eceived: from [66.218.66.160] by n6.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 20 Mar 2004 03:38:16 -0000 X-Sender: sil@sileya.net X-Apparently-To: ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 58004 invoked from network); 20 Mar 2004 03:38:09 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.218) by m20.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 20 Mar 2004 03:38:09 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO mailstore.psci.net) (63.65.184.2) by mta3.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 20 Mar 2004 03:38:08 -0000 Received: from max (as3-d32-rp-psci.psci.net [63.92.109.32]) by mailstore.psci.net (8.12.2/8.12.2) with SMTP id i2K3YjMl023850 for ; Fri, 19 Mar 2004 22:34:46 -0500 Message-ID: <007701c40e2c$b41d8580$206d5c3f@max> To: "ASCEM-S" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Mailer: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1158 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 63.65.184.2 From: "Sileya" X-Yahoo-Profile: sileya MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEM-S-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Fri, 19 Mar 2004 21:37:42 -0600 Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW TNG: Journey to Destiny [R] 1/? P/C h/c Reply-To: "Sileya" Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Title: Journey To Destiny Author: Celeste Email: celestetyroll@yahoo.co.uk Fandom: Star Trek TNG Pairing: Canon (I think) bit of Jean Luc/Other but really tiny Rating: R Status : Completed Beta: Not Betaed Warnings: Hurt/Comfort Archive: ASCEM. Others Please Ask. Email me if want Word Doc. Disclaimer: Star Trek TNG and its characters are the property of Paramount. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Summary: Jean Luc Picard is abducted. Filesize: 505KB Prologue Sub Commander Har'n leaned back as far as he could into the sparse shade afforded him by a light outcrop of rock that projected from an otherwise smooth cliff face behind him. The Romulan Sub Commander was hot. He swept his index finger around the moist collar that tightly enclosed his throat. Sweat beaded his forehead. The discomfort offered by this inhospitable place was almost unbearable but H'arn stoically forced himself to ignore it. Hooded eyes squinting, Har'n studied two males that stood at the very edge of a natural platform that all three shared. This platform jutted out from a cliff face that descended at least two earth kilometers to the arid desert beneath. The planet of Saros was barren, it's air humid and acrid to Har'ns' tongue. His Commander and an alien stood engrossed in conversation at the edge of this precipice, their voices just audible to Har'n whose frustration increased as he strained to understand the content of their discussion. Unable to decipher any meaning Har'n turned his attention to the surrounding area. Although his clear orders were to remain at a distance Har'n still had a duty to the safety of his Commander. The double suns that dominated the sky were blinding and the Sub Commander immediately had to close his eyes to protect them, despite the protective sun visor he wore. When he opened them his Commander was striding towards him. Har'n was impressed by his commanding officer's stamina, to stand in the full heat of Saros's twin suns was not a feat to be underestimated. The alien, its face protected by a light cowl, remained still, gazing out at the expanse of desert that stretched to the far horizon. Har'n had never seen the alien close to, he did not even know its' race and his Commander had never enlightened him. They had attended several of these meetings before, each at a different and isolated location. Always, as today, the alien would be waiting for them and Har'n knew he would remain here until long after the Romulans had moved back into warp space. Sub Commander Har'n stood to attention as his Commander reached him. The Commander's face was impassive indicating little of his actual thoughts. He nodded and Har'n immediately opened his communications link to the Romulan warbird that orbited the planet, out of sight above them. "Commander S'huy and Sub Commander Har'n to transport aboard." Har'n ordered. Almost instantaneous with his request the two Romulans were submerged within a transporter beam, particles briefly shimmering in the heat before returning Har'n and S'huy to their ship. Har'n's last sight of Saros was the immense and cloaked bulk of the mysterious alien, silhouetted against a pale orange sky streaked by deep hues of scarlet from the slowly setting suns. Back on board the Warbird Kallonos, Commander S'huy briefly passed his orders for departing the Saros star system, and returning to the safer realms of the Romulan empire, to his Sub Commander before making his way to his personal quarters. An experienced veteran of many battles within the empire the wall behind his desk was studded with minor honors collected during twenty years of military service. S'huy sat down at his desk, the palms of his weathered hands placed flat on the smooth, glossy surface of the command panel inset within the desktop. The panel lit up displaying a wealth of information which S'huy took in with one look, noting that the course back to Romulan space had already been entered. He heard the order to move to warp speed over the general intercom and glanced to the port window in time to witness the pattern of stars particular to Saros disappear. Only then did S'huy relax, letting out a long, deep sigh. All the rewards of long and loyal service meant nothing, he mused, if after twenty years of service his influence within the Council remained limited. But now this could all change. When he had first met the alien they had just left behind on Saros, S'huy had nearly killed him but the alien had told him a story that had staggered S'huy. An understanding had been reached and S'huy had sensed for the first time a real opportunity to improve his position in the hierarchy of the Romulan Council, that would challenge even that of the T'Shay. After years of cultivation and negotiating with the T'Shay, S'huy had been granted permission to begin trade with the alien. Somewhere in the passage of time S'huy had lost the initiative and the alien had begun to dominate their partnership. The loss of control had been quickly perceived by the T'Shay and lately Commander S'huy had begun to feel their pressure for a bigger return on their investment in him. Today S'huy believed a bargain had been reached that S'huy knew the T'Shay would place their faith in. The opportunity presented to the Romulans, at minimal risk to the empire, was too great to ignore. The T'Shay would gain the loyalty of a high ranking member of the Council, in the current political climate a substantial return in itself but even more than this was the chance to hit out at the Federation in a move that would rock its foundations and demoralize its member states. But the twist in the tail, was the personal revenge that would be unleashed on an old adversary of S'huys, who many years ago had outwitted him as a newly promoted commander, ultimately causing his career to stagnate for several years. S'huy could barely believe the chance of fate that made this possible. Not once did the Commander worry that he would not personally avenge the human responsible for so much lost time in his advancement through the ranks. Instead, his mind burned with the desire for vengeance and the name of a Starfleet officer who now held the rank of captain on one of Starfleet's finest flagships. Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Galaxy Class Starship the USS Enterprise. Chapter 1 Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D was furiously pacing his quarters, a stern expression furrowing deep grooves in his otherwise smooth brow. Not for the first time, he swung back to the console that stood on his desk in his personal quarters. Pressing a control pad the screen lit up displaying the file that had provoked his current mood. He had read its contents once more when the door chimed. "Enter". he muttered absently. The door slid open and a familiar female voice spoke. "Jean-Luc, may I speak with you?" requested Dr. Beverly Crusher the ship's Chief Medical Officer. Straightening, he turned to face her and the doctor immediately moved to his side, concern etched in her face. "What is it?" she asked him urgently. A little taken aback by her reaction, Picard quickly reassured her that he was fine. "I've received some rather disturbing news." he volunteered. He stopped, Crusher waited patiently but when Picard did not continue curiosity got the better of her. "Well, what's happened? Is everything all right?" Dr. Crusher knew the captain was sometimes reticent to talk about his concerns. Wordlessly Picard gestured to the screen and Crusher moved round to read the few sentences displayed there. Picard went to the sofa and sat down. A cup of Earl Grey tea sat on the coffee table, so he picked it up to take a sip. It was cold. He put the cup down again. Dr. Crusher spun round her face alight with pleasure. "But this is wonderful news, Jean-Luc. Congratulations." She paused as his downtrodden demeanor struck her. "You're not pleased are you. Captain, this is an incredible honor, for the Enterprise too." Picard struggled to express some semblance of pleasure. "I do feel honored...very! But to be perfectly frank, I was looking forward to exploring this region of space. There are some very unusual star clusters in the area, one of which is close to collapsing. The stellar cartography department have been working very hard to prepare for studying the actual event." Crusher sat down in an armchair and as if to prove his contrary mood Picard stood up to pace up and down the room. "Have you