"Do you continue to suspect Telorn of being the
person who placed these devices?"
"I don't know what to suspect, android!"
Sela was seetEing and Data noted, from his
observations of Romulans, that her reaction was more
human than Romulan. "We did not come here to hand
the world to the Federation."
"I agree," he said.
She-paused for a moment and looked over toward
Data, who was dusting himself off. His words seemed
to stop her cold, and Data watched her expression
change from fury to puzzlement. He chose
to continue his theory. "Neither the Federation nor the
Romulan Empire came here to sabotage their own
efforts and "hand the world" to the other side. I can
only conclude that there are third-party agents with an
agenda we do not as yet know."
"A reasonable assumption, Data," she
agreed. "And how do we prove this new theory of
yours?"
"I do not know, as of this moment. But clearly, to do
this, I believe we will have to work together despite our
differing philosophies."
Sela stood still, pondering those thoughts, and Data
simply watched her, not certain of how the suggestion
would be received. The moments ticked by slowly and all that
convinced Data that Sela had not turned into a statue
was the continual stream of frosty breath. Finally she
made her decision, stepped toward Data, and gave
him a rare, genuine smile. He noted that it
enhanced her cold beauty as he understood the
descriptions.
"All right, Data. If you have a plan, I will
listen."
DATA RETURNED TO HIS PACING, back
in detective mode.
His thoughts were, for humans, an
orderly collection of patterns, deductions, and
hypotheses. To Data, though, they were a scramble of
incomplete ideas all running on parallel
processors and fighting for attention. Even with his
amazing positronic brain, it took him some time
to sort through the facts, comparisons to similar
incidents in his memory banks, random comments that had
been filed away and may now prove useful,
hundreds of theories, and two separate tracks that
involved surveillance on Commander Sela, and one
on on comparing Elohsian musical etudes to that
found on the Denebian colonies.
Sela merely watched him pace back and forth, but
even the cool Romulan had her limits, he
noted.
"Why do you move about so?" she finally asked.
"Ah, you are unaware of Terran detective
fiction," Data said, a thoughtful expression
crossing his face. "I have done a great deal of
reading on the subject," he continued, "and find the
methods of most fictional detectives quite
fascinating. I have emulated their approaches on more
than one occasion to satisfactory results.
Since we are posed with a mystery, I have returned
to that mode of operation for the moment. Does it
bother you?"
"No, but get on with it if you have something," she
demanded.
"Of course. Do you agree that we are dealing with a
third party that wishes both the Federation and the
Romulan Empire in will?"
Sela seemed to consider the question a moment. He
presumed that she was weighing the evidence along with her
intimate knowledge of the Enterprise and its crew. There could
be only one answer, but he waited patiently.
"Yes," she concurred.
"Very good. With us both believing in this new theory,
then we can better operate together. I have reason
to suspect that there is a connection between the dead human
mercenary and your centurion, Telorn."
"Unlikely," Sela replied. "Telorn
has never left the Empire before this mission. She
would have had no contact with humans. The N'ventnar,
before this mission, was performing duties well within the
Empire and away from you."
Data continued to pace, hands behind his back. "I
see. Could she have been bought by someone?"
"Bought? I had not considered this, but I suppose
after today, anything is possible."
Sela began to move away from the worst

of the mire and brushed her clammy, dirty hands on
her pants, ignoring the rest of the mess. "If
you're right, Data, then the clues we're seeking
could be here, right under our noses, and we'd never know.
Damn, this is infuriating."
Data had just given her a new avenue to consider,
and he knew Sela would need some time to process the
concept and see if it was worth accepting. Either way,
the very notion would no doubt be distasteful to the proud
Romulan and might alter her mood. He merely
watched, trying to see if he correctly
predicted her action and frame of mind.
"If we're done here," she said sourly, "could
we please leave this place? The stink is starting
to get to me."
Data stopped pacing at her last words and whirled
about. He snapped his fingers and actually said, "Ah
ha!" On the one hand, he was pleased that he had
correctly presumed she would alter her mood, but
then his mind seized on her sentence, and clues fell
into place and a new theorem was being developed. All
this happened with lightning speed so Sela could not
possibly comprehend what her words triggered; she
merely stared at him.
He walked over to the table where the three
bits of ceramic sat and then bent over them. She
watched, curious, as he bent lower and actually
began sniffing the pieces. Then he went over to the
wall where the pieces were found and began sniffing there,
periodically consulting his talcorder, which whirred and
beeped on occasion.
Finally, Data stood and entered some information
into his ever-present tricorder. He waited
briefly for some result to come up on the tiny
screen, and then Data walked over to Sela.
Holding the tricorder up for her to see, he said,
"We have something."
"What?" she asked.
"You mentioned clues right under our noses and then,
moments later, the stink, something I had not considered
previously. It led me to think of a story I only
recently acquainted myself with. One of the great
detective stories of Edgar Allen Poe was
"The Purloined Letter." Written in the nineteenth
century and featuring the first of the great literary
detectives..." "Get on with it," she ordered.
Data was nonplussed by the command and interrupted his
lecture. "The point of the story is that a rare
postage stamp was missing, and while local police
searched high and low for the item, it remained
in the house all the-time, affixed to an envelope like
an ordinary stamp of its day."
"What does this... this stamp have to do with us?" she
asked curtly.
"We have a clue under our own noses that the
Elohsian authorities would never think
to investigate."
"Do I have to drag this out of you, Data?" Sela
said, sounding frustrated with her newfound partner.
"I think not. What I have been doing these last
few minutes is to acquire a catalogue of the
smells associated with the bombs. If we go to the
other three sights, I suspect we will discover the
same odors, odors which would not usually be
associated with this area or even this continent."
Sela began to smile at Data's ingenuity.
"Your tricorder readings seem to indicate you have
smelled andmiddot;.. seaweed?"
"I believe so. Let us go to the other buildings
before you are missed back on your own ship."
Before another hour elapsed, Data's keen
sensory equipment allowed him to find not only more,
similar smells, but five more pieces of the ceramic
used to house the flammable compound. On the surface,
the rough-textured Romulan-made
material was damning evidence, but with Data's
help, the true story behind the bombs would come out.
Sela seemed to understand this without lengthy discussion, and
Data approved of her keen, adaptable
mindandmiddot; He normally did not allow himself
to dwell on Sela's purported parent, Tasha
Yar, but in such prolonged, close proximity he
found himself returning to comparisons between the two. Rather
than let himself get totally carried away, he
ordered up a subroutine that would keep a running
file of comparisons for future analysis. He
hoped he might find a clue that would help
Captain Picard establish her true identity
once and for all. What Data did not add was that it
would settle the issue for him, too, and that was one
matter he felt the need to resolve.
When they had finished with the fourth building, the duo
stepped out into the street, remaining away from the pools
of light cast by the street lamps every few feet.
Both were pleased that no one had interrupted their work,
and Data had theorized that when Daithin gave
permission for him to beam down, he had asked the
local safeguards to steer clear of the
"I will return to the Enterprise and continue my
research. Later, I will notify you of my
results. From that, we can consider a course of
action. How shall I contact you?"
"I will be in touch," she said simply. Opening her
own recording device, she depressed a stud and
within seconds, she dematerialized, returning to her
own ship no doubt through some prearranged program.
Data, his work done, signaled for his own return
home.
Captain Picard started his day rested; he had
slept well for a change and immensely enjoyed his
breakfast conversation with Dr. Crusher, discussing
matters having nothing to do with Eloh. Over the meal,
though, doubts and dark thoughts returned to his
conscious mind and his mood returned to a guarded,
sober condition. No doubt the problems in orbit below
him were far from over, and his every action seemed to take on
greater importance.
As the turbolift doors opened and he strode
onto the bridge, Picard surveyed the area and was
content that things continued to run smoothly.
Lieutenant Keefer stood from the center seat and
relinquished command, officially concluding the gamma
shift. Most everyone else was already in place for the
day watch, although Riker was nowhere to be seen. No
doubt involved in some minutiae of the ship's
business, he mused.
Picard then noticed Data quietly working with the
bridge's aft science stations. His uniform was
dirty and seemed to carry a medley of odors,
including smoke, fire, and other things
unidentified. It was a thick, unpleasant
smell, oddly reminiscent of Eloh. Before taking
his command seat, he strolled over to the station and watched
Data at work. For a moment, things remained silent,
until Picard allowed himself a chance to continue his
scan of the bridge. As his eyes rested on the
viewscreen, the accustomed view of Eloh was
different, altered somehow.
"Mr. Data, did we change orbit
overnight?"
Data paused his work and looked up at the
captain. "Yes, sir. I needed to change the
orbit in order to complete a revised sensor
sweep of the planet. I can have us return to standard
orbit now that I am done."
"What the devil were you doing all night? What
did you find on the planet?"
"It was a most interesting night, Captain,"
Data began, sounding enthusiastic over his work. "I
have pursued a line of inquiry which may
produce satisfactory results."
Picard nodded, tight-lipped, waiting for the
usual complete report, replete with details.
"I smelled something unusual, sir. First, we
detected..."
"We?" Picard seemed suddenly concerned.
Data paused to consider his answer, realized his
omission, and continued. "Yes. Commander Sela was
apparently also conducting a search for clues, although
hers was a secretive mission, unknown to local
authorities."
Picard uncharacteristically appeared quite surprised.
Immediately his features smoothed over and he simply
said, "I see. Go on, please."
"We did find conclusive evidence that Mr.
Worf's analysis of the explosion was correct.
The firebombs did come from a purely Romulan
source. Commander Sela seemed unable to explain how
this happened without her knowledge. I then detected an odor
that seemed out of place. Pursuing that, I found the
same trace smell in all four bomb sights, and
that research took up a considerable amount of time.
When I returned to the ship, I continued my
studies which forced me to alter the ship's orbit."
"And you found.. andmiddot; ?" Picard
prompted, growing slightly impatient with the
drawn-out response. "Seaweed."
"Seaweed?" Picard seemed genuinely
perplexed. First Sela, and now seaweed. This day had
suddenly grown odd, and a sour feeling began to form in
the pit of his stomach.
"Yes, sir. The saltwater of Eloh's
oceans produce a rather pungent form of seaweed that,
when dried, is used to season foods on the Dar
continents. This was a similar but not exact odor, and
I continued my research until I found a
hydroponics plant on the continent of Delpine
Dar. Most of the planet's oxygen-producing
vegetable life is there, and the plant is in place
to increase such production to help restock the
continents that were most ecologically damaged during the
wars. The smell, I believe, is
hydroponical-ly grown seaweed."
"And you believe the people behind the bombs are located
on Delpine Dar, at this research center?" "That
is my current belief, sir."
Picard pondered the revelations and considered the
next course of action. Of course, it would fall
to Data to find this obscure line of reasoning and
make it work. Surely, had they known
to look for it, the human officers might have scented the
seaweed but not given it much significance. But Data
was right, the seaweed odor had little business being found in
the center of town, near the parliament. Picard the
scholar considered that such trace clues had often
helped authorities find criminals who usually
prided themselves on how smart they were. A little too
obscure a clue, perhaps, for Dixon Hill, but
certainly not at all beyond the ken of Sherlock
Holmes.
"Very good work, Mr. Data. I will give this some
thought and plan a course of action. In the meantime,
why don't you return to your quarters and change into a
slightly less noticeable uniform."
Data cocked his head at Picard's suggestion.
He looked down at his regulation clothes and then
took a whiff. "Ah," was all he said, and
promptly left the bridge. Picard smiled and
went to his command seat and thought.
Shortly, he was joined by Commander Riker and,
briefly, the captain filled in his number one
officer on Data's latest line of reasoning. At
the mention of seaweed, Will's dark eyebrows shot up
and a grin crossed his face. By the time Picard had
finished, Will shook his head in wonderment at
Data's skill, and just then, the detective himself
returned to the bridge. They beckoned him over to the
command center.
"I think, given the circumstances and method of
discovery, that we will allow Mr. Data to continue
to lead our investigation," Picard announced.
"Agreed," Riker said.
"I believe we will need permission to have Mr.
Data return to Eloh and visit this
hydroponics research center. I'd like you to take
Mr. Worf with you, Data." "Understood, sir."