any idea what this will mean?" he asked. "Speeches. Award ceremonies, receptions, handshaking." His body fairly shuddered at the thought, his voice rising slightly in volume as he gave vent to his feelings. Crusher successfully hid a smile. In fact Picard loved making speeches on subjects he felt passionately about, but he did have a strong aversion to receptions and the social necessities they involved. The captain had in the past managed to find plenty of reasons to avoid such events. In this particular instance Captain Picard had been selected to deliver the honorary address to Starfleet Command at Starfleet's Annual Conference. The honorary address was customarily delivered by a Starfleet officer held in the highest regard, providing an opportunity to highlight areas of concern to those actively engaged in duties throughout Starfleet. The conference was transmitted by subspace to every planet member of the Federation and the honorary address was the highlight of the event as its content was taken very seriously and subsequent action almost guaranteed. The responsibility involved in deciding the content and delivery of the honorary address was therefore of the highest importance and a key factor in selecting its speaker. Picard sat down beside Crusher looking directly into the doctor's lovely green eyes. "It will mean the Enterprise being sent on hundreds of diplomatic missions." The doctor was unable to prevent herself laughing out loud at his mournful tone. She was well aware that the Captain's first love was exploratory missions, not those of protocol. Picard glared at her and she stopped. "It won't be forever." Crusher pointed out in an attempt to put Picard's problem into perspective. "Come on". she coaxed him. "Surely you are slightly pleased. Just a little." Well aware she had disarmed him successfully, Picard laughed. "Perhaps just a little." he admitted smiling. "Good." Crusher pronounced. Taking his hand she pulled him to his feet, before leaning forward to kiss his left cheek. "In that case let me congratulate you once again. Properly." Picard accepted her kiss graciously, his senses taking in a gentle waft of her natural perfume. He suddenly remembered his manners and stepping back offered his attractive visitor some refreshment. "You wanted me for something." he reminded her as he went to arrange some fresh tea and biscuits. While he was busy Crusher filled him in on some of her latest research. She had reached a stumbling block and wanted his opinion. "It sounds to me that you have proved the original basis for this research is flawed." Picard offered. He suspected Crusher, whose research skills were excellent, wanted to use Picard as a sounding board to confirm a decision she had already reached herself. He was right. "I was afraid you would say that." she said glumly. "Oh well. Back to the drawing board." Putting her cup down she stood up to go, suddenly impatient to get back to work. "Would you like me to inform the bridge of our course change?" she asked him casually, stopping at the door to his quarters. Picard glanced at her sharply, just catching the impish twinkle in her eyes. "No. I'll see to it myself." he replied a trifle curtly. Dr. Crusher was not in the least put out by his tone. "Fine." she replied, nodding her head in acknowledgment. As the door opened to let her out she could not resist a parting shot. "I'll look forward to your announcement then." Picard glared after her but was faced only with the closing doors. Pondering his ship's doctor's ability to needle him so easily, he smiled wryly to himself. But, he conceded, it was a task to be done. Sitting down at his desk he began to work on an announcement on their change of course and the reason behind it. Ten minutes later he erased his third attempt. Trying to be modest did not work he realized. Better to keep it factual. One minute later he was satisfied and with a touch of the screen he had sent the ship wide announcement winging its way through the intra ship communications system. Immediately his order to change course was received on the bridge, to delighted cheers. Across the galaxy, on the other side of the planet Earth, a ship had just docked on the planet Calgos. Calgos was not a member of the Federation, but had established itself as a trading center linking the Federation with non member planets capable of interstellar travel. Its trading links extended into both the Romulan and Klingon Empires and over many centuries it had become a destination stop for many species. The governing body of Calgos had long given up attempting to monitor the legalities of those passing through and recognizing that its economy depended on its trading status concentrated on ensuring that trading arrangements could continue unmolested by the various factions that inhabited the planet at any time. Calgos had become a haven for all manner of miscreant and lawful traders. Total chaos was prevented by the strict enforcement of a docking code and safety of the ships and their contents. Once personnel or merchandise left the relative safety of the space dock Calgos practically abdicated all responsibility. The planet was an unstable place to visit at the best of times and the few who remained for any length of time were well versed in survival. The ship was called The Olanter, unusual in its design it represented the latest in Romulan technology and invited much interest from other visitors to Calgos, but at a distance of course. Its captain was a merchant by the name of Maxim Dentor whose reputation was well known in the criminal fringes of the galaxy. Dentor had been out of circulation for a few years after some disastrous activity in the Tyrellium sector so his obvious recent elevation up the greasy pole of success was impressive. Dentor had become a figure to be reckoned with, not least for his ability to remain out of reach of the law within and outside the Federation. Calgos was therefore a natural place for Dentor to visit and catch up with old acquaintances, without attracting unwanted attention. Today as he stepped into the hectic activity of Calgor's docking city Dentor was looking for someone very special. He made straight for a beady eyed Ferengi, who maintained a street stall selling all manner of gems and stones in traditional market fashion. They exchanged a few words. Dentor discreetly handed over one bar of latinum before heading purposefully down the street. After a few twists and turns, Dentor's demeanor subtly began to change so he became of less interest to those he passed. Fifteen minutes later Dentor was satisfied that he had not been followed and he entered a dark alley. Fifty meters along it he stopped and putting out his hand felt along the rough surface of the wall. Within seconds he had located a control panel and pressing it lightly a door in the wall slid open, the light increased sufficiently for Dentor to enter without stumbling. The door slid shut behind him and instantly before him an inner door opened to reveal a dimly lit tavern. Tables and chairs occupied dark alcoves lit by subtle soft lighting. The ambiance was subdued and secretive, except for one corner by the main bar where a vocal group of native Calgorns laughed and chatted, downing long tall glasses of Calgorian beer. Ignoring them Dentor scanned the alcoves until he spotted the woman he had been searching for. The young and attractive human female tipped her glass towards him, acknowledging his arrival. Dentor continued to scan the room, his eyes only having briefly rested on her. However he did not forget the image she presented. He thought she looked harder than the last time they had met, five years ago now he reflected. In that time he had followed news, what little there was, of her activities. Most of it he knew would be rumor but he had heard first hand accounts from mutual contacts and realized it was not surprising if she had changed. Casually he crossed to the bar, attracting his fair share of appraising stares from the established crowd of customers, and ordered the specialty beer of the house. Running his eyes over the mob, he satisfied himself that there was no undue interest being paid to him or the female. He sipped his beer, nodding approval to the bartender, before making his way to the woman's table. He tilted back its spare chair, waiting politely. The woman shrugged and he sat down. Brown and green flecked eyes studied him over the rim of a curly glass. Jet black hair cropped close to her head framed the delicate bone structure of her face. When she lowered her glass it revealed a slightly wry smile. "So Maxim, we meet again. It has been too long." she greeted him, her voice pitched low. "I hear you've done well, Tal". Dentor responded. Tal Caoussin inclined her head fractionally. "So what brings you looking for me?" she asked him directly. Dentor allowed himself a brief smile. It faded as he glanced down at his glass. "I have a job you may be interested in." he replied. He looked up, his expression now deadly serious. Caoussin shifted her position slightly before answering, the movement almost sensual. "I'm sure I will." Her comment was made blandly, giving nothing away. "It's big." Dentor warned her. "You would not be working entirely on your own, but I'll make sure you get the leeway you need. Your reputation precedes you and we need your expertise. You will not judge your pay unacceptable." "Sounds risky." Caoussin leaned back in her chair, studying Dentor through half closed, smoldering eyes. "What's involved?" "I cannot say much now, except that we will carry out a dangerous operation deep in Federation territory. Later a meeting with our employer. I know little more myself, our employer works strictly on a need to know basis. I do know our final destination