"I'll contact Premier Daithin immediately and
see if we can't get this investigation moving." With
that, Picard rose and moved into his ready room for the
conversation, certain the day was not as he originally
envisioned it, but was pleased to see things heading toward a
conclusion--this might turn out to be a satisfactory
mission after all.
Daithin was wondering if this was what it meant
to age. He had slept badly for another night and
was irritable with his staff when he arrived at
Parliament. His shoulders and multitude of scars
ached all over, and the leader frowned at the sight of the
firebombs" work as he gazed from his window,
ignoring his daily paperwork. No doubt
about it, he was not in a tolerant mood today.
Grudgingly taking his seat behind an ornate desk in
his private office, Daithin called up the day's
information on his personal computer and hastily
scrolled through news announcements and private
messages from worried politicians, and ignored
his schedule. As he tapped a spoon against his hot
mug, he recognized there was no such thing as keeping
to the agenda anymore. Every time something happened around
the globe, the schedule was the first thing to go. Larkin
normally did a fabulous job juggling the dates and
appointments, but even he was tested to the limit as the
presentations, tours, and meetings with the two races were
constantly being altered. While he had gotten
to visit the warbird, he seemed destined not to make
it to the Enterprise.
Daithin stopped tapping the spoon when he
realized the rhythmic sound was getting annoying. He
blew on the mug and took a drink--never as good as
his wife's, but it would get him through the day. The very
act of sipping the drink made him long to be at
home spending more time with his bride, and to stop feeling
the crushing weight of the world on his shoulders.
His first order of business, though, was to restore
order to the meetings and swiftly conclude the
business with both governments so the parliament could
make a decision. For the moment he ignored the
possibility that the parliament could not possibly come
to a reasonable resolution with these acts of terrorism
coloring everyone's perceptions. Daithin had
to place his confidence in two alien races, neither of
which he felt he truly understood. This left him
feeling unusually vulnerable and maybe even a little
scared. After all, this was a bigger undertaking than he
ever imagined, and sometimes he wished the dreamers,
Dona and Simave, never whispered about the stars to the
war-weary populace. The battles would have come to a
close soon enough, he mused, but then again, maybe
not.
He did not like having to revise the appointments
again but felt he had no choice, and since he was
feeling surly, would do it himself with an eye toward an
expeditious conclusion to this once and for all. With
rapid keystrokes, Daithin arranged and
rearranged the mosaic before him. It took time, which
he probably didn't have, given the increasing sounds
of the day's business on the other side of his locked
door, but he had no choice. The calendar was most
important since it set the tone for the day and perhaps the
next millennium:
Finally, there came a loud knock. Unfinished,
Daithin was unhappy with the interruption, but the knock
had a familiar tone. The double rap was used only
by his friend, Larkin. Reaching beneath his desk, he
pressed a small button that unsealed the door and
allowed the shorter Elohsian to enter.
"Fair day, Daithin," Larkin said, seeming in
far better spirits than the world's leader. He even
wore one of his brighter garments, with flashing yellow and
silver filigree trim on both arms and legs.
Daithin was grumpy enough that he threw on the first garment
he reached in his closet and hadn't considered a
choice. He paused to glance at it and realized it was
one of the more somber outfits, with rose and deep
purple piping along the shoulders and arms with a thick,
brown belt and a planetary symbol as its
buckle, matching his mood.
"No it's not, so don't lie," Daithin said
roughly. He swiveled the computer screen around and
gestured at it with a finger. "Here, look at what
I've done and see if you can finish it up. I
want to notify both commanders of the plans and get this
affair back on track."
Larkin busied himself with the screen for a few moments,
immediately moving pieces around like a puzzle,
then looked up and said, "Oh, Captain Picard
is trying to reach you. Are you prepared for him?"
Daithin was not at all ready, but took a deep
breath, glanced at the screen to see how the schedule
was coming, and decided it was time to get started doing something
constructive with his day. Anything. He walked
into Larkin's smaller office just down the short
hallway, and entered. With practiced ease, he
placed himself behind the desk, let the breath out, and
activated the screen.
"Fair morning, Captain," Daithin said,
completely lying. "Was your officer able to find
anything last night?" He desperately hoped for a
positive response.
Picard smiled, showing confidence. "A fair
morning to you, Premier. Actually, we have a very
strong lead that I would like Data and Mr. Worf
to pursue. May I have your permission to beam these men
down to the hydroponics researdh center on
Delpine Dar?"
Now this was totally unexpected, and it showed on the
premier's dark-skinned face. Daithin wasn't
sure what to make of this new turn of events.
Delpine Dar was one of the more stable continents, and he
couldn't imagine how the bombings on
Regor and Dos Dar linked with the other continent.
"Is it in danger?"
"Not that we know of, Premier," Picard
replied. That look of confidence supported Daithin
despite the bleak thoughts rummaging around in his mind.
"Very well, then. Let me have Larkin make the
necessary security arrangements there. I don't want
anything to happen to your men."
"Thank you, Premier. Have you made any
decisions regarding today's agenda?"
Daithin was planning on stalling or making something
up from what he remembered of the jumbled schedule, but
a console on the desk winked purple and caught his
eye. Within seconds, the day's schedule flashed on
the screen and Daithin addressed the camera,
imitating Picard's confidence.
"Actually, yes, Captain. We'd very much like
to conduct the tour of the Enterprise this afternoon, at
fourteen-hundred hours your time, of course. That would
put us... just a day behind schedule, I believe. This
morning I'll finish my interrupted meeting with the
Romulan party, so I'll be free by then." His
eyes flicked over to the small screen again and noted
that Larkin had Picard making his formal address tomorrow
morning. He made the invitation and was
pleased to see that Picard was more than happ5t
to accommodate the (again) revised Elohsian
schedule. But then, what choice did Picard, or
Sela for that matter, have? At least he was able
to exercise that much control over tilde the
proceedings.
When the screen went blank, Daithin breathed.
easier, feeling a bit more in control. This business
about Delpine Dar worried him since it was
unexpected, but he was feeling more trusting of the
Federation officers and was willing to let the investigation
proceed. He summoned Larkin and briefed him on
the latest, dispatching him to make sure things would be
ready and secure at the center.
The captain assembled Worf, Data, Troi,
and Riker in the observation lounge for a quick recap so
that everyone knew the basic information. Worf grunted
in approval of Data's work and Picard
suppressed a smile at the Klingon's reaction
to Data the detective. "I'm only sending you
two down so we don't attract too much attention
to the investigation. I want you both prepared with
tricorders and phasers, just in case. We'll have
someone monitoring your position to be on the safe
side."
"Captain," a voice sounded over the
communicator. "We're getting a signal from the
warbird--sir, it's marked for Commander Data and is
private."
Picard glanced over toward his second officer,
and Data, unruffled as usual, merely said tilde
"I have been expecting this call."
"By all means, take it here. We're done for
now." With that, everyone slowly filed out of the room,
most glancing over at Data to see if he would
mention more about the message. Data, though, was damned
good at keeping secrets.
Returning to the command center, Picard stopped
by Worf and the tactical station, waiting not only for
Data's conversation to finish, but for Larkin to contact
them with details for the beam down. Standing behind the
Klingon, he nodded in silent pleasure that everything
was calm and quiet. Picard had earlier ordered the
ship back to its original orbit, and the view of
Eloh was now a familiar sight. By his
estimates, there were two days, three at most before this
situation would be resolved one way or the other. On
most diplomatic missions, Picard could gauge
early on how the mission was going. This one was harder
to estimate because of the constant topsy-turvy
turn of events. He had absolutely no clue
which way things would go when the final vote was taken. The
captain was glad he would be able to make his formal
presentation to Parliament, preferably after everything
had been revealed. Being able to present his case with the
full story known would strengthen his cause and
possibly even sway the vote in the Federation's
favor.
"Can I help you, Captain?" Worf asked in
his usual low rumble.
"Just checking the view from above, Mr. Worf.
It's not something I take enough time to do."
"I see," the security chief replied stiffly,
indicating he truly didn't understand. "If I
may ask, Captain..."
"Go ahead, Mr. Worf," Picard invited,
curious.
"This Edgar Allen Poemhe was definitely a
nineteenth-century human?"
Picard cocked his head. "Of course."
"His imagination can rival that of our best
Klingon authors, even today," the Klingon
admitted.
TI-LEvery ROMULAN STRATAGEM'
"I see," Picard acknowledged. "Have
you been reading him, too?"
It took the proud warrior a moment to reply.
"With everyone else discussing his worth, I grew...
curious. His stories can inspire the blood, and I
see why the counselor was so easily chilled. They
will make fine bedtime stories for Alexander."
A few minutes later, Data came out of the
observation lounge and reported directly
to Picard. "That was Commander Sela. She has sent
Plactus to conclude their business with Premier
Daithin. When Worf and I beam down, she will
meet us on Delpine Dar." A low growl rumbled
from behind them.
"I understand," Picard said, ignoring Worf for the
moment. "If you have preparations, feel free to make
them. But tell me one thing. We didn't discuss this
earlier, but what led you to find the odor as a clue?"
""The Purloined Letter," sir," Data
replied.
It took Picard a moment, but then he followed
Data's line of reasoning. At a glance, he could
tell both Riker and Troi obviously did not.
"Very good, Mr. Data. Dismissed."

"What was all that about?" Troi asked.
"I recommend you both, like Data,
brush up on your Poe detective fiction,"
Picard replied, letting a smile stay on his
face. "After all, those stories won't give you
nightmares." His attention turned to other matters,
and he rose from his chair and returned to the tactical
station where Worf silently maintained his post. From his
very body language, Picard could tell that Worf
was having a problem. Walking very close to the
Klingon, Picard spoke softly.

"Mr. Worf, I know this presents a new
difficulty for you," he began.
"Yes, sir," was the only reply, and that through
gritted teeth.
"I can think of no better officer to accompany
Data to the planet in order to get the job done.
You have my confidence and appreciation for the uncomfortable
position I am putting you in."
"Understood," Worf replied. He remained
stiff, but Picard could see in his eyes that Worf
would do the job despite his personal distaste for the
new ally.
As the Enterprise officers rematerialized on
Delpine Dar, their first sight was that of another
figure also materializing. Worf made an
unhappy face as Sela completed her
transport and immediately waved her weapon in their
direction. She bolstered the weapon and walked toward
them, a smirk growing on her face.
They were all standing in a clearing near a lush green
tropical forest. In the distance they heard the
mechanized hum of machinery, indicating which way the
research center was located. Before beaming down,
Worf and Data made a quick study of the continent.
It was Eloh's second largest land mass, and more
than sixty percent of the planer's oxygen came from
the tropical rain forests. Worf had commented to the
second officer that the Elohsians may have waged a
bitter civil war, but were not insane enough to jeopardize
their very lifeblood, and so the jungles remained
unofficially off-limits. As a result, it was one
of the first areas to get back up to peak performance when the
unity was achieved. The research center they were
visiting was one of the newer symbols of the continent's
peace and prosperity. There were water, vegetation, and
other natural elements all mixed together. He
imagined the Elohsians couldn't sense much of it, which
was a pity since the air was filled with life and
buoyed his spirit.
No one had asked the Klingon's opinion, but there
was little Picard could do but assign his most
qualified officer to work with a Romulan. As it
was, Worf's racial hatred of Romulans was
bred in him at a young age. All Klingons were
taught early on who was your friend and who was your enemy.
Right after they learned which houses were to be counted as
allies, they were taught about neighboring races.
The Klingons had a long memory and never forgave
the Romulans for repeated treachery over the years.
Nearly a century ago the two powers had been
united, although it was a loose alliance that seemed
to benefit neither party. Then, just as abruptly as they
came together, the two sides ended up being bitter
enemies with bloody results. Both felt it was
their due to inherit the known galaxy, with the Federation
seen only as a temporary inconvenience, despite
setback after setback to both sides. While the
Romulans stayed away from Federation contact for
sixty years, there were constant skirmishes with the
Klingon Empire during those bleak years.
Oddly, just as the Klingons were getting used to their
independence, circumstances forced them to reconsider
their relationship with the Federation and, beginning with the peace
conference on Khitomer, a new age dawned for both
races. The new alliance was put to the test at
Narenda III twenty-five years ago,
when the Enterprise, NCC-1701-C, came to the
Klingon outpost's defense against a Romulan
incursion. It was this very attack that initially destroyed
the starship but also created the time warp that gave Sela
life, and further cemented the friendship between the Klingons
and the Federation. Or so Sela had claimed to Picard

over a year earlier. Picard later told his
senior crew about the boast and Guinan's peculiar
endorsement of the probability that the claim was true.
In the years since Data and Worf joined the
Enterprise, each had' many opportunities
to witness firsthand the Romulans' ability for treachery
and deceit, acting in ways that would have brought dishonor
to any Klingon house. Still, the Romulans'
deceit more deeply affected Worf at every turn.
The House of Duras, for example, suffered
greatly for their clandestine work with the Romulans over the
years. First, it was Duras's father, Ja'rod; who
betrayed his people and allowed four thousand to die during the
surprise Romulan attack at Khitomer, which
left Worf and Kurn orphans. Years later,
while aboard the Enterprise, Worf was able
to defend his father's name and prove the House of
Duras was ultimately at fault. Undaunted,
Duras's sisters, B'Etor and
Lursa, worked closely with Commander Sela
to divide the Klingon Empire through civil war,
making it ripe for conquest by the Romulans. Again,
Worf, with his brother Kurn, helped defend the
Empire and saw to it Gowron was left to rule a
united, if not entirely happy Klingon
Empire.
There remained no question, Worf concluded, that he
had cultural as well as personal reasons for
hating the Romulans, notably Sela. But the
Klingon was also a man of principle, and his orders
were to cooperate and he would do so. Grudgingly..
"Commander, I see you have brought a pet," Sela
said contemptuously, hands on her hips. Worf
loudly' growled, but before he could respond, Data
smoothly moved between them.
"Commander Sela, I appreciate the need that
has brought us to cooperate together. However,
Lieutenant Worf is here to work with us. He will be
treated' as a fellow officer and colleague. If you
cannot give him that due, then our partnership will end
here." Data stood his ground, making no move
toward or away from the Romulan.
"I understand, Data. My people have worked alongside
Klingons before, and I can do so for the good of my
mission," she said formally but coolly, not at all
meaning the words.
Before the conversation went any further, the trio
heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Since they
were expecting to be met, no one raised a weapon,
but Worf allowed himself to 1ooson up, remaining in
combat readiness. Within seconds, people came from behind a
cluster of low-sloping trees with leaves that were long and
curled. The five Elohsians were led by a woman
in the dark green garb Data recognized as that of a
safeguard. Her silver badge of office was
visible on the belt buckle, while the people behind had the
usual dark clothing with ornate trim, these in
browns and golds.
"Greetings. I am Lan Mathli, chief
safeguard at the research center. These are your
hosts for your stay." She then introduced each
person, all of whom appeared to be regular
researchers given a great opportunity to meet people from
another world. Sela, taking the lead, made the necessary
introductions and the group moved toward the research
center itself. The building was a one-story construct,
similar to the rambling architecture of the banquet
hall back on Regor. It was newer-looking and
had chrome trim in spots near doors and
windows. Behind the main building was a gigantic
glass structure that was their greenhouse for the various
experiments. Grounds-keepers tended the open-air
gardens set around the structures, and there was a
feeling of peace about the setup.
Once inside, Lan Mathli asked, "How can
we help?"
Data stepped forward, beginning to take charge of the
discussion. Worf took a step back and observed
everyone's body language and placement of obvious
weapons. He was taking nothing by chance. "Our own
research from the Enterprise indicates that your work
includes artificially breeding new forms of kelp and
seaweed as a foodstuff. Am I correct?"
The shortest Elohsian, nearly Worf's
height, nodded. "That's right, Data. It's something
really new and we're excited about its ability
to help those areas that haven't repaired their farmland
yet.."
"Where is the new growth located?"
"Why, in the auxiliary greenhouse, not far from
here."
Sela nodded and asked, "Do you guard all your
buildings? Or are they under surveillance?" Good
questions, Worf had to admit.
Lan Mathli shook her head and replied, "We
haven't had the need, Commander Sela. There has
been no need even during the war. Why, there's just me
and two others, and we usually help out with the research
since our safeguard duties aren't usually called
for,"
"They might be soon," Worf rumbleed.
"I think it would be best if you showed us this
building," Data suggested. Lan Mathli agreed
and led the group back out into the filtered sunlight.
During their brief walk, Ieaan Mathli and
Worf were side by side. "It must be very quiet
here," Worf said by way of conversation.
"Yes. We PoPulists knew better than
to engage the Dar here. Oh, there were some skirmishes
on the coastlines but that had more to do with piracy than
politics.""
"Did you serve in the war?"
"Of course. I was proud to hold the Populist
banner on Hyanth. In fact, I was wounded four
times and managed to return to fight each time."
"Admirable."
"It was my duty," she commented. "Now that we conh
unity, my duty is to protect this place."
"It seems unfitting for a warrior of
your caliber," Worf said.
She laughed and replied, "Thank you for saying
dis.t, Worf, but I was posted here and this is fine.

I think I grew weary of war by the time it ended, and
this is an acceptable change for now. I won't
shirk from the chance for combat in the future, but here and
now I am content."
Data moved toward the pair, obviously
intrigued by the conversation. "Does it bother you, a
Populist, to be placed among the Dar?"
"Not at all, Data. I defended my homeland
from invaders. I hold no grudge against these Dar
since they weren't the invaders."
"Interesting. My studies to date have shown a
strong instance of prejudice remaining between the sides.
You are the exception."
"That's nice to hear," she said, and moved further
tilde into the jungle.
This isn't going as bad as it might, Geordi
thought to himself as the tour of the Enterprise finally was under
way. Captain Picard himself was leading the group of
Elohsian dignitaries, which was a rare sight for the
crew. Normally such tours fell to Riker or
Troi but given the importance of the mission, it
didn't surprise the chief engineer at
all that the captain took the lead. He took
tremendous pride in his ship and it wasn't often he
got to show it off to world leaders, much as they showed off
their own worlds. Dr. Crusher and Geordi were the
only ones accompanying the captain since it was
decided Riker had best remain on the bridge in
case Data and Worf needed help.
Counselor Troi was also dealing with some shipboard
matters that had been put off during the Elohsian
problems, and she was getting backed up with
appointments.
"A bright, clean ship, very bright," Daithin
muttered mostly to himself as they entered the crew
decks. Larkin and the other parliamentary members
nodded in silent agreement. Their pace was
definitely leisurely, Geordi noted, and he
felt the tour would take quite a bit of time. To top it
off, he was also expected to devote some private
time to Conductor Luth, who. hung at the back of the
group, examining everything possible with his magnifying
loupe. He curiously avoided asking any
technical questions, and Geordi could only imagine that
they were all being saved up for later.
"All officers have private quarters," Picard
explained. "Junior crew are paired
up according to Commander Troi's recommendations." He
went on to describe the psychological importance
of off-duty time and the recreational options available
to the crew. "The recreation areas include a variety
of games that test the mind or even the spirit."
"We, too, like games of chance," Larkin said.
"Military simulations were an important part of the
Populist naval training, which is why we succeeded
so often on the oceans, and now our children seem to enjoy
pretending."
"Succeeded on the oceans, indeed," sniffed a
member of the party, obviously a Dar who objected
to the boast.
Picard quickly reasserted himself, bringing the
conversation back to games. "Some of'my senior
officers enjoy a playing card game called poker,
while others seem to enjoy the high-spirited competition in
more physical matches such as handball or parises
squares."
After watching the Elohsians for a few days and
reading up a bit on their past battles, Geordi
was convinced these people would make fine Dabo players,
bringing their high passions to the game. Ferengi
merchants would clean up opening an establishment here
--another reason the world was better off being
protected by the Federation or even the Romulans,
who hated the Ferengi almost as much as they hated
humans.
The tour wended its way through the ship and at one
point, while the group was awaiting a turbolift,
a new line of questioning came up.
"Captain, what's the photon torpedo complement
of a Galaxy-class starship?" Larkin asked
casually.
"Our armaments are housed separately," Picard
replied, avoiding the actual answer. "And I
hope you can understand that they will not be a part of our tour.
Also, please understand that the nature of our weapons
is totally defense related."
"What about your shuttles? Do they come armed?"
"Actually, no. They are merely transport
vehicles and are not usually expected to encounter
hostilities." "How has this ship fared in combat with
Romulan warbirds?" another visitor asked.
"We've sustained minor damage in the rare
instances when we have had to defend ourselves," Picard
responded. Geordi could see Picard's jaw
tighten and was probably the only one to understand how
rare that was. He knew these questions were designed
to see which ship was actually superior, a
natural inclination of the Elohsians, but La Forge
also knew that Picard disliked discussing the ship's
weaponry since the captain always considered it a necessary
evil.
"Will we have a chance to survey your battle
bridge?"
Picard snapped about, surprised at the
thoroughness of the diplomatic office's efforts.
He'd have to have a word with them when this mission was
completed. "I'm afraid our reduced schedule
wilI not allow us the luxury."
"Are you able to fire both photon torpedoes and
phasers simultaneously and while using warp
speed?" Larkin probed deeper than any previous
visitor Geordi had witnessed.
"Sir," Picard began, barely containing his
exasperation. "I am attempting to show you the full
range of this vessel and its crew. We're an
exploratory ship, not a warship. Some of the races

we encounter prove to be hostile and we must be
prepared to defend this ship. After all we have not only
Starfleet personnel aboard, but families as
well."
Daithin wisely chose then to change the subject
as the turbolift doors opened. "These
families, Captain, do you find yourself commanding this
vessel any differently because of their presence?"
Better ground, Geordi noted, and he listened
to Picard's discourse on command styles. It wasn't
often he got the opportunity to watch Picard the
diplomat, and he admired the way the captain
handled these myriad questions without breaking stride.
By the time the group had completed the tour, it was
evident everyone needed a break, so the last stop being
Ten-Forward turned out to be inspired. Guinan was
at her charming best, making the Elohsians laugh and
showing them how best to drink a smoky concoction from
Wrigley's Pleasure Planet. Picard hung
back and watched, smiling as Guinan held court.
If anyone could make these people feel pleased about the
Federation, it was she.
At one point, just as Geordi was relaxing,
Luth walked over andwitha conspiratorial wink said,
"It is time to return the favor. You climbed all
over my buildings; now I want to see what really
makes this ship tick.""
Still with mixed feelings, Geordi smiled and
agreed tilde leading the Elohsian toward the
nearest Jeffries tube. He idly wondered if
the larger Elohsians might get stuck
deep within the Enterprise and how that would go over with
Daithin and Picard.
Data's tricorder sounded out of place amid the
chittering sounds of native animal life-forms
hidden deep in the verdant jungle. He was taking
initial readings on the building that was hundreds of
yards away from the research center. So far he had
managed to gauge its building material,
approximate age, and other basic facts.
Built only in the last two years, Lan
Mathli explained, it was specifically designed for
experiments outside the center's normal range of
activities. The seaweed project had begun
early on and, with its success, became the
predominant work' done in the building.
Its boxlike shape was similar to the power conduit
stations in the other cities they had visited,
supporting the theory that their architecture was
definitely more for function than design. It was at
best one hundred meters wide and seventy-five
meters long, with large front windows and a sloping
roof that allowed rainwater to run off into pipes that
took it away, perhaps somewhere to be stored. It had no
outside decorations and was a drab monochrome so it
mostly blended in with its environment. In
some ways, Worf concluded, it would be an ideal
supply depot for an army or even a bunker.
"I can understand the need for sunlight, but I do not
see why the back portion of the building is blacked
out," Worf observed.
One of the researchers stepped forward and said, "It's
not supposed to be."
With that, Worf withdrew his weapon and took on a
defensive demeanor. After all, if the clues led
them to this building and something was not as it should be, logic
dictated caution would be prudent. "How recently
was this building last inspected?" he asked Lan
Mathli.
"I would have to check my records, but we usually
make a perimeter walk once every six hours."
"Would your men have noticed this change in the
structure?" Sela asked, now also holding her
disruptor.
"I don't know."
Worf ignored Sela's dismissive sound and
continued to lead the group quietly toward the building.
Data adjusted his recording to biological readings
and stood behind the others, scanning intently. "How many
should be in the building at this time?"
The researcher that already volunteered
information spoke up again, his voice noting
surprise. "None today. We did our work there
yesterday."