lies beyond the known frontiers of the galaxy and will bring us close to the outer reaches of the Romulan empire." Caoussin raised a well defined eyebrow. "The Romulans are involved?" Dentor shrugged. He really did not know. "You don't know what might be out there." Caoussin pointed out. "This is well outside your normal sphere of operation, Maxim. Why take the risk?" She raised her drink. Dentor quoted a monetary sum that stopped Caoussin in her tracks, her glass suspended in mid air. "That's an awful lot of credit." she whispered, her eyes finally betraying a small hint of interest. Dentor merely nodded, his intense gaze holding her own. Caoussin made her decision and suddenly downing the rest of her drink stood up. They had worked together before and Dentor had known she would trust his instincts on this. "Right, I'm all yours." she told him. "Let's get out of this rat hole." Suppressing his triumph, Dentor joined her as they negotiated their way to the exit. Mentally he ticked off the first important task in his list. He now had his complete team, next was the far trickier hurdle of getting them to work as one. Tal was a professional, he knew, she would cause him little trouble, but some of the others. He whistled under his breath causing Caoussin to glance up at him. At the docking station they parted after agreeing a rendezvous in space, where Caoussin would dock her own smaller spacecraft with the Olanter. Ten earth minutes later the Olanter and The Scriptor were warping through space leaving Calgos far behind. Trantor Nogura, Head of Federation Intelligence, based on the planet Earth, accessed a message tagged Priority One that had just appeared on his console. It flashed red on his screen demanding his immediate attention. The contents were classified and in code. To read it Nogura was obliged to transfer the file to a personal decoder. As the program began Nogura noted that it was a highly secure code and would take several seconds to complete. He got up and requested a steaming mug of coffee from the replicator. One minute later, coffee in hand he read the contents of the message. Finally he leaned back sipping his drink. The coffee was still hot and distracted, Nogura burned his tongue. Uttering a short curse, he ignored the pain and requested the computer to connect him through to Federation Security Chief Klaxos. Klaxos was currently based on Vulcan, but just happened to be on Earth for the forthcoming Starfleet conference. Somewhat fortuitously Nogura considered. Klaxos had an uncanny knack for being in the right place at the right time. As if to prove his point Klaxos appeared on Nogura's console immediately. "Nogura." Klaxos spoke immediately. "What can I do for you?" The Federation's most senior security officer never bothered with niceties, preferring to get straight to the point. Nogura was more than happy with this approach. "I have received contact from one of my agents. It appears serious. We need to meet straight away. I suggest the President's Chief of Staff attends.". "Fine." Klaxos agreed. "Thirteen hundred hours. My office. The Chief is due here then anyway to discuss arrangements for the Starfleet conference." He signed off. Next Nogura accessed a file from his personal and highly secure library. Getting the file took some time as he had to provide several codes and passwords before the computer finally relinquished the data he required. It was a personnel file on one of his top agents, Agent XY7FGY, code named Jasper. Nogura noted that Jasper had been out of circulation for four months until a message had arrived just two weeks ago. This message had indicated that a large operation, parameters unknown, was underway. Jasper was investigating and would recontact at the next possible moment. Which was obviously now. Retrieving the latest message from working storage, Nogura reread it: "Federation threatened. Outside source. Organized. Major terrorist activity planned soon. Must follow through. Support required. XY7FGY." Only Nogura and his predecessor knew Jasper's true identity. Protecting his federation agents was Nogura's chief responsibility and one he took very seriously. Failure to do this by the Federation in the past had provoked near catastrophic consequences for the Federation during the Borg incident. Federation Intelligence did not put its agents out in the field to ignore them but it was difficult to support them when they were deep undercover. Almost everything that took place in the Federation was known to three men: Nogura, Klaxos and the President's personal aide. If all three understood the situation then Nogura knew Jasper would get the support required without further risk of communication. It was his job to work out what. Chapter 2 On the Enterprise Ten Forward was in uproar with most crew members not on duty celebrating their Captain's good fortune. Guinan stood like a queen behind the bar, her cheerful, round face beaming smiles to all around. The demands for more and more exotic drinks kept piling in. It had been Counselor Deanna Troi who had persuaded the captain to join his crew for a celebration drink before he and his three most senior officers beamed down to the reception dinner on the eve of the Starfleet Annual Conference. "Your crew expects you, Captain. They want to express their congratulations." she had tried to no avail. Picard was too engrossed in preparing his speech. Finally, when she had exhausted her list of persuasive arguments Troi had resorted to the unfair, risking his wrath by a last ditch attempt at coercion. "It's your duty." she had stated resolutely. Captain Picard had glared at his ship's Counselor, not missing the bland and professional mask Troi now presented, calmly meeting his own increasingly exasperated expression. Sighing, he had raised his hands in defeat before gesturing to the door of his ready room to indicate she should exit first. Triumphantly, Troi had escorted Picard to Ten Forward, clearly determined not to let him out of her sight now she had achieved her objective. She was careful not to let her feelings show but Picard was not fooled for a minute. The captain was very fond of his betazoid counselor and he let it go without comment. On reflection Picard had to admit he had enjoyed the festivities and the atmosphere Guinan had created in Ten Forward. Spectacularly colored drinks decorated the tables, and endless trays of aromatic delicacies were handed around by the bar staff. He was also touched by the enthusiasm that greeted him. All too soon the hour to leave came about and a smiling Commander William Riker, his first officer, appeared at his elbow. "Time to go, Will?" Picard asked, checking the chronometer on the wall. "Yes, sir." Riker confirmed. Riker turned to face Counselor Troi, playfully extending his arm. "Counselor. May I escort you?" he requested courteously. Troi laughed before placing her hand on his arm. "I would be delighted, kind sir." she replied demurely. Picard raised an eyebrow at his chief medical officer, who had just joined them, in dress uniform as they all were. "Doctor?" he offered his arm. "Captain." she accepted with a humorous smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. The four officers were surrounded by milling well wishers who escorted them to the doors to Ten Forward. Once in the relative peace of the corridor the Captain and his guests quickly made their way to the transporter room where the officer on duty beamed the group to the reception entrance on the Earth's planet surface below. The reception dinner had been in full swing for two hours now, with four courses over. Dessert and coffee had been served and the vivacious conversation had dimmed to a low murmur. Fleet Admiral Surek, a senior Vulcan officer high up in Starfleet Command, had risen to deliver a welcoming speech. His speech was to be broadcast to the member planets of the Federation as part of the opening coverage on the conference. The Vulcan delivered his words solemnly, outlining the aims of the conference and highlighting results forthcoming from previous years. He went on to describe the purpose of the honorary speech scheduled for mid week and the care that went into choosing its speaker. "This year the honorary address will be given by Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. Captain Picard is an officer who has represented the best of Starfleet in upholding the Federation's central principles of truth and peace. A Starfleet captain who has earned the love and respect of his crew. A man who has `pulled many rabbits out of many hats'." This last comment got a delighted laugh from the audience of senior starfleet officers and various members of the Federation Council. Admiral Surek was well known for his fascination with Earth English colloquiums, working them into his conversation whenever he could. Surek maintained that resolving the logic of such sentences challenged the most intellectual of minds. Captain Picard, the subject of his discourse, was forced to laugh too, although inwardly he was quailing as Surek looked set to continue. He picked up his coffee and sipped it slowly. It had been delivered together with the traditional mints that reminded him of Counselor Troi's love for chocolate. He glanced at the betazoid, who sat directly across from him at the table, next to Commander Riker, and caught her unable to resist. Troi sensed his attention as she slipped the mint into her mouth and Picard thoroughly enjoyed the guilty expression that instantly stole across her face. As she swallowed the last piece Troi returned his smile, promising him revenge for catching her out. Picard noticed Beverly Crusher, beside him, catch their exchange. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, clearly wondering what the joke was. So it was both Picard and the doctor who observed the change in expression that crossed Deanna Troi's face. Her smile faded, her eyes reflecting initial puzzlement and then alarm. Instantly alert, Picard noted the blood drain from Troi's skin and the frown that creased her forehead. Troi moaned, startling Riker who had been riveted by Admiral Sureks' speech. He turned to find his companion bending towards the table, her arms tightly clutching her stomach. Troi looked awful and Riker immediately placed an arm on her shoulder. Crusher had moved round to reach her and rapidly scanned the betazoid with the medical tricorder she was rarely without. Plainly concerned, Dr. Crusher tilted up Troi's face to study her eyes. Troi was in terrible pain, biting her lip until it drew blood to prevent a cry being heard. Troi was clearly mortified to be causing a scene at such a prestigious event. "Can you describe the pain?" Crusher asked her quietly. Troi shook her head, unable to speak. "Will, we have to get her to sickbay." Crusher told an anxious Riker urgently. "Now." Riker nodded, getting up to help Troi out of her seat. By now most of the room, including Admiral Surek, were aware of the disturbance. Picard started to get up, but Riker caught the motion and nodded his captain to remain where he was. Realizing that there was little more he could do to help and that duty demanded he sit the reception out, Picard sat down again. Admiral Surek, had quickly assessed the situation and continued his dialogue, forcing the audience's attention back to himself. As Riker and Troi stepped away from the table, Troi cried out, and except for Riker's grip around her waist would have collapsed completely to the floor. Just semi conscious, Troi was completely unaware of the pandemonium that next broke out. Admiral Surek, standing on a dais, was the first to see the shimmering forms that instantly took solid shape at strategic points around the room. Faltering, he cried out a warning. Caught unawares and distracted by the disturbance at Picard's table, Starfleet's most senior and experienced officers reacted seconds too late. The honorary security guards were felled before they had a chance to draw their weapons. Employing the age old tactic of noise to disorientate their victims a group of black masked humanoid forms, with vicious looking and formidable weapons, began shouting orders to get down to the floor. Picard looked at the scene erupting around him. Glancing at an incredulous Riker, still holding Troi, Picard motioned his first officer down. Riker did not need further urging as he too took one look round from his vantage point standing up, and pulling Troi with him joined the rest on the floor, Dr. Crusher closely following behind him. Picard exchanged a worried glance with her. Within seconds a sturdily built figure, dressed in black, tight fitting combat gear stood among their prone bodies, a snout nosed weapon floating in a circle above them. Silence had replaced the frenzied shouting that had characterized the intruders arrival. There seemed to be movement between the tables, but the terrorist guard that covered them did not move. Another of the terrorists, much slighter in build, appeared beside Picard. A scanner passed above his head, then back over his body to his feet. Next it moved over Crusher. Within seconds, a hand reached down to pluck Crushers' medical tricorder from her grip. The doctor relinquished it without question. A moan from the Counselor drew their searcher's attention. "She's sick. She needs medical treatment". Dr. Crusher told them her voice slightly muffled, but firm. Troi was thrashing about, Riker struggling to pin her down. Instantly a muzzle was pressed hard against Crusher's neck. Picard drew in a quick breath, his muscles coiling with tension, his eyes never leaving the gloved finger that poised on the weapon's trigger. Slowly a black gloved hand reached beneath the doctor to remove the communicator pinned to her tunic. Wisely the doctor remained silent and the weapon was slowly removed. As Picard released his breath, he sensed surrounding hostages do likewise. Continuing to ignore the betazoid's anguished movements, their searcher, face totally masked behind some standard type breathing apparatus, next took their remaining communicators. Clearly similar activity was ongoing throughout the room and a varied collection of equipment and weapons from security guards and guests was quickly and efficiently confiscated. Barely a minute had past, Picard calculated. Standing behind him, a female voice spoke, the tone clear and commanding. The voice belonged to their searcher and quickly established its owner as the leader of this terrorist group. "Please take your seats again, but before you do, be warned that the slightest sign of trouble will be eliminated, no questions asked." They were warned. The group of hostages regained their feet before sitting down. Picard noticed that many of the Council members appeared suitably subdued, a few clearly indignant at the outrage but unwilling to stand out. The generally senior Starfleet officers were clearly angry, but like the more junior officers from the Enterprise had assessed their situation and were not tempted to try any heroics. Riker had lifted Troi to her seat, she had quietened down, and had immediately rested her head on one outstretched hand on the table, her other arm still clamped round her stomach. Admiral Surek, still on the dais, was motioned to his empty seat. The Vulcan smoothed down his tunic before walking, dignified, to his chair. An uneasy sense of order had returned to the room. Picard glanced at Riker, who had been studying the room's walls and exits. Riker noticed him and shook his head. Picard looked round and guessed Riker's conclusions. The exits were sealed and guarded by two terrorists each. He could not be sure but Picard was certain that security for the conference had been compromised, it was the only possible explanation for the lack of response from the external security team. The female leader spoke and Picard swung his attention back. "Your communicators have been confiscated but you should know that a block on all signals was automatically initiated on our arrival." "Perhaps you could enlighten us to your purpose here?" requested a more elderly starfleet officer, his tone testy. "Ah, Admiral Lowndon. Thank you for your question. The answer is No." the leader replied mildly. Troi groaned, and Picard raised his hand. The leader nodded at him. "Counselor Troi is ill. She needs urgent medical treatment. Let her go, she is no use to you." he requested reasonably. "No." "This is senseless. What can you hope to gain from holding her this way." Picard argued, suppressing his anger at the terrorist's callous disregard of Troi's position. Behind her black breathing mask, a snort exploded. Slowly the female terrorist moved towards Picard, the seconds dragging until she halted directly behind Picard's right ear. He could feel her almost touch him, she was so close. Although her weapon did not actually touch him, the fine hairs on the back of his neck fairly sensed its muzzle close against his neck. He remained perfectly still, his eyes staring straight ahead. It was so quiet Picard swore he would have heard a pin drop. Crusher stared slightly behind him, her mouth very slightly open, her posture tense. A voice spoke directly by his ear. "Captain Jean-Luc Picard. A pleasure to meet you." The female terrorist spoke softly but the message behind her words bespoke a clear danger. Picard noted the use of his name. These terrorists were clearly familiar with them all. To his relief the female stepped back, momentarily relieving the pressure created by her menacing actions. Now she began to circle the table, her weapon casually dragging on the back of Picard's chair and then Crusher's who could not help but move slightly forward. Two guests further on, the terrorist stopped behind Troi. The whole room seemed hypnotized by her, Picard observed. Her next movements were so quick Picard barely followed them. "No." he cried leaping up as the terrorist leader placed her weapon against Troi's neck. A slight finger pressure on a side control panel released a pressurized measure of gas directly into the vein running down Troi's neck. As Troi slumped to the table unconscious, Picard found himself staring into her weapon pointed directly at him. Immediately he saw that the weapon was multi functional, several openings yawning at him. "Sit down." a male voice shouted at the several hostages who had begun to rise from their seats. All but Picard sat down, the terrorists were well positioned to quell any rebellion and the experienced starfleet officers knew it. "She's alive." Riker told Picard, his fingers on the inside of the betazoid's wrist. Picard sensed rather than saw the warning in Riker's eye. He stood immobile, waiting for the terrorist to make the next move. It came unexpectedly, a bright flash of light from the weapon pointed directly at his heart. A sudden force propelled him to the floor and a sharp paralyzing pain spread through his chest. Picard felt the room begin to spin around him, a roaring noise filling his ears. For a brief moment Picard waited for death to descend, but his senses continued to receive data. Gradually it unjumbled itself. Crusher was kneeling beside him, ripping his dress shirt open. He could not hold back a groan as strange painful sensations began to ripple through him. A medical tricorder appeared between them. Surprised, Crusher accepted it from the terrorist who had shot Picard. Swiftly scanning Picard's chest, the doctor studied the results, her eyes suddenly widening. "What is it?" Picard whispered, his throat feeling constricted. Crusher