"Mr. Worf, my tricorder shows five people within
that building. How do you recommend we proceed from
here?"
"Allow me to be the first to enter, with Lan Mathli
and... Commander Sela flanking. If they are
hostile, we'll know immediately."
"If they have evidence to conceal, would not such an
approach allow them time to destroy it?"
"A calculated risk," was all Worf would
say.
He asked the researchers to remain where they were standing
while he and the others made the first move. Withdrawing
his own phaser, Data gestured for Worf to proceed
as originally proposed, with the commander remaining in the
rear.
The foursome moved closer to the building, and as they
reached within four feet of the structure Worf was
repelled by an electric discharge. He was merely
stunned and knocked to the ground but then quickly regained
his footing. Data immediately reopened the tricorder and
adjusted the scans. "I did not take inffconsideration
the possibility of a defense. There is a
force field in place here."
"We don't use force fields here," Lan
Mathli said in astonishment.
"But we do," Sela offered. "As does the
Federation. Data, you've found our prey."
Data shook his head. "Not yet. I have found a
new problem but it may be quickly correctable. This
is a fairly standard shield and easily
circumvented. They obviously did not expect
Starfleet or Romulans to discover their place of
hiding." With nimble fingers Data set to work and within
two minutes had programmed the small tricorder
to emit a carrier wave pulse that would temporarily
disrupt the field tilde
"Ready... now!" he called. The pulse was a
bright violet against the shimmering electrical
field, and all. could see a tear form. As one, the
four moved through the rip before the pulse ended and allowed
the shield to regain stability.
Worf reacted quickly and smashed his way into the
building, yelling for the people within to stay where they were. His
cry was answered with a bolt of blue light cutting
through the air and shattering the door trim by Worf's
shoulder. The Klingon's phaser waved in the air before
him as Lan Mathli and then Sela entered,
their weapons also out and ready. From a rear corner
shouts and shuffling feet were heard in the damp, humid
room. The disruptor blast missed the four as each
went diving under tables behind support pillars.
Taking rapid aim, Worf let out two bursts
of phaser fire and knew he had made contact with
something. A door was pushed back by the impact of the
coherent beam of light and the second shot seemed
to find a living target.
He looked to his left and saw the smile from
Lan Mathli. "Nice shot, Worf."
Worf grunted and asked, "What are they
firing?" "I don't know. Nothing we have used in our
battles even remotely matches that kind of
energy." She crawled forward, gaining more of Worf's
admiration.
Sela's disruptor fired next, also reaching a
target, but in the process shattering a rear window.
More matching, high-pitched blue bolts emitted from
the room and those, too, shattered windows and light
panels. This, in turn, set off the sprinkler
system, dousing everyone with water coming down at high
pressure. Sela shrieked in frustration and let
off two dism shots, at least one of which hit a
shadowy figure in the rear area of the
building.
Then, to Data's surprise, Sela launched
herself forward, firing her disruptor rapidly, trying
single-handedly to bring down the suspects. Her
moves, he considered, were reckless but showed her
warrior spirit on full display. Sela's lithe
body moved quickly, covering ground and leaping over
tables, avoiding the taller plants. However, she
seemed not to heed the diswarning blasts that came from the
back of the build-rag. One such shot managed
to clip a support beam, and the piece of metal
twisted and bent. With a groan of tearing steel, the
heavy piece tore free and started to fall toward the
unsuspecting Sela.
Worf had perhaps two seconds to make his
decision. He knew Data was too far away and
Lan Mathli was pinned down in the rear by additional
enemy gunfire. Sela was certainly going to be
injured if not killed.
Without hesitation he leapt into the air, grabbed
Sela's right arm, and yanked her down between two.
tables, letting the steel beam crash atop three
other tables, shattering plants, stands, and recording
equipment. He and Sela crumpled in a heap,
getting even. more soaked by a growing puddle
of water. Bright eyes glared at Worf but he
merely stared down at her.
"Why did you do that?" she asked, the hard edge in
voice missing for a moment.
"I was assigned to work with you and that meant offering you
my protection as well," Worf said stiffly.
"Klingon honor, too, demands my behavior."

Sela stared at him oddly as he moved away from
the Romulan, putting as much distance away from her as
possible while still searching for a strategic position.
Worf noticed that Lan Mathli had used the
brief interruption in the firefight to crouch and
maneuver to a better position near the left side
of the building: There, she was spraying off several
rounds from her projectile weapon, all of which made
loud cracking. sounds, most unlike the high whine
of a disruptor or phaser. No one would be able
to emerge from the building while she was there.
Worf crept along the sidewall, inching his way
toward the rear section, ignoring Data's low
approach. underneath the tables. Both would reach the rear
about the same time, and it was important for both to act
in tandem. As both grew closer to the rear of the
buildingeatilde Worf knelt low, moving slower,
allowing Data to rendezvous with him. The
synthezoid stopped his motion to listen to the back
room. There was obviously no exit since there was still
a lot of scrambling heard. Moans were also
present, meaning people were hurt by flying glass or the
return fire.
Dripping water continued to fall, enlarging small
pools throughout the building. To complete this action without
causing further injury, they would have to move quickly
to contain the people, and hope Worf's formidable size would
deter the even larger Elohsians.
Reaching the last row of tables, Data remained
beneath, trying to catch Worf's eye. When he did,
the android indicated he would go first and Worf should
follow. The Klingon nodded slowly and then waited for
Data's signal. A golden hand chopped the air,
and Data sprang from beneath the table and rushed into the
room, his phaser before him. Worf immediately followed,
aiming his phaser in the opposite direction, intending
to cover the entire room.
Within, two men lay on the ground, holding
places on their bodies where they were hit. Their
blood was mixing with the water, adding another hue to the
room. Two other men were rapidly stuffng data
disks and papers into a rectangular black box
while the final person, a woman, took
aim at Data. Before she could fire, though,
Worf's phaser rang out and the woman crumpled.
Almost at that instant, the roof literally fell in.
During the fire fight enough of the support beams were
damaged or obliterated that the roof could no longer be
held up, and it finally caved in. With it came
sunlight and the sound of wildlife. The crash was
deafening as pieces of roof crushed tables,
experiments, and files. There was also a cry almost
lost amid the cacophony.
Again without hesitation, Worf tossed pieces of
stone behind him and worked his way down until he found
Lan Mathli, nearly unconscious under the weight
of the roof. She moaned softly and was bleeding
profusely from her head and arms. Her left leg was
twisted at entirely the wrong angle. As
carefully as he could, Worf continued to remove
debris and then picked up the woman warrior and
carried her into the other room, which was unscathed,
Data had already placed the people inside under arrest and was
securing the remaining information in a large black
box. Worf barely took note of the situation as
he laid Lan Mathli down and studied her
injuries closely. Sela walked to the other side
of the table and observed quietly for a moment
before something caught her eye.
The Romulan walked over to a fallen weapon
almost obscured by a chair, and knelt down to examine
it. "It's a modified disruptor," she announced.
Data looked over at it, sparing it little more than
a glance. "Consistent with a theory that is forming," he
said and returned his attention to securing the box for
transport.
"What do you mean?" she demanded tilde "Commander,
time does not allow me to go into an explanation. I
would prefer that we vacate the building before it
continues to fall apart." To punctuate the statement,
more sounds of twisting material and shattering glass
came from the main room. Everyone began working a little
faster, including the annoyed but prudent Sella
Worf had already called to the Enterprise and asked for
Lan Mathli to be beamed directly to sickbay.
He accompanied her, so it left Data and Sela
alone to complete their search of the room. As the

second officer rounded a corner, he stopped
to study one of the men slumped against a wall..
"You are Wain, from the parliament," he announced.
WITHIN AN HOUR, there was bedlam in the
parliament building. Picard sat back in
Daithin's office and watched the tide of
emotion build as accusations flew, safeguard
officers sifted through documents, and parliamentary
officials demanded instant answers to impossible
questions. Larkin was holding his own, coordinating the
information flow from his crowded office directly
into Daithin's private room where Picard,
Sela, and the premier awaited each new shred of
evidence. As Picard maintained a relaxed pose
in a deeply cushioned straight-back chair,
Sela took the opposite approach and remained
ramrod-straight against the wall, seemingly poised
to spring. No one was saying much and Picard was just as
content to await information and make no assumptions.
He was confident that Data could make sense of the
information found in the black box on that faraway
continent that seemed so idyllic from orbit.
He paused to note that Sela, although still dripping
wet, remained in command, regal, and still very
attractive. She was so much her mother's daughter that
he idly wondered what her father must have been like.
Those thoughts were banished when Data was admitted
to the room by Larkin, who closed the door and remained
within the office to hear the report from the Federation
officers. Sela, Picard, and Daithin all edged
a little closer, eager for the report which was about
to be delivered.
Curiously, it was Larkin who spoke first. "We
have obtained the identities of the four people with Wain on
Delpine Dar. They are members of what they call
The Assembly, a political group that exists
to promote Eloh's isolation from other races."
"What?" Daithin cried. "How could we not know
this... group exists? Have they done anything else
to our people?"
"Apparently not," Data replied. "The
Assembly's conleader, a woman called
Jasmia, swears the two incidents to date are
all they have managed to accomplish."
Picard nodded, thankful that everyone else on
Eloh would be spared further pain. Daithin seemed
to echo the notion and nodded while Sela sat
impassively.
"We discovered the materials required to make the
ceramic casings for the firebombs plus an
additional supply of the chemical compound," Data
added. "Safeguard officers are continuing to study the
disks we found, hoping it provides a complete
list of their membership."
Sela stood up and announced, "Then the
Romulans can be cleared of any
wrongdoing."
"So it would seem," Daithin began to say.
Picard was surprised by this since so many other questions
remained unanswered. Still, Daithin was the leader and
he would have to defer to the local authority.
"Not necessarily," Data said, stunning all.
"You see, Premier, by studying what we found today,
I was able to understand the entire operation that much better.
It answered some questions that bothered me after reviewing
Commander La Forge's tricorder readings at the
purification plant."
Sela's eyes closed to slits and she studied
the. android. "What do you mean?"
"The explosive that was used in the purification
plant was something entirely different from that which
destroyed part of this town," Data explained.
Picard felt himself settling in for another lengthy
explanation that would no doubt east new light on the
entire week's activities. He had to hand it
to Sherlock Data for being indefatigable and adding things
up where few others could.
"This, I suspect, was on purpose so no one
could substantially link the two bombings beyond
coincidence. We never did determine how the first
explosive' was set off. No piece of a
timing mechanism was ever found despite a considerable
amount of electrical material which managed
to survive. Commander La Forge had correctly
theorized that a signal had to be engaged to detonate
the bomb, on a frequency not usually used on this
planet so it could not be detected. Based on my
studies of the remains, I believe they add up to a
design activated by the low band frequencies used
by Romulan communicators."
"What gives you that idea?" Sela demanded, her
face reflecting her fury.
"When you used the silent signal last night,
to return to the warbird, I made note of it with the
tricotder."
"You were spying on me?" she demanded. "Studying a
potential adversary," Data replied calmly.
"The signal matched my theoretical frequency
for the detonation. Rebuilding the device under
controlled conditions can prove that one way or the
other."
"There are also the matters of one missing
Romulan, and the technology being used to make the
firebombs, and the disruptors we just captured,"
Worf added, seeming to enjoy annoying Sela
despite their earlier close encounter.
"If there is enough evidence to suspect Romulan
involvement in both incidents, Premier, I
believe this bears further investigation," Picard
said, sounding as sympathetic as possible to the leader.
Sela stalked the room and glared at Data.
She nearly yelled when she said, "1 thought we were
allied in this, android!"
"We are," Data said.
"But you accuse me of terrorism!"
Data shook his head. "I do not accuse you,
Commander, because you are not the responsible party. But the
evidence clearly indicates a Romulan was
beinvolved in this."
Picard watched Sela stop in her tracks, still
quietly dripping water from her thickly padded
uniform, and pay attention to Data's reasoning. Her
myriad emotions raced across her face, and the
experienced captain suddenly found her difficult
to read. He found himself enjoying watching her,
intrigued by her very being.
"You are as determined as anyone to find the true
culprits," Daithin said, sounding conciliatory.