stared down at him worried. "It looks like some sort of artificial virus, a microbe that is embedding itself into your heart. What is this, exactly?" she demanded, glaring up at Picard's assailant. "What do you think it is?" was the studied response. Picard twitched. Tingling sensations, but not painful, played round his chest, tightening an imaginary band around his chest. Still he could not move. Her lips tightening, Crusher ran an analysis on the data recorded in the tricorder. "An artificial virus, designed to embed itself into a mechanical organ. It contains a nuclear energy source." Crusher pronounced dispassionately, the scientist in her fascinated by the strange device now deep in Picard's artificial heart. "Will he be all right?" Riker demanded. Crusher nodded, still studying the data appearing on her tricorder. She took a quick breath and turned to Riker. "This virus is potentially explosive." she noted pointedly, glancing up at the terrorist still beside her and then at Picard. Picard absorbed this information whilst feeling life return to his limbs. He moved his right arm. The terrorist leaned over him to gently remove the medical tricorder from Crusher, who reluctantly let it go. "Thank you, Doctor." the terrorist leader merely replied, gesturing Crusher to return to her seat. Crusher obediently stood up before pausing to indicate Troi. "Sit down Doctor. I won't ask you again." the terrorist leader warned her, her weapon pointing significantly to Crusher's chair. Crusher sat down slowly, clearly unhappy. The terrorist pocketed the tricorder and stepping back nudged Picard's leg. Guessing her intent, Picard struggled to climb up, gripping the chair for support as he stood upright, the room seeming to tilt slightly. His vision blurred momentarily and he suppressed a groan of pain that briefly stabbed him before his vision cleared. He looked round feeling all eyes on him. Troi was still unconscious, her head resting on the table. "Right." announced the female leader nodding at two of her associates. "Let's get this finished." All the terrorists were garbed in the same black combat suits with environmental protection masks which doubled up to shield individual identities. These two were no exceptions but were larger in bulk than the average human. They marched up to take positions either side of Picard, seizing his arms and twisting them behind his back. Their leader covered them as Picard was dragged towards the empty dais passing between faces displaying varying degrees of shock. An angry murmur of protest rose around him, which was swiftly silenced although Picard was unable to see how. His captor's grips around his wrists and upper arms were remorseless, as tight as steel bands. Rage welled up in him and he struggled briefly but his captors were much stronger and merely tightened their grip, almost carrying him across the room. Realizing his resistance was futile Picard forced himself to relax. His reward was immediate as his feet gained solid contact of the ground and took his whole weight. His guards released their grip, and the male on his right stuck a phaser gun to Picard's ribs. With mounting horror Picard and the other hostages watched his second captor take a bolt gun from a holdall strapped to his back. The holdall was placed on the floor open so that Picard was able to view its contents. As he analyzed the visible contents Picard felt sick. Swallowing down the bile that rose up from his stomach he stood frozen as the bolt gun, little different from basic equipment Picard had used in the past when mountaineering, was pointed to the ceiling and fired. The bolt wedged deeply into the ceiling, dangling beneath it on a short chain was a steel ring. Picard looked across to his first officer. Riker was clearly stricken. Anticipating the danger the terrorist leader had placed her weapon against the back of Troi's exposed neck. Desperately Picard scanned the sealed doors. From this new vantage point Picard was impressed at the strategic positions the infiltrators had taken up. All doors were covered, and the hostages encircled. Only two terrorists stood among the tables, including the female by Troi. Picard counted ten. A one to ten ratio he thought, focusing his mind on gathering as much information as he could. His guard prodded him forward. The tall terrorist who had finished his preparations motioned to his dress uniform, torn open by Dr. Crusher when she had examined him. "Take this off." he ordered. Picard felt his jaw tighten, he allowed a few seconds to pass before he slowly took it off, letting his right hand do most of the work. His left arm was responding now but felt sluggish. To his relief his movements did not cause any further pain in his chest. Whatever the microbe in his heart was doing it had appeared to have finished its task and had settled down. Remembering its presence though was a mistake as the full implications of Dr. Crusher's analysis struck home. For one second Picard stopped breathing terrified that any motion would cause the microbe to become unstable and explode. His smaller guard prodded him. "Hurry it." a nasal voice ordered. Before Picard could react the second terrorist had grabbed the remaining sides of his shirt, roughly tearing it from Picard and throwing the ripped garment on top of his already discarded uniform. Picard's wrists were then swiftly encased in two steel rings and hoisted above his head where they were expertly joined by a chain to the steel ring that hung from the ceiling. The nasal voiced guard left the dais so only Picard and the terrorist who had chained him remained. The terrorist took a small device from his pocket and activated a control. Silently the ceiling bolt swallowed sufficient chain to leave Picard dangling with just his toes to touch the floor. Picard bit back a cry as the steel rings bit cruelly into his wrists. For some reason he checked the chronometer on the wall. Just ten earth minutes had past since the terrorist's arrival. His gaze caught the stricken faces of Riker and Crusher and several members of Starfleet Command. The indignity of his position and his inability to counter it overwhelmed him. He looked back at the terrorist who had done this to him. The heavily built male was running his hands over the instruments Picard had recognized earlier. "Please, no." Picard whispered, too softly to be heard. The means of torture selected, the terrorist withdrew a short stemmed tube. As the terrorist stood up the tube was activated and a coil of green energy spat from one end to fall gracefully to the floor. It shimmered in the air, twitching. Admiral Lowndon jumped up. "Neuronic whips are forbidden under treaties observed by all members of this galaxy." he denounced. "You cannot do this." A short burst of energy spat out from the female terrorist leader's weapon and the admiral fell to the floor. Immediately, Surek knelt down beside the prone admiral to feel for a pulse. Finding one, he peeled back Lowndon's eyelids, noting the pupils contract. "He is stunned only." Surek informed the anxious hostages. "This time." the female leader pointed out. "The next person to interfere will be dealt with. You have my word." She turned to Picard's waiting tormentor. "We will proceed." At Earth Security Headquarters, Chief of Security Klaxos paced up and down the control room. Ever since the arrival of the terrorists at the Annual Starfleet conference his security team had been feverishly working to contain the situation. The last few minutes had been quiet, his team in suspense while they waited for the terrorists to make contact. Klaxos had ordered contact to be initiated within a minute of the transmission of Admiral Surek's speech cutting out, but all communication in and out of the reception hall had been blocked by some dampening device. The exception to this was a time coded communication to Klaxos that arrived literally seconds before the federation broadcast coverage of the dinner had been cut. The message had been brief and to the point informing the security chief that a terrorist operation to hijack the conference dinner was in progress and that interference in its successful conclusion would result in the elimination of the hostages. Klaxos had immediately detailed one of his officers to locate the source of the transmission, so far to no avail. Other than this Klaxos had no information that he could use. The speed with which the terrorists had arrived and their ability to seal the hall off had impressed him, he knew that he was dealing with a highly organized and efficient group. He had issued clear orders to his security teams to secure control around the reception and await orders. His communications staff were still busy fielding all the incoming traffic from concerned groups, Starfleet Command, Federation Council, relatives and the media to name a few. The USS Enterprise had also called in under the command of a Lt. Commander Data. Klaxos had requested the Enterprise to utilize its impressive sensors to scan surrounding space to determine the location of the terrorists escape vessel. Klaxos was well aware that few terrorists were fanatical enough to take on suicide missions. There was usually an escape route planned. Finally Klaxos had contacted Trantor Nogura and Tom Blakeney. Both were on their way. Blakeney had alerted the President. "Excuse me, sir." a young female interrupted his thoughts. "The media are demanding to know if Earth is under any threat from this incident. There is widespread concern that this is a preemptive strike to immobilize Starfleet." Klaxos groaned. "Inform the media that there is no threat to anyone or any planet other than those who were in the reception hall at the time the terrorists arrived." The woman nodded and left him. The