"Your work with Commander Data, to think, proves your
sincerity. Just as you cannot blame all of Eloh for
what has happened, I don't blame you
for the action of another Romulan, if that is the
truth."
Sela, barely mollified by the words, frostily
replied, "Thank you, Premier. I will, of
course, want to remain close to the investigation."
Daithin agreed and asked Larkin to oversee the
interrogation of the prisoners, except Waln, who was
to be brought to the office. Larkin left the room
quickly, and then the premier addressed the remaining people.
"These are suddenly very difficult times, you must
understand. I knew Wain a very long time, and will want
to hear his words myself. You are free to remain at
Parliament and consult on the investigations. We'll
speak again later,"
Picard knew a dismissal when he heard one, and
led his people out of the office, Sela sullenly following
behind them. Out in the hall, Picard found himself next
to the Romulan and wasn't sure what to say. She
seemed preoccupied by the implication of her people's
complicity and appeared angry and volatile. The
wrong statement could provoke a new round of
hostilities, something he did not want at all.
Instead, Picard turned to his officers.
"I appreciate your work, Mr. Data.
You're free to return to the Enterprise.
Please file your report with Commander Riker. I
will remain here until we know what will happen
next."
The officer acknowledged the directions and went out
of the building with Worf to beam up without distraction.
Sela watched them depart and Picard studied her,
wondering what she would do with this newfound knowledge.
A burly safeguard, looking too big for his
dark green uniform, walked into Daithin's office with
Wain standing helplessly before him. The Elohsian
premier thanked the guard and dismissed him, remaining
standing and just looking at Wain.
"I'm in a very bad mood today, Wain," Daithin
began. "I didn't sleep last night and I
ache. I think it was the wound I received on the
Jerinthian coast that bothers me the most."
Wain remained silent and Daithin stopped looking
directly at him. He addressed a spot on the
wall directly behind the old comrade. "We have
served a long time in this building. Our careers go
back even further, Wain. I still recall meeting
you on the first shipload of troops from Hyanth. My
own division needed the support and there you were, on
the front lines, ready and willing to do whatever it
took to regain my city. Since then, our
children have grown up together and I thought I knew you, my
friend. What can you say for yourself?."
Wain stood silent, looking out the window and
seeming to ignore the words. He no longer looked like
the proud statesman Daithin was used to seeing in
Parliament day after day. Wain looked old and
beaten. The realization reminded Daithin of his own
recent thoughts about aging, and he recognized their time
might be coming to a close together. He had to steer his people
on a path and then step aside, letting a younger
generation continue forward. The time was rapidly coming for
Daithin to go home and reflect on a full career.
It had been a proud one and a life that historians
would approve of whenever they reviewed this era.
For his friend, no doubt history would be a harsh
judge.
"How can I make you understand?" Waln asked in a
sad, weary voice. "I agreed with you that the time had
come to end the war. Not because of some possible new race
of space beings, but because we had done enough damage
to each other. War was being fought for no real reason
anymore, and in the end we just seized those promises
of a galactic future because it came at the right time.
"But I never wanted us to go from Eloh, jewel of
our system, to Eloh, member of some other
government, a game piece in someone else's
plan. When Nefor started discussing these feelings at
our table, I listened. It was my son and the others that
first formed The Assembly--an answer to your
overcelebrated unity. I considered that your course
of action might be wrong, and Nefor convinced me of it.
I... I began to attend Assembly meetings,
listening to young firebrands discussing how our destiny should
be left up to them, the people of tomorrow. We're old
warriors and we're old thinkers. Their words rang
true, Daithin, and I supported them fully."
"But to kill, Wain?" Daithin remained
incredulous. "We didn't intend for that to happen,"
Wain said. "We didn't know how destructive these
weapons would be. The supplies we received didn't
come with instructions, just words."
"Now we're getting to the crux of the matter. You
obtained Romulan materials, Wain, meaning you
had contact with them. Who? How? Did you hire the
mercenary or did the Romulans? Was the Federation
involved at all?"
Wain shook his head with fatigue. His eyes shut
and he seemed to be having trouble controlling his
emotions, which had always been close to the surface.
"What difference does it make, Daithin?
Something went horribly wrong and now my life is
ruined." He seemed ready to cry, something, in all
their years together, Daithin had never seen before. It
made him feel very sad to see his friend crumble before
him.
"You asked me why the rush." Daithin's new
tack caused Wain to look directly at the
premier.
"I am suffering from more than my aches, I fear.
I am dying and I cannot let this world devolve back
to bickering children. They are so close to reigniting the
civil war, still unwilling to admit either side was
wrong all these centuries. We deny ourselves a
future. Our place is in the stars, Wain.
We've suffered too long, and too hard, not to take
our place out there. Will we be as powerful as our new
neighbors? I don't know. But I do know I
want a chance to improve conditions here, and to do that we
as a people need help.
"Like it or not, Wain, I am going to make a
recommendation and Parliament will cast a vote. We
have no more time to examine the governments represented
here. In days we will be aligning ourselves with one side
or the other. I want to make an intelligent
choice, one that will benefit our world." The
leader of Eloh's parliament took a deep breath
and leaned forward, looking Wain directly in the
eye, and then whispered his plea. "Help me with the
facts." Daithin then returned to his seat,
silently watching his friend, feeling older by the moment.
Sela stood near Larkin's office, appearing like
a cat ready to pounce on its prey. Her arms
tightly crossed before her, Picard idly wondered
what she would be like if she ever lowered her guard and
relaxed. Instead, he turned his attentions toward
Larkin, watching as the aide worked furiously,
scribbling notes on a blotter, typing instructions
into his computer, and assessing information while also
shouting orders. If there was a real secret power on
Eloh, it resided with Larkin. Daithin might
guide the people on the big issues, he noted, but the
little people like Larkin kept the planet moving.
Picard's reverie was interrupted when the premier
came out of his office, holding a shaken Wain by the
arm. Neither man looked happy, he noted, and a
grimness masked Daithin's face. The imposing
safeguard officer took Wain into the next
building's security wing, and Daithin allowed himself
a moment alone. He then turned to Sela, still leaning
against a wall, and gestured for her to follow.
The officer then beckoned toward Picard to do as
well.
Once inside the office Daithin did not take
his usual seat, but instead stared out of his window, hands
clasped behind his back. Picard watched and a feeling
of empathy washed over him. In just a matter of
days, he had watched a man he had come to respect
grow old. The great warrior was becoming an old
man, and he found it an unpleasant picture.
"Wain has finally explained things to me," the
premier began moments after the door closed. "It
appears that the mercenary was brought here secretly,
aboard the warbird, and deposited in that bunker your
men found, Captain."
"Impossible? Sela blurted.
Daithin patted the air with one hand and said with a
voice that seemed drained of vitality, "Hear me
out, Commander. He was the one to bring the bombs,
detonation devices, signals, and so forth. I
don't understand all the technology used, but that man
did. The bunker was built by that isolationist group and
it was all very well arranged. Wain says the
mercenary was in the employ of a Romulan officer,
one the man boasted of being well placed aboard the
ship. I need Commander Sela to name that
man."
Sela raged, "I know of no such officer that would
be a party to this! Our standards of security are
exacting tilde it would take one of my top three
officers to manage such a feat." She stopped a
moment, withdrew her own communicator, and signaled
the n ventnat.
Moments later, the figure of Plactus
shimmered into view and he saluted his superior. Before
the salute was complete, Sela launched into a terse
explanation of the situation. Plactus did not display
any emotion whatsoever during the explanation and
Sela could not tell what the man was thinking. Picard
and Daithin remained in the office, quietly letting
the Romulan take charge.
"So, Plactus, can you tell me something of what
happened aboard my ship?"
"Of course, Commander, I was responsible for the
human being here."
Picard and Daithin shared looks of astonishment and
Sela, glaring at the officer, demanded, "Explain
yourself!"
"If you wish," he continued calmly. His
composure was first-rate, she thought, watching. him.
"First, you, should understand that what I did was not
supposed to result in what eventually happened.
Second, I want to formally state that I am with the
Tal Shiar and my actions were done with approval."
He removed the dreaded Tal Shiar symbol from a
pocket and affixed it to his padded shoulder.
Sela watched, speechless and uncertain of what was
to be. revealed next.
Daithin leaned over and asked Picard, "What's
that mean, this Tal Shiar?""
"The Tal Shiar is the Romulan Imperial
Intelligence. branch, which has no love for the
military portion of the government. They have incredible
influence throughout the Empire and work mainly through fear
and an iron fist. They also trust no one."
"My orders," Plactus continued, "were to win
Eloh by any means necessary. Our plan was to provide
people with "gifts" that would show them our strength and our
sincerity. The faction I dealt with assured me that
they had great influence within Parliament. I appear
to have been misled."
"And why wasn't I told of this?"
Plactus changed his stance, allowing his pose
to attain more authority, and he seemed to grow into this
newly revealed position. "Because you, Commander, were
bait. We knew of your history with the
Enterprise and suspected Captain Picard would
spend more time watching you than any of us. It gave us
certain freedoms, such as placing the mercenary in
position and smuggling down the "gifts.""
A pawn.
Picard did not expect the commander to have fallen so
far, but there it was. He glanced surreptitiously
her way, allowing her a little privacy to collect
her dignity. Instead, she looked ready to rip
Plactus apart with her bare hands. However, she
stood paralyzed by this information. They could not have done
worse, Picard mused, had they dressed her as a
courtesan and beamed her directly to his quarters.
Everything she had done, he realized, to maintain the
honor of the Romulan Empire and best Picard
at his own game was actually a sideshow, meant
to amuse Starfleet while the real work was done by a
subcommander... no, Plactus, a Tal Shiar
major.
"Plactus--Major Plactus I gather--
what happened with the isolationist sect?" The question from
Picard was asked quietly, probing for more information and
obviously designed to allow Sela a chance
to collect her thoughts.
Plactus gave him a cold smile.
"Captain Picard, I have no reason to hide what
has happened here and will be more than happy to explain
everything to you. The people that contacted us after Premier
Daithin's invitation indicated that they wielded
considerable political power. The Tal Shiar
decided that Eloh must be won over to the Romulan
Empire. We felt that whatever enticements were
asked for was worth the effort. Further, it was agreed
that our involvement should remain anonymous. The
mercenary was easily bought and used by" our people. My
aide, Centurion Telorn, secreted him about the
N'ventnar and transported him to the planet well
before your starship entered the system."
"Telorn is Tal Shiar? Is that why she has
gone missing?" Sela asked, her voice quiet,
reining in her anger.
"No, Commander. She was a loyal Romulan
offtcer who recognized that my influence over her
career would be more beneficial than yours," Piactus
replied matter-of-factly. "She gave her life
for the Empire, as any good soldier would."
"Who killed my officer?" Sela demanded, the
fury once again threatening to unleash itself in
unproductive ways.
"The isolationists did not like having the
Federation looking into the firebombing, and I dispatched
her to calm them down. A fight broke out and she
died. In fact, Premier, I would very much like her
body found and beamed aboard my ship."
"My ship!" Sela cried out. "I am the
captain of the N'ventnar and don't you forget that.
You've cost me much today. There will be plenty for us
to discuss when this is concluded. You' and your kin will not
be pleased."
Major Plactus cocked a slanted eyebrow,
obviously amused. "Interesting threat, Commander. It
shall indeed be an interesting discussion."
Daithin stepped forward, trying to regain some command
over the proceedings even though they appeared to be
spiraling further out of control. "Major, I would
very much like to know what happened. How were you duped, and
by whom?"
"Good questions, Premier," replied the major, a
touch of condescension creeping into his voice. "You
Elohsians are a craftier breed than I had
given you credit for. I was lured to your world by a group
called The Assembly and was allowed to arm this
militant faction that passed itself off as allies.
Instead, they would just as soon see my people hurl themselves
into your sun, right after the Enterprise. They
are a violent group, Premier, and must be brought
under control before more of your own lives are lost."
"What happened to your mercenary, this man
Stormcloud?" Picard inquired.
"The Assembly doesn't like anyone, nor
does it trust anyone, Captain," Major
Plactus replied. "I gather he was under
surveillance and when your men began investigating the
plant explosion, they killed him to ensure that their
secret remained hidden. He, unlike Telorn,
was eminently expendable."