doors to the control room opened silently and Nogura entered, closely followed by Blakeney. Klaxos nodded, indicating a nearby console that would update them. The two men pored over the data displayed there. "Sir." requested an officer monitoring the communications console. "I have an incoming message from a group claiming to be the hijackers. They call themselves The Araxsi." Klaxos glanced at Nogura, who shook his head. "Never heard of them." Nogura added. "Put it on the speakers, Lieutenant." Klaxos ordered. A female voice immediately began to speak, the voice strong and commanding. "Put me on to Klaxos now." it commanded. "Open a communication channel on this frequency." Klaxos ordered the lieutenant. "Open, sir." "This is Klaxos. Who am I speaking to?" Klaxos asked smoothly. "You can call me Araxsi. I lead this operation and I wish to state our demands." the female replied. "Go ahead, Araxsi. But first, I need to know how the hostages are." Klaxos replied. "All are alive. So far we have limited casualties by use of heavy stun. Their health now depends on you." Klaxos glanced at Nogura, who nodded. "State your demands, Araxsi." Klaxos requested. "The release of four prisoners held illegally by the federation for political reasons. They are to be provided full unconditional pardons by the appropriate authorities and provided with their own warp powered shuttles. The hostages will be released when I have personally spoken to all four prisoners." The voice fell silent. Klaxos thought carefully, considering the problems this would generate. "This will take some time to arrange, Araxsi." Klaxos finally ventured. "What are the names of these prisoners?" Four names were provided. One caused both Nogura and Klaxos to wince. "Pakrak Sish is a Romulan spy." Nogura whispered to Blakeney so that his voice would not be picked up by Araxsi. Even so, Klaxos frowned. "This will take some time to look into, Araxsi." Klaxos pointed out to the female terrorist. "We need proof that you will not harm the hostages. Before you arrived a young woman was being helped from the room, I believe she needs medical treatment. It would be very helpful if you released her." There was a short laugh over the communications. "I can give you better than that." Araxsi told him. "We are now on visual." Klaxos looked at his lieutenant who nodded. "Putting on your console now, sir." Klaxos, Nogura and Blakeney surrounded the console. The picture focused on Picard, alone on the dais. Blakeney whistled under his breath turning to the officer manning the comms. "Cut the audio." he demanded. When the lieutenant nodded Blakeney pointed to Picard's chest. "Computer, magnify picture." Blakeney stabbed at Picard's chest. "Look, he's been shot. See that small hole, it's bleeding." "What are they hoping to accomplish by this?" Nogura wondered aloud. Klaxos shook his head. "The captain doesn't look too good. Yes, Lt. Scott?" he asked the officer who had suddenly looked up from his position alarmed. "Sir, these pictures are being broadcast on several frequencies now. The media are already commenting on the significance of these pictures." "Damn." Blakeney thundered. "Picard's a hero to many in Starfleet and as the honorary speaker this year his name is known across the federation." "Lt. Scott. Patch me through to Araxsi." "Araxsi. What is the point of this?" Klaxos demanded. "It will not help negotiations. I demand you release Captain Picard immediately." "On the contrary, Klaxos." Araxsi replied silkily. "Picard provides you with a time limit. You have precisely one Earth hour in which to show proof that our demands are met. If by that time satisfaction has not been provided then a nuclear device embedded in Picard's heart will be detonated wiping out this conference and much of the surrounding area. To prevent unnecessary prevarication Picard will suffer the neuronic whip once every ten minutes starting now." To their horror a green glow briefly illuminated the screen, a snaking coil of energy caressing Picard's exposed and naked back. His anguished cry carried over the outburst of protests from the hostages. Shouting could be heard, and there were a few flashes of light before all went quiet. Nothing was visible except Picard's shaking body, his chest heaving to drag some air into his lungs. "What's happening, Araxsi?" Klaxos yelled. "No one is harmed, Klaxos. We anticipated trouble and have suppressed it. Several hostages will have blinding headaches, that's all. Be as quick as you can. Araxsi out." The picture disappeared. Klaxos looked across to Lt. Scott. "All signals have ceased, sir. Your own conversation with the terrorists was on a secure line, however everything else has been picked up live by the media." "Anyway to stop the media broadcasting?" Blakeney asked. Lt. Scott shook his head. "Too late, sir." Klaxos tapped his communicator pinned to his uniform. "Commander Vadoi." There was a short pause before Vadoi responded. "Vadoi here." "Vadoi, Lt. Scott will provide you with some names. Identify their current location, most likely penal institutions, and get me an immediate line to their commanding officer and to the governments of whatever planets they are on." He signed off and turned to Blakeney and Nogura. "Let's go to my temporary office here." he suggested pointing the way. Before following he turned to Lt. Scott. "Get me everything we have on the Araxsi and a voice analysis of their negotiator." "Sir." Scott interrupted him. "Commander Harcan reports his team are ready to move in on your command." Klaxos thought carefully, suppressing his natural instincts to sort this affair out quickly. He shook his head. "Tell him to stand by." he ordered. The Lieutenant was already repeating the order to his conn as Klaxos turned to leave the room. In the reception hall, several hostages were dragging stunned colleagues away from the tables. Araxsi had decided that there was too much confusion to deal with amongst the obstructing tables and had ordered the move. Dr. Crusher was checking pulses and pupils to ensure no one was in any real danger. The stun had been light this time, she noted. Admiral Lowndon was still unconscious, she would have preferred him in sickbay. Riker was already stirring. He groaned and Crusher knelt beside him. "My head." he mumbled massaging his temples with this fingers. "Do you feel sick?" Crusher asked him, helping him to sit up. "A little." Riker admitted. His eyes opened suddenly as his full memory returned. "The captain. Is he all right?" "I don't know. He's alive but I haven't been able to check him over." Riker observed Picard, he was patently in pain, his brain unable to absorb the damage done to his neural network, muscles twitching as a result. "Scum." Riker muttered looking round. At least fifteen starfleet officers and two members of the Council, he noted, had attempted to storm the dais when Picard had been struck by that venomous instrument of torture. They had barely moved two meters before a blanket of energy had stunned them all senseless to the floor. Riker conceded that the terrorists had full command and knew exactly what they were doing. "What about Deanna?" he asked Crusher. "She's beginning to stir. I'll keep an eye on her." "Will the Captain be all right?" he asked her anxiously. Crusher shook her head. "I'm not really sure." she admitted, clearly worried. Anxious green eyes studied him. "Will. I'm certain he won't survive an hour of this." Riker looked behind her at the female terrorist who had named herself Araxsi. She stopped beside them, her face still hidden by her mask. Her hand carried a thin pouch that she handed to the doctor. Crusher opened it, eyes widening in relief at its contents. "You may assist your Captain. We have no wish to kill him." Araxsi told her. Despite her words the tone was cool but Crusher needed no urging. Riker watched her cross to Picard and begin scanning him with a tricorder contained in the pouch. Within seconds she had started to administer treatment. He turned his attention to Araxsi who stood silently nearby. "Why?" he asked her, his tone clearly despising. "Quiet." She told him, threatening him briefly with her weapon. One of her cohort joined her. "Keep your eye on him." Araxsi commanded him, indicating Riker. "He's too foolhardy for his own good." Riker narrowed his eyes as Araxsi moved away. Perhaps he was, he thought, to have attempted his charge at the terrorist who had wielded that whip, but to do nothing would have been worse. Frustration gnawed at him. Where was security he asked himself for the hundredth time. It did not matter that he knew from academy classes on terrorism that attempts to directly attack hostage takers were only undertaken as a last resort once the situation had been fully assessed. Amateur hijacks were often resolved by quick and unexpected action and those prepared to martyr themselves for their cause were usually unstable and therefore less efficient. Professional terrorists were treated entirely differently and their threats taken very seriously. Riker had no doubt that this group fell into the latter category. The Federation's policy on terrorism was not to give way. Rarely, Riker thought, had the stakes been so high with so many important members of Starfleet Command and the Council present tonight. The terrorists were gradually herding the stunned hostages back to their seats as the effects began to wear off. His guard ordered him to move and carefully regaining his feet Riker obediently made his way back. Troi was conscious, being tended to by Alana Tollamn, a Council member who had been seated next to Riker. "She's awake." Alana told him immediately, "but very disorientated." He nodded his thanks. "Will." Troi whispered as he took her hand. "Is that you?" Riker knew