"And before any more Romulans lose their lives,
eh?" Picard asked, a satirical tone edging
into his voice.
"Of course, Captain. I wish this matter to be
concluded quickly and for the parliament to make a decision."
Plactus stood still, looking self-satisfied and
triumphant.
"How can you expect me to make any sort of
recommendation given what I've learned today?"
Daithin argued. "I don't know what to think. I do
know this: I want everyone off my world. Right now.
We'll try and find you your corpse, Major
Plactus, but for the moment I wish you all to leave--
now."
Recognizing that there would be no further discussion,
the Federation and Romulan representatives
returned to their respective ships. Daithin
watched them vanish into the air, privately wishing
he could do the same.
"What have I done to my people, Larkin?" he asked
quietly.
"What you've always done," Larkin answered in a
similar tone. "You thought this was best for our world, and so
it seemed,"
"How many lives have I cost us this week?"
"The count doesn't matter, you know. That's the
past. We can bury our dead but now, my friend the
Premier, what will you do tomorrow?"
"I don't know. I just don't know."
"MY PEOPLE," Daithin began, "we have much
to consider in a very short amount of time. After today's
vote, our parliament will adjourn and our holiday
may begin. With luck it will be peaceful; yes,
peaceful after all we have endured these last few days.
It'll be a terrible time to bury and remember our
dead. But we have survived and prevailed, and we will
do so again today. Our final presentations will be
transmitted live throughout our unified world and the
vote will take place only hours later.
Listen carefully, my friends, for this is a day for
history."
Picard heard the opening remarks only dimly,
preferring to mentally review his notes and remarks.
He already knew of the import behind the appearance this
morning and did not need to be reminded. The past few
days were tension-filled enough to leave him feeling in something
less than peak condition. His mind was too often
crowded with the random images of violence and accusations,
and the haunting, cold smile of Commander Sela. He
had to succeed, and to do so, draw upon his theatrical
experience as a final fallbaclc As when Sela
spoke, the parliament was packed. X. had taken the
premier at least ten minutes to bring the meeting
to order and launch into his own explanation of events
by way of preamble. He was occasionally shouted down with
questions, and the leader bravely answered all that he could.
Gesturing toward Larkin, he had made the promise
that the entire chronology of events would be posted on
the world net before sundown. Also, the chief
safeguards were rounding up the leaders of The
Assembly, and they would be made to pay for their
crimes against the people of Eloh.
Picard wondered, though, whether the very existence of
an isolationist group would alter anyone's
thinking. Larkin had explained that morning about shifting
public opinion and how, according to Conductor Luth at
the main computer center on Carinth Dar, people were
reexamining their interest in space. This might then
influence the parliament, which was scheduled to confer with their
home sectors and vote the following morning. Within
twenty-four hours, he realized, the planet's
future would be decided, making the presentation now
under way all the more critical.
Taking a very deep breath, Picard sIowly let
it out, pushed stray thoughts away, and rose to address
the planet.
"tilde want to thank Premier Daithin for
succinctly explaining yesterday's developments to you
all," Pi-card finally began. "Eloh is seen
by the Romulans as a great prize. A world that much
closer to the United Federation of Planet's sphere
of influence. It would be a lie to say that my
government does not see this world the same way. If
you are certain you want an intergalactic alliance,
so be it. I will spend this morning explaining the
Federation to you and will answer your questions about our intentions.
No gifts, no promises I can't keep, and
certainly no more pyrotechnics." That last comment
elicited a chuckle in the crowd and
Picard was pleased to see that people were not being too
high-strung about the session. An unamused Worf
had personally overseen the security requirements and
had chosen to remain nearby, just in case. Picard was
just as glad to see Worf beam down with the injured, but
recuperating, Lan Mathli. According to his security
chief, she was an honorable fighter--quite high

praise from the Klingon.
"We respect a planet's right
to self-determination. Our principles allow member
worlds to exercise their own laws, but we ask that
member worlds subscribe to a core set of standard
beliefs. For example, we respect the right of an
individual to have free speech and a free expression
of belief. Subjugation of any basic right is seen
as contrary to the nature of the Federation charter."
Pieard continued to explain about the Federation's
history, its borders, and recent accomplishments.
He recognized that technologically this world was far
behind the Federation, but he also knew it was hungry
to catch up. Also understanding their recent past, he
made certain to emphasize Starfleet's role in
planetary defense and its ability to respond
swiftly to distress calls. He chose not to dwell
on starfleet's military skills or its
clashes with the Romulans. Instead, he discussed the
deepening alliance with the Klingon Empire which had
stabilized the galactic peace for several
decades. Such cooperation through peaceful means was a
perfect example, in Picard's mind, of what the
Federation was all about.
Looking out around the room, Picard chose not to
were'-HE ROMULAN STRATAGEM
try and read the Parliament's reactions. Just as
easily as they could be swayed by his words so, too,
could they change their minds when Sela spoke next.
Instead, he did allow himself to take several peeks
at Sela herfi She sat to the side, apart from the
other Romulans who were clustered in the gallery.
Attired in her formal outfit, Sela was composed but
also riveted to Picard. Her gaze was impassive
and his words seemed not to affect her one way or the
other. On the other hand, not once did she look
away. Could his words actually penetrate?
"Some of you have been on my ship, and others have
attended the banquet in our honor," Picard
continued. "My ship has representatives from
thirteen different races aboard, including the only
member of a recently recognized life-form." He
was speaking about Data, for whom Picard
proudly dishelped achieve such recognition from the
Federation just a few years ago. "We cherish new
life and new civilizations, those very words being the
credo of my ship. The Enterprise is a proud name
in Federation history and my crew is upholding those
traditions of exploration and valor. Just being here and
helping introduce ourselves to you is a significant
honor."
The talk lasted a good forty-five minutes, and
then the questions began. Some members of Parliament had
read up on the information supplied to them by the
Starfleet Diplomatic Corps, while others
had obviously heard innuendo from the Romulans.
Picard found himself being asked to defend the Federation's
policies when it came to relations with "hostile"
races such as the Tholians or the Romulans
themselves. Again, he stole a glance toward Sela, who
seemed to show disdain for his defense of Federation
policies.
Her hatred was missing, and without it her blue
eyes seemed changed, less energized--more human.
Some others were concerned about having to answer to a
Federation charter with no say in its construction. One
went so far as to question how a world in need of catching up
could possibly be well represented within the
Federation. Picard deftly handled each question,
remaining calm and unflappable.
Larkin had explained to him that the parliament would
conduct immediate polling of the people, with some hosting their own
eIectronic forums. Opinion makers would be
trying desperately to express their views and sway
the people, who in turn would sway Parliament. The
nature of a united Eloh was still very new, and the
cacophony of politics was unsettling to Picard,
who had witnessed more than his share of such matters in the
past few days. He had also grown weary of
politics and was pleased the entire affair was winding
down.
When the last of the questions was answered,. Picard
took the moment to sum up his thoughts--his final
official attempt to win the world. "I was not sure
what to expect when I arrived on Eloh just a few
days ago. Was this a world still at war with itself?. Could this
world have truly rebuiRather itself in just a few short
years? I ask myself similar questions each time I
visit a new planet. I'll share something with you
all: the answers are never the ones I expect.
Never. The reason is that there are new things I had
not previously considered or'even dreamt abcggut.
Learning something new each time out, finding
something wonderful about every place I have visited--those
are the things that have driven me to explore space for
nearly four decades.
"I want to show you that universe and share the
exploration with you. To do that, you need to be free enough
to join me and sure enough of yourselves and your precious
unity to step forward into a new era on Eloh. It
cannot be done by you alone, not today. We can help you
achieve that future so many of you have told me about.
You want to find a place for yourselves in the galaxy,
and I honestly believe that the Federation can point you in
the right direction.
"I truly hope that we are allowed that singular
andmiddot; honor. Thank you."
Picard finished and the room was absolutely
silent. Moments ticked by and he noticed one pair
of eyes after another looked past him toward the dais
where Daithin sat prominently. Slowly, Picard
turned his head and glanced up at the premier.
To his surprise, those large eyes of Daithin's
were welling up with tears. He had hoped to deliver
stirring words, but certainly not something that emotional.
But, just as he finished saying, he never quite knew what
to expect on new worlds.
Daithin stood, smiling and gesturing to the
crowd. One by one, the people stood, smiling at Picard
and expressing their unified joy at his words. He
had little doubt that he had given the speech his best
effort and it was well met.
However, given the events of the preceding days, very
quickly a nagging thought formed in the back of his mind. This
may have been his best shot, but what if it was not good
enough?
Sela had listened intently as Picard spoke.
In her own mind, much of what he said was true and
painted the Federation in the best possible light. She
also privately scoffed at the gloss he put over
the Starfleet's dealings with hostile races. The
holier-than-thou Federation was a gathering of sheep, just
grazing until the slaughter at Romulus's hand.
Picard was masterful, she admitted. In fact,
it made her review her own preparations and find them
wanting. After all, she had done so well the other
day without extensive preparation she had presumed it
would simply be a repeat performance. Yet,
Picard's words reached her and made her rethink her
position toward the Enterprise captain. Oh yes,
he did cost her much back home, but his spirit,
conviction, and sincerity also carried weight. She had
listened and considered his words, saw his
approach to the parliament and the cameras. There was no
doubt this was a man convinced he had the most to offer.
He did this selfiessly, she realized, while
she, in turn, wanted this world for her people and her career.
And they were her people. In the end, that was going to count more
than Picard's pretty words or his manner. The
Federation abandoned her mother and they would pay, starting with
losing Elo.
"Our people can trace its history back only one
thousand years," Sela said. "We certainly can't
claim the same sense of perspective that Eloh
can, and for that you can be thankful. History is a great
teacher and lessons Iearned once can avoid
problems in the future. The recently concluded
conflict on Eloh means that future generations can
learn to put aside differences and prosper."
Parliamentarians sat up straighter, some leaning
in. Her words seemed to draw them closer and Sela
noted Picard also leaned forward just a bit. She was
going to give him a show.
"Whereas the conflict on Eloh could have destroyed
your world, you had no alternative but to settle and
unify. A millennium ago, we had a different
choice.
My people abandoned Vulcan, set out
into space to confront the great unknowns. We wanted
a world where we could tame the environment and be in command
as a race. That world, Romulus, stands as a beacon
of light in a dim corner of the known galaxy. How
I wish you could all see it. The world is beautiful
and I can still remember the thrill I received the first time
I was taken to see the firefalls of Gal
Gath'thong.
"Our people grew as did our prosperity. We
slowly started to spread that prosperity throughout our
sector, settling Remus and forming the core of the
Romulan Star Empire. People with like ideals and
goals joined us and we grew powerful. That power
meant invaders could be more easily repelled and our
authority was respected. In time, the name Romulan
stood for something, and we proudly stand behind the name today.
"I am deeply ashamed for the mark against my people, a
mark made by an overeager officer who wanted this world
more than he wanted his selfearespect. You may
trust me that no race--be it Romulan,
Federation, or othermis perfect. Just as not every
citizen of Eloh is pure-hearted nor is every
citizen a cutthroat. Your place in time means that
you are witnesses to something extraordinary. As you join
the starfaring races of the galaxy be aware that
each planet possesses a point of view, and at
times those points of view come inffconflict with one
another. Such is the way between us and the Federation. We
and they can offer you wonderful things, from protection
to technology. You will have to ask yourselves a series of
questions having to do with location, point of view, the
future... all the things that will slowly lead you to a
conclusion. With that, you may vote wisely." Sela
concluded with a few more conciliatory remarks and then
she, too, took questions. Picard had sat back,
openly amazed at Sela's oratory skills.
That's just my first victory today,. she decided. She
was smug tilde knowing that she gave the speech of a
career and[ crafted it in such a way that it would help
the parliament ask itself the very questions required to, lead
them to the conclusion that Romulus was the better home.
The questions from the Elohsians were just as pointed for her
as they were for Picard. There remained concern over
occupying forces and restriction of Elohsian space
travel. She deftly handled the questions with a touch of
humor and tried hard to take a reading from the
expressions of those assembled. It was tough to read them
and the questions did seem a little harder-edged than she had
hoped. When her time ended some ten minutes later,
she could not tell for sure if she had
carried the day.
James Kelly was completing his studies for the day
when he noted the message light had blinked on.
He immediately accessed his private mailbox and was
shocked to see a message from Ensign Ro.
It said, "I seriously misjudged your desire
to take me to the dance. I apologize for rejecting
your invitation. But if it remains, I will gladly
accept. Please meet me in my quarters tomorrow
night to escort me."
Escort her! James was pretty certain he
would get down on hands and knees and carry her to the
event. Hands shot back through his unruly hair and
he began to think about things to wear... a gift
to bring... whether Riker had any other ideas now that
he'd gotten this far... would there be enough time before tomorrow...
would tomorrow ever get here soon enough?
Dawn came all too quickly for Picard. He
had stayed up later than he had wanted. Upon
returning to the Enterprise, the captain had invited
his command staff to a private meal. He had found
himself in need of companionship that was not fractious.
The dinner went off exceedingly well and he had found
himself deep in discussion with Crusher, La Forge, and
even Worf until quite late. Still, it was a
conversation and exchange of ideas that he cherished as he
refined and sharpened the memory of that talk. Moving
through a hurried morning routine that did not allow time
for his ritual breakfast with Beverly, Picard
grudgingly allowed concerns and speculation over
Eloh to creep back into his consciousness.
Fighting to keep a troubled expression from his
face, Picard all too quickly found himself on the
transporter pad being beamed back down to Eloh,
perhaps for the last time. As he shimmered in the light,
Picard contemplated the scenery and envied Troi and
La Forge the time they had to go exploring around this world.
Next visit, he mused, he would allow dis^th two
to attend the meetings and let him explore the
countryside.
Larkin was waiting for Picard at the accustomed
beam-down spot, looking completely unruffled by the
past five days' events or the coolness of the
season. His officious manner and subdued mode of
dress had also been Unchanged, and Picard had come
to expect nothing but efficiency from the colorless man.
With a gesture, the adjutant allowed Picard
to walk into the parliament building. As he complied, the
captain noted that safeguard officers seemed to be
in abundance: a wise precaution, no
doubt.
"Have things calmed down yet?" Picard casually
asked. Larkin considered a moment. "It's not like it was
before the N'ventnar came into orbit but certainIy
better than yesterday."
"You don't necessarily like us being here, do you?"
Again Larkin paused and collected his thoughts.
Looking down at Picard, the slightly taller
man said, "I'm amazed at how quickly I grew
used to having aliens walk among us. I just don't
know if I want them telling us how to live our
lives."
Picard gave him a concerned look. "I thought
I had made it clear your destiny would be your own."
"So you say. So they say. Words, Captain.
Yours and theirs. I've had my fill of them."
Larkin silently opened the door for the captain and
then stepped aside. This was going to be a private
session; just two people would first hear the decision. As
Picard understood it, Parliament had debated the
issues, polled their constituents through the computer
networks, and then returned last night for a vote.
The tallies were routed directly to Daithin's
personal office computer, and he could either accept the
decision of Parliament or veto it and
make his own. Then, the results would be made
public, along with the premier's verdict.
Picard could not tell by walking with Larkin which way
the vote had gone--there was no overt change in his
demeanor or that of the safeguards. The integrity of the
vote seemed intact and he was getting anxious for the
pronouncement, Inside the office, Daithin immediately
stood and greeted Picard with a broad smile,
once again showing off well-maintained white teeth
against the dark skin. "Sit, Captain, please.
Commander Sela is just now beaming down. Marvelous
device, you know, just marvelous. I'm very glad
we'll be able to gain access to the technology."
Picard took his usual seat in the smallish
office and glanced out the window. Already, an army of
workers was clearing the rubble from the fire and rebuilding
their city. They were certainly a hearty race of
survivors and knew when it was time to argue and time
to stop fighting and get down to work. This was a race that
could easily adjust to new circumstances, and had
to after decades of war. This was an admirable trait,
and one that would make them eager participants in either
government.
After refusing a hot drink, Picard and Daithin
talked around the issue at stake and waited
a few minutes before Larkin ushered Sela into the
room. The door closed softly and the moment had
finally arrived.
Picard glanced over at Sela as she took her
seat, hands clasped over her lap. She seemed
serene and totally in control over the situation. Her
confidence was enormous and also appealing when studied in
the abstract.
Daithin stood from his place behind the desk, looked
down at the alien representatives before him, and
sighed. "When we first invited you both to visit
Eloh, I could never have imagined what was to happen.
I am sorry that you, Commander, lost a valued
officer to the subterfuge of Major Plactus. And
Captain, I must apologize on behalf of my people
for ever suspecting Commander La Forge. On the
whole, both crews were exemplary and I was
impressed by everyone's candor and willingness
to cooperate.
"Our vote last night was an interesting exercise
in terms of examining just how unified the people of Eloh
had become. Most interesting, indeed, since I
earlier suspected there might be a split vote
along' Populist and Dar lines. Surprising
indeed, since that was not the case. In fact,
the vote in some ways was also a vote on the unity
to see if it could survive a global issue and one
that affected everyone's future equally.
"We voted as one. As the first premier, that means
my job is done. It has given me the confidence
to announce my retirement at the end of my term and
truly hand over the future to a new generation. My
job is done.. 2' He trailed off, realizing
he had truly just made the decision and was surprised
that he had confided in aliens before his family or
friends.
Daithin took a moment to reorganize his thoughts
and tried to hurry things along, aware two very
anxious people were seated before him. Picard and Sela
avoided looking at each other and their gazes rested
uncomfortably on Daithin. "The vote and my
decision are in concurrence, which pleases me. We have
decided to ask for an alliance with the Romulan
Empire."
Sela beamed. Picard frowned.
"May I ask, Premier, what led your world
to such a decision?" Picard asked, keeping his
voice neutral and hiding his shock.
"You've seen my people--the best of us still bickering
over decades-old insults, or imagined
slights to our particular clan. We need Unity!"
"Unity enforced at gunpoint?" Picard asked.
"Yes," Daithin said firmly. "Even that. Our
integration came too fast--we have grown too
dependent technologically. If the old
rivalries were to surface again, it would hurl us
back to the days when we were beating each other senseless
with clubs."
Picard nodded. Part of what Daithin said was
true--he knew that not just from his observations over the
last week but from those of his officers as well.
The Romulans would give them nothing to question, would not
encourage them to think for themselves in any matter. The
Elohsians would be given a path to walk, and would not
be allowed to deviate from it.
Their Unity would be preserved.
But at what cost?
Picard looked at Daithin, and then at Sela.
"Despite the truth I sense in your words,
Premier," Picard said, "I believe that there is
much danger in what you begin here today. I will respect
your decision --but I want you to know that if at any
time, you have cause to reconsider, you have only
to contact us."
"I appreciate that," Daithin said.
He smiled. "I have great respect for you,
Captain. You have dealt with me honestly and with great
honor. While Romulans may feel
aggressively toward you, I do not. May we each
enjoy rich futures and may we never have to face
each other across drawn battle lines."
A feeling of warmth grew in Picard as he
stepped closer to say farewell to the premier.
Philosophical differences aside, he had come
to like Daithin and was sad to realize they would most
likely never see each other again. "Thank you,
Premier. I hope things work out for the best--for you and
Eloh."
Sela who had remained in her chair during the
exchange, now rose.
"Captain Picard, I can honestly say it's
been a pleasure seeing you--this time." She smiled.
"I am hereby officially informing you that Eloh is now
a Romulan protectorate, and as such falls under
the terms of the Federation/romulan Non-Agression
Pact of 2160. You and the Enterprise will have four
hours to leave this system. After such time, your presence
here will be considered a hostile act. And we will
respond accordingly."
"Of that, I have no doubt, Commander,"
Picard nodded. "This round is yours."
"So it is, Captain Picard," she replied.
"No doubt our paths will cross again," he
began. "Surely. After all, I made certain the
Romulan Senate was aware of how their Tal Shiar
major was duped by a powerless faction on the planet
and nearly cost me and them this world. He has been
chastised by them and will soon be by me." The wicked
gleam in her eye cast her face in a cruel
light, which irritated Picard.
"Then you are a pawn no more," he commented.
"Yes. And this victory will certainly be the first step
in a long process. Oh yes, Captain, you will be
hearing from me again."
Not wanting to allow her the time to gloat, Picard
merely turned and left the room. Passing a
curious Larkin, Picard nodded a farewell and
returned to the bright morning sunlight. There, he
tapped his communicator and returned to the
Enterprise without pausing to take a final look
around this beautiful world. His final thoughts before the beam
took him home were about how unspoiled the world seemed
today and what it might look like when the Romulans were
finished moving in.
Moments after stepping off the transporter
platform he signaled he wanted to meet
Counselor Troi and Commander Riker in his
quarters. That in itself was a rarity but Picard did not
feel like being among the crew right then. When the trio
assembled, Troi immediately nodded sympathetically.
"They chose the Romulan Empire," Picard
said softly. He took a seat and seemed to let his
body go limp.
"Any orders?" Riker asked tentatively.
"Follow our plan and prepare to break orbit.
Have the helm get us out of here in an orderly
fashion." "Aye, sir," the first officer said.
"Captain, should we postpone the Newcomers
tilde Dance?" Troi looked hopeful and
sympathetic at the, same time: an interesting
trick, Picard mused.
"I know you timed it assuming we were going
to prevail today, Counselor, but we did not. Still,
we shouldn't avoid our tradition, so proceed."
The officers decided to make a quiet retreat
and set about their business, leaving the captain with his
thoughts, There was just enough time left for Ro to glance in the
mirror and make sure she looked her very best.
She didn't have much time for social amenities like
dating and was unsure of how she wanted
to proceed. Selecting an outfit was not difficult;
her wardrobe was sparse when it came to off-duty
attire, and even rarer was the outfit that matched the
evening's planned events. She had chosen a deep
emerald dress that had a very low scoop neck and a
skirt that tapered into a diamond tip just above
midthigh. It had a plunging back fitted into a
sunburst clasp that glittered in the dim light.
Her shoes were also emerald and made of a material that
seemed periodically to absorb and then. emit
shimmering light. Her slender, callused hand
readjusted a stray strand of hair and then she declared
herself presentable The chronometer read 19:59
hours, and by now she knew her date was a most eager
and punctual individual. With the final moments
ticking away, she surveyed the room: lights low
for mood, her furniture properly neat and
organized. She mentally ticked off the final odds
and ends required for the evening. Her arrangements with
Guinan were secure and should be equally punctual.
"Computer, Vulcan etudes from the
neoclassical period."
"Specify composer," the computer requested. Ro
made an annoyed face. "Random selection." The
computer whirred then complied, and odd-sounding
instrumentation filtered through the cabin, completing the
atmosphere she desired.
Finally, the clock ticked off twenty-hundred
hours, and Ro took several deep breaths. This
entire evening was a cautiously arranged affair and
she wanted everything to go according to plan. If done right,
things should improve tremendously for her. If not,
she might have a horrible time explaining the situation
to Riker--and that was not a conversation she wanted to have.
Ever.
Her door buzzer sounded with its quiet
electronic chirp and she invited her caller in.
James Kelly walked in, a small box in
his right hand. He was decked out in a one-piece
jumpsuit of cobalt blue, with a patch from his last
home affixed to the right breast. His wide, thick
black belt had a glittering bright red stone set in
the buckle, and his shoes seemed low and comfortable. The
hair that was usually soft and wavy was now slicked
back with a spit curl dangling over the left
eyebrow. He took three steps in, saw Ro,
and exclaimed, "Holy Kolker!"
"Something wrong, James?" Ro asked, her
voice modulated to be as inviting as possible.
"No, nothing wrong at all, Ensign.
You look totally flawless."
She took a step toward him, flashing a smile
which showed off perfect white teeth. He
instinctively took a THIS-THAT tilde
ROMU@LAN STRATAGEM
step back. "I think for tonight we can drop the
"Ensign." Tonight, for you, I am Laren."
"Laren. Sure." He began to look
alternately nervous and excited. Ro wasn't
sure which way he would decide.
"Before we go, James, I want to thank you for
agreeing to be my consort."
A puzzled expression appeared on his face.
"Con- sort?"
"Why yes. I'm from Bajor, and there we have a very
organized mating order. We're at the very beginning
of this and I'm very excited. It's been a... long
time."