that the betazoid could always sense his presence. She called him amzadi in private, which for betazoids indicated a unique and close relationship. Betazoids were telepathic, Deanna Troi was half human, and her telepathic abilities limited. Her skills though as an empath were very strong and had strongly influenced her in her choice of career in Starfleet. Troi was one of Starfleet's finest ship counselors. Riker too valued her highly, having once shared a close relationship with her. Just friends now, the memories they shared still bonded them closely. "I'm here beside you." he reassured her. "Pain, such pain." Troi moaned. Riker frowned. "Is it your stomach?" he asked. Troi shook her head, lifting it to look at him, deep black haunted eyes were shadowed and hollow. "No. Someone else. I know him. Too much pain." Riker glanced at Picard. Crusher was dabbing some water on his lips. "They're being cared for." he told Troi. "You must protect yourself." His concern mounted at the anguish she showed. He grabbed her arms and shook her to get her attention. "What are you doing?" Alana protested. Riker ignored her. "Deanna, you must put your shields up. That's an order, Counselor." Riker insisted, putting on his best officer command voice. To his relief, Troi suddenly relaxed, the starkness in her face eased. Alana smiled sudden understanding. Troi looked at him with increased comprehension. "Thank you." Already her eyes were closing, fatigue taking over now the pain she could feel had diminished. Riker let her lean against him and she was asleep in a moment. "That's a relief." Alana told him. "The best thing she could have right now." Riker nodded. Crusher was being escorted back to her seat, her pouch retained by Picard's guard. "He's all right for the moment." she informed them before Riker had a chance to ask. "His neural connections are still confused. I estimate a nine minute recovery time, but each new disruption will increase that. If this goes on for an hour I'm worried that his mind will be permanently damaged beyond even surgical help." "It's nearly eight minutes now." Riker noted, glancing at the chronometer. Crusher nodded. "We have to do something." she urged. Alana shook her head. "I'm sure Security Chief Klaxos is doing all he can. Our making the situation more complicated might prove counterproductive." she argued. Riker nodded. "I tend to agree with the councilor. This group is very efficient and superbly armed. I don't think we have seen everything available to them yet." "My dear". Alana consoled the doctor. "So far no one has actually been killed. I believe that's a good sign." Crusher sighed. "I hope you are right, Councilor, but I don't understand their motives towards Captain Picard. That nuclear device in his heart is no gesture of goodwill believe me." Riker looked round. Until now conversation had been very limited but the terrorists had seemed to relax slightly and there were huddles of hostages talking quietly all around them. "How much damage could it inflict?" he asked. Crusher shook her head. "I'm no weapons expert, except from a medical point of view but I estimate enough to destroy at least this city." Araxsi appeared behind them. "Enough talking." she ordered placing her weapon against Riker's ear. "Ten minutes is up." she told him. "Try not to interfere this time. It's my aim to get us all through this alive. You and your fellow heroes are not making that any easier." Riker glared at her. "I'll try to bear that in mind." he replied coldly. Araxsi nodded and removed her weapon from his head. "Good." Leaving them the terrorist joined the guards that had formed a prohibitive circle around the group of hostages. There was a brief moment of suspense. "Proceed." Araxsi ordered loudly. The President of the United Federation of Planets finally tore his eyes from the console on his desk on which he had listened to the terrorists' demands and their subsequent punishment of a Starfleet officer. A polite but insistent cough interrupted his somber thoughts and he looked at the three men who sat before his desk. The President knew Federation Chief of Security Klaxos was a formidable man. Nogura too was possibly the most able, intelligent man in Federation service, his skills masked by his generally relaxed attitude. Tom Blakeney he knew most well, being his personal aide and chief of staff. No one got to see the President without Blakeney's approval. Whatever these three had to say the president knew they would be in agreement. All they required now was his rubber stamp of approval that he would no doubt provide once their case had been presented. "Well gentlemen?" he invited. Tom Blakeney spoke immediately. "Mr. President. With the exception of Klaxos' conversation with the terrorist we will, for simplicities sake, call Araxsi, the rest of what you have just reviewed has been broadcast to the majority of Federation planets. Already several members or deputy members of the Council are demanding that Federation policy on terrorism is not compromised by the profile of the hostages concerned. However, the majority of public and political opinion has been swayed by the persons involved, notably Captain Picard. His exploits are well known and there is a swelling of support for his position. There is also the morale of Starfleet to consider, to lose a vast number of Starfleet command, not to mention the Federation Council members involved, would be a heavy blow to the Federation." "Hmm." the President conceded. "Picard is a particularly clever card these terrorists have thrown on the table. As this years honorary speaker his fate is of considerable interest. I agree we cannot afford to let him down but dumping policy could ultimately harm us worse in years to come. I'm surprised by your attitude on this, Tom." Intelligence Head Trantor Nogura shifted his huge bulk in his slightly too small chair. "Sir. These terrorists are holding to ransom our most senior and finest officers. The loss to Starfleet would be considerable, impairing its ability to serve the Federation effectively in the short term." "Are you advising me to give way to these terrorists?" asked the President, the inflection of his tone clearly displaying surprise at the direction this interview was taking. He watched them look at one another. As a group they were possibly the most powerful in the Federation with the exception of the President himself. Nogura continued. "Mr. President. We are hopeful that we have an agent who is working on this matter." Nogura paused as the president glared balefully at them. "I hope you are not telling me you had warning of this outrage." the President probed. "No. Sir." Nogura maintained his calm explanation. "But we did receive warning that an operation like this was planned and security was tightened as a result. Clearly not enough as we now see." "But." he continued as the President looked set to interrupt. "Our agent has alerted us that this attack is part of a larger plot that will threaten the Federation even more." Nogura paused to take breath. "Go on. Don't stop now." urged the President. "And don't forget time is running out." "We have no further details at this time. Only that this agent is highly respected and trusted. One of our best." The President knew better than to ask the agent's name. At best he would be given a code name, probably not even an accurate one he thought cynically. Nogura was incredibly protective of his agents in the field. "You want to let this one go then." he surmised. "Let your agent track down the major threat. What if this agent is wrong and we are seen to give way to terrorism when it threatens close to home." Klaxos added his weight to the discussion. "This is not an easy decision we ask you to make Mr. President. But we will do our best to ensure that terrorism is not seen to work." "And Picard? What do you believe the Araxsi intentions are for him?" the President persisted. "I do not know, Sir." Klaxos replied. "but I consider it vital that we find out more about this organization. These terrorists are our only lead. We can track the political prisoners too. See where that takes us." Blakeney interjected. "Mr. President. If we put our agents into the field we must put some faith in them. We have ignored intelligence reports to our peril before." The President sat back in his seat. "Well, when all three of you are in agreement it would be a foolish man that ignored you. Very well. Let this run its natural course on one condition. The Federation must not be seen to keel over to terrorism. Thank you Gentlemen. Keep me informed." In the reception hall Riker studied the Araxsi leader pacing up and down. The terrorists were getting nervous he decided. Araxsi was clearly concerned with the effect the neuronic beatings were having on Picard, more so than Riker would have thought possible. The terrorist leader had allowed Crusher permanent access to the captain to give medical aid, to the clear displeasure of the bulky terrorist who had been meting out the punishment. Riker had observed a heated discussion between them, one Araxsi appeared to have won. The atmosphere since had been tense, nerves were starting to fray among terrorists and hostages alike. Riker knew this could not go on much longer. Araxsi strode to the dais once more to consult Dr. Crusher. Before she reached the doctor the communicator on her tunic chimed and Araxsi responded instantly. Unlike the previous conversations this one was conducted quietly. Finally, Araxsi signaled Picard's guard to release him. Slowly the ceiling bolt released the length of chain until the steel rings around Picard's bleeding wrists could be removed. Under Dr. Crusher's supervision Picard was lowered unconscious to the floor. His body was still, the drugs Crusher