James Kelly stared at Ro, taking in her
appealing form, trying to comprehend her words. She
watched tilde waiting for him to make a move and then
countering with one of her own.
"Well, if that's what we're doing, uh...
Laren, then what's next?"
Ro stepped back into her quarters and
let a hand rest on a long, curved instrument made
of polished wood with a metal attachment that flared
into five sharp points. "Come in. We can be a few
minutes late to the dance. After all, being first isn't
necessarily being best." She tried to giggle, found
it sounded as if she was gargling, and promptly gave
up on this approach.
Kelly walked in and stared at the item she was
casually stroking. He then seemed to notice other
such instruments proudly displayed on walls and even
over her bed.
"Bajorans are a passionate people, James.
It's what fueled our desires while we fought
to free ourselves from the Cardassians. Our rituals
go back centuries and have never been violated.
Mating among our people is a cause for celebration, but
there are steps to be observed. Come closer,
please."
Kelly took a hesitant step forward and Ro
smiled. She hefted the instrument in her hand and
extended it toward him. With now-sweaty hands, he
hefted it and felt the weight of the wood and iron,
ignoring the polished sharp edges or the fully
detailed etchings on the handle. "Should someone
challenge you for rights o my... passion,"
she explained, continuing her attempts to sound
enticing, "this is what you will use to defend me.
I've made sure holodeck four is
prepro-gramreed and ready to run the Bajoran
tournament. First blood wins."
She stood behind him, kissed the top of an ear, and
paused. Kelly didn't move a muscle, nor
did he drop the weapon and run as she had hoped.
"We'll go to the dance, of course, and then when it's
over, return here. I'll boil us some Kevas
wine and then we can retire for the night."
Kelly let out a contented sigh at the
prospect. He'd gotten the hook and line, as it
was explained to her once by Riker. Now for the sinker.
"Oh wait, I forgot," she began. "Before...
that ... we must experience 'the ceremony of flesh and
blood."
"Flesh and blood," Kelly repeated.
"If you do not fight for my honor tonight, then
protocol demands we undergo the ceremony. With a
familial knife we will each cut off a small
piece of our skin. We place the skin and the
dripping blood into a chalice. Then we use
sacred spices to mull the mixture and just before we
consummate our prolonged relationship, we
share the drink."
There was a full thirty seconds of silence in the
room. Ro listened to Kelly's breathing increase in
rate and patiently awaited his final reaction.
Slowly, very slowly and carefully, Kelly lowered the
weapon to her desk. Then, he took a few steps
away from her and refused to meet her eyes.
"Is there more to life with a Bajoran?" he
managed to ask.
Ro continued her act and took another step toward
him, the smile still inviting. "Much. But you said yourself
you're interested in xenology. Haven't you read up
on Bajorans yet?"
"I didn't realize how different your people were from
mine," he said, seeming to think quickly. "I'm still
seventeen. I don't know if I'm ready for that
prolonged a relationship. I'm really terribly
sorry, Laren, er... Ensign, er... oh... but
maybe this isn't for the best." He backed toward the
door.
Ro stood her ground and watched, keeping her
face from showing delight. "I respect your wishes
and commend you on a wise choice before we were
inextricably bound. I'll miss you."
"Sure. Right. I"'11, er, miss
our time, too. But you have your duties..." The door
slid open, spilling bright light into the cabin.
"That I do."
"Right. I'll see you." He stepped backward
and out into the corridor, allowing the door to close
immediately.
Ro immediately broke into a genuine grin and then
commanded, "Computer, abort music and full
lights." As the room returned to normal, Ro's
hand reached behind her and unclasped the dress. Letting
it fall to her feet, Ro decided to go for her
usual off-duty Bajoran look, remain in the
room, and try and finish the Dixon Hill caper.
After all, tonight she proved she had learned what it was
like to be a doll or a tomato; now she wanted
to learn whodunit.
But first, she thought, she had better return all
the weaponry to Worf with her thanks. Bajor may
have its own brand of armaments but nothing worked as well as
the weapons from a legendary warrior race, Pleased
with her night's work, Ro replayed Kelly's
reactions in her mind and let out a pleased chuckle.
This time it sounded just right.
Two hours later, the Newcomer's Dance was under
full swing. The holodeck was filled with
civilians and officers; the Federation Horns, a
live band of veteran crew members, played their
hearts out, and Guinan had a makeshift bar set
up in a corner. Counselor Troi had personally
overseen the decorations and theme, which was a simulation
of a dance hall she grew up near on Betazed.
Everything was in bright tones and the lighting was artfully
designed so as not to create any shadows.
Will Riker had just completed sitting in on a set
with the Federation Horns and was now enjoying a drink with
Troi. Both had considered the event a great'
success and a relief from the tensions of the past few
days. One thing about being a civilian aboard the
ship: it meant remaining blissfully ignorant of
most nonshipboard activities.
Riker had just finished a bad joke involving a
Ferengi, a Klingon, and a Benzite, when the
holodeck doors parted and allowed Captain
Picard inside the festivities. He seemed dour
to the first officer and no doubt felt the pressures
of the past few days more keenly than anyone else on
board. Riker also knew that Picard welcomed
having civilians aboard the ships but personally
disliked events such as this dance. He was here because duty
called for his presence. Riker then
entertained the amusing idea of Picard's also being here
so as not to incur Troi's wrath.
"Number One, Counselor," Picard greeted
them.
"Captain, I'm so glad you finally showed up,"
Troi said, looking lovely again in her
off-the-shoulder bright blue gown. It was one of her
favorite dresses, and Riker's, too, so he was
always happy when she chose to wear it.
"Everyone seems to be having a good time,"
Picard noted, briefly surveying the room. People
were dancing to the music, doing steps that must have been
all the rage on a dozen different Federation worlds and
new to the command crew.
Riker then noticed James Kelly slowly
walk into the dance. He was alone, which surprised him.
The slump of his shoulders indicated that their planning
did not go well. He excused himself from Picard and
ambled over toward the teen, a smile ready to greet
him. "Hello, James," he said.
Kelly looked up, surprised once again to have
Riker notice him. "Hi, sir."
"No date, huh?"
"It didn't work out. There was too much of a
commitment involved," he explained.
Riker looked thoughtful and confused. "Too much
commitment for a dance?"
"Well, Ensign Ro had all these
rituals..."
"Ro! This was all about you and Ensign Ro?"
Riker was at once shocked and amused. His hand
began stroking his beard to cover the smile he couldn't
help show.
"Didn't you know, sir?"
"The woman's name never came up before, James.
I have had a few other matters on my mind,"
Riker said sympathetically.
"It wasn't going to work, was it?"
"Ro is definitely not your speed," Riker
said, still grinning. "I think I owe you an apology.
I never would have encouraged you to pursue her had I
known.
There are plenty of young women your age, James,
and some must be here. Go ahead, you'll find someone.
I'll be watching out for you, I promise."
"Okay. Sure." Kelly, still somewhat
despondent, hesitatingly moved into the crowd,.
To Riker's surprise, before the teen could go ten
feet, Guinan was coming directly toward him, towing
a young woman by hand. He watched the
practiced hostess go to work, "Hello, James
Kelly. I've been waiting for you to get here, you
know."
He barely looked at her, and certainly
didn't notice the woman. "I didn't know.
I'm sorry."
"No problem. You know, Counselor Troi has
worked really hard to make this party work, and that means the
guest list was carefully balanced. This is
Elizabeth Seward, and she has been without a dance
partner for at least fifteen minutes."
"Hi," he said, looking at the round-faced girl
with shoulder-length brown hair. She was wearing a
peach-colored outfit with a bright yellow belt and
looked rather attractive. Riker watched the boy
realize that this was a young woman far more attainable than
Ro. He also thought he heard the teen mutter,
"Flawless."
"I'm from Maryland, on Earth's North
American continent," Elizabeth said'.
Kelly broke into a long story about how he ended
up. aboard the Enterprise, and Guinan quietly
slipped back into the crowd. She caught Riker's
eye, gave him a wink, and then returned to the bar.
Now Riker was sure he had seen everything.
This was the woman who could' stare down Q, make
Worf sociable, and now was a matchmaker. He would
never underestimate her skills again;
Riker scanned the room to see where the captain
gone to, hoping he had not already departed. He had
yet to meet all the newcomers and Riker thought now
would be a good time to get his mind offEloh. Instead,
he watched as Picard seemed to complete a
circuit of the room, nodding absently at crew
members he knew such as Specialist Robin
Leffler or Chief Rick Taylor. Then he
began to make a beeline for the door.
The alert first officer followed him into the
corridor and caught up with Picard at the
turbolift. Silently they entered and Picard
asked to be returned to the bridge.
"Gamma shift is running smoothly," Riker
said, just to say something.
Picard nodded and seemed thoughtful. Looking up
at his officer and friend, he finally said, "You're
probably wondering what I have been thinking about these
past hours.
"There are times, Will, when we presume too much
of ourselves and our way of life. I think it is a
flaw mankind has endured since
civilization began. Earth history is filled with
incidents where one society considered itself the perfect
one and tried to subjugate others to their way of
thinking. The Holy Crusades, the Second World
War, the Eugenics Wars, and so on. I had thought
we might have grown past that, but I see we did not.
"We came to this world and naturally presumed that
s.ince we had the most peaceful and benevolent of
intentions we would be more desirable than a government
hell-bent on conquest and a rigid way of life.
My own arrogance let me think we would prevail and
I never once considered that philosophically the
Elohsians might prefer the Romulan way of
life."
The lift stopped and deposited them on the rather
quiet bridge. Lieutenant Michael Hagen
rose from the center seat, but Picard patted the air
and indicated he should remain on duty. With Riker,
he strolled to the ready room and they took seats on
the couch. The captain appeared lost in thought again.
Finally he broke the silence by saying, "Daithin
had made the observation that he never could have predicted
what was to happen when we were invited here. Nor could
I have possibly foreseen what was to come. What a
marvelous thing life is, constantly
surprising us and rarely lulling us into a false
sense of security."
"Isn't that what you like most about your career?"
Riker inquired.
"Quite, W. I said so to the parliament. Maybe they
had enough surprises over the years and wanted. something
they could count on. It will be most curious to see what
happens to this world in a decade."
"Where will we be then?" Riker asked, not sure of
his own answer.
"I don't know. I imagine I will either remain
as captain of this ship or settle down commanding some
starbase. Certainly I don't want to be tied
to Starfleet Command on Earth, That would be too
predictable a life for me." He actually
chuckled at the concept and Riker laughed along,

knowing his distaste for the "good old boy" network that
occasionally flared up during administrations. "Maybe
one of the deep space stations since they remain
closer to frontiers."
""Sounds nice," the younger commander said. "One thing
is certain, though," he said, more to himself than
to Riker. The first officer looked at the captain and
waited for a response, without prompting.
"Commander Sela is not one to be
underestimated. Marvelous speech at the end, and she
knew better than I how to play to the crowd. She
did her job rather well this time and no doubt will parlay
that so we will contend with her again. Maybe then I can
find out if her claims are true."
Riker noted that Picard always seemed fascinated
by the woman, but had not previously realized just how
deep that feeling went. There was no question that they would
cross paths again, he knew, and he speculated as
to how the two commanders would fare when they next met.
Picard was certainly the more resourceful leader, but
Sela's bewitching looks and history would be
exploited to her advantage.
"We'll see then, Captain," Riker
replied. "But today, she's back there, on Eloh,
and we're going somewhere new. We have much to do before
arriving so I'm going to start on the quarterly
personnel review."
Picard looked at him and Riker could tell that the
captain was already putting his reverie about Eloh in the
back of his mind somewhere, done mourning a mission gone
sour. He was clearly returning to his duty
mode. "No, Number One. Please go back to the
party and enjoy your evening. The reports can wait
till the morning."
"Very good, sir," Riker said, rising. "Remind
me to tell you what happened aboard the ship while you
were gone. You might enjoy one or two items."
"Indeed, Number One. I look forward to it."
Picard also stood, tucking his duty jacket back
in place, and then walked toward his desk ready to do
something to get back to work.
Commander Riker left the ready room while
Picard paused to glance out his windows. The stars
streaked by as the ship continued to accelerate, leaving
Eloh well behind. He watched for a moment, considered
that each star held the promise of something new, something
wonderful, and was content to take each such discovery one
star at a time.