had given him had obviously had some effect. Araxsi spoke something that caused the doctor to object. Frowning, Riker watched her return to her seat. "What's happening?" he whispered to her. "I'm not sure, but I'd guess their demands have been met." Crusher replied. "That means they need to make their escape." Riker surmised. Gently he shook Troi by her shoulder. "Deanna. Wake up." he urged the sleeping counselor, her head resting on the table. She stirred, lifting her head. "How are you feeling?" he asked her. She nodded, looking round. "Better. What's been happening?" "I'll fill you in later. Tell me what you can feel." Troi got his gist and looked round, her expression concentrated. Immediately she frowned. "What's happened to Captain Picard?" she asked urgently. "Ignore that. Anything else?" Puzzled Troi focused her attention again. "A sense of expectation." she described. "Immediately around us it is uncertainty that I feel most strongly. But over there." Troi indicated the terrorists. "it is more sure. Whatever is to happen I believe it is imminent." The terrorists were definitely preparing themselves. Picard's tormentor and the smaller guard had lifted him to his feet, supporting his body weight easily between them. Riker narrowed his eyes and certainty hit him like a thunderbolt. "They're not going to leave the captain." he stated. "What?" Crusher exclaimed under her breath. "Look at them." Riker persisted. Starfleet officers around them were coming to the same conclusions. An angry murmur began to build up. Two male officers of admiral rank on the table nearest to Picard and the terrorists began to launch themselves towards the helpless captain. His heart beating rapidly Riker threw caution to the winds and began to thread his way through the tables, his eyes fixed solidly on the female terrorist. As hostages threw themselves out of his way, Riker knew he would be too late. Araxsi watched his progress dispassionately, the two officers nearing them were just two meters away when the group including Picard shimmered away to leave empty space. With no one to block their headlong rush the two admirals crashed into the wall, Riker arriving just behind them. In seconds the reception doors blew wide open in a muffled explosion, followed by a storm of security guards rushing through the jagged hole that remained. Riker ran to the first security officer through the doors, raising his arms. "Commander Riker of the Starship Enterprise." he identified himself rapidly. "You've just missed them. They've just transported out of here." The security detachment's commanding officer absorbed this information. "Harcon to Control. The terrorists have just transported out. Repeat. The terrorists have just transported out." "They've taken Captain Picard with them." Riker persisted. "Did you get that Control? Captain Picard is still a hostage." Harcon repeated Riker's message to be sure. "Affirmative, Commander. The Enterprise is conducting full sensor sweeps of this sector. We'll find them." Control replied. "How could they transport out of here?" Riker demanded. Harcon did not reply at once, glancing round his team instead. Satisfied he turned his attention back to Riker. "Commander Riker. We do not know how they transported in yet, let alone how they managed to get out. We suspect a device has been planted somewhere in Earth's sensor network. The network has been feeding misinformation. We are heavily reliant on our spaceships in orbit to detect where the source of the transport is." Riker took a deep breath. "I want to get back to the Enterprise." "I'm sorry, Commander. My orders are to ensure all the hostages are interviewed and receive a complete medical check up." "I'm fine." Riker objected. "I can't just sit down here." "Frankly, Commander Riker. Helping federation security build up a complete profile of The Araxsi will prove of considerable more help than anything you can do on your ship. We have utmost confidence in Lt. Commander Data to do whatever is necessary." Surek appeared beside them. "Commander Riker. The officer's right. Let Security get on with their job." Harcon's communicator bleeped. He tapped it open. "Harcon here." "Commander, this is Security Chief Klaxos. I've been informed of Commander Riker's request. Please inform the Commander that the situation is being dealt with. He will be fully briefed as I have more information. Everything will be done to secure Captain Picard's safe return. Klaxos out." Admiral Surek raised a Vulcan eyebrow. "You are honored Commander Riker. Klaxos is not renowned for going out of his way for anyone." Harcon beckoned an officer. "Lieutenant. Please escort Admiral Surek and Commander Riker to the briefing lounge." Riker lifted his hands demurring. "I would rather join the rest of my crew." he said indicating Counselor Troi and Dr. Crusher. Harcon nodded and the lieutenant led the Admiral away. Riker crossed the room where Troi was almost looking her old self after receiving a much welcomed hypo spray of painkiller and a combatant drug to counteract the remaining poison in her system. "Any news of Jean-Luc?" Dr. Crusher asked immediately. Riker shook his head. "No. Apparently the Enterprise is involved in a sensor search of this sector of space. How are you feeling Deanna?" he asked kindly. "I'm fine. Thank you." Troi replied, "Beverly has been filling me in. This is terrible." Riker patted her shoulder in sympathy. Commander Harcon reappeared at Riker's shoulder, his expression conveying he was the bearer of grave news. "I'm sorry. Commander Riker. There has been an explosion in space, it is believed to be the terrorist's escape vessel. There is no chance of any survivors but a search is being carried out." Riker could barely begin to digest this sudden unexpected information. "What was the nature of the explosion?" Dr. Crusher asked slowly. Commander Harcon hesitated. "A nuclear explosion, Doctor. There seems little question that it was Captain Picard. I am very sorry...If you'll excuse me." Crusher nodded absently and Harcon considerately moved away leaving the three remaining officers from the Enterprise in complete and stunned silence. TBC [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] Buy Ink Cartridges or Refill Kits for your HP, Epson, Canon or Lexmark Printer at MyInks.com. Free s/h on orders $50 or more to the US & Canada. http://www.c1tracking.com/l.asp?cid=5511 http://us.click.yahoo.com/mOAaAA/3exGAA/qnsNAA/5x3olB/TM ---------------------------------------------------------------------~-> Yahoo! Groups Links <*> To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEM-S/ <*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: ASCEM-S-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com <*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ From ???@??? Sun Mar 21 18:18:18 2004 X-Persona: Status: U Return-Path: Received: from n18.grp.scd.yahoo.com ([66.218.66.73]) by bunting (EarthLink SMTP Server) with SMTP id 1b56tN6b53NZFmR0 for ; Sun, 21 Mar 2004 09:11:19 -0800 (PST) X-eGroups-Return: sentto-1978024-7932-1079889078-stephenbratliff=earthlink.net@returns.groups.yahoo.com Received: from [66.218.67.198] by n23.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 25 Mar 2004 02:25:12 -0000 X-Sender: sil@sileya.net X-Apparently-To: ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 39094 invoked from network); 25 Mar 2004 02:16:14 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.217) by m5.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 25 Mar 2004 02:16:14 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO mailstore.psci.net) (63.65.184.2) by mta2.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 25 Mar 2004 02:16:13 -0000 Received: from max (as2-d90-rp-psci.psci.net [63.69.225.186]) by mailstore.psci.net (8.12.2/8.12.2) with SMTP id i2P2CeMl019421 for ; Wed, 24 Mar 2004 21:12:41 -0500 Message-ID: <002701c4120f$12616a40$87c5fea9@max> To: "ASCEM-S" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Mailer: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1158 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 63.65.184.2 From: "Sileya" X-Yahoo-Profile: sileya MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEM-S-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Wed, 24 Mar 2004 20:15:40 -0600 Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW TNG Journey To Destiny Chap 3-6 / 17 P/C Reply-To: "Sileya" Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Title: Journey To Destiny Author: Celeste Email: celestetyroll@yahoo.co.uk Fandom: Star Trek TNG Pairing: Canon (I think) bit of Jean Luc/Other but really tiny Rating: R Status: Completed Beta: Not Betaed Warnings: Hurt/Comfort Archive: ASCEM. Others Please Ask. Email me if want Word Doc. Disclaimer: Star Trek TNG and its characters are the property of Paramount. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Summary: Jean Luc Picard is abducted. Filesize: 505KB Chapter 3 Picard was unaware of his transport to the place he now found himself, his brain only just starting to recover from the immense disruption caused to his central nervous system. Confused and fighting waves of pain that churned the contents of his stomach, Picard could not unravel the events that had preceded his arrival to what appeared to be a transporter room. Dimly perceiving that someone held him he struggled against the restricting hands around his upper arms, instinctively feeling the need to escape. "Let me go." he mumbled, his words slurred. His demand had no effect and Picard felt himself dragged along, glimpsing dark corridor walls around him before he was brought to a stop at the open doors to a larger circular room. The light stronger here Picard allowed his eyes to adjust, squinting to identify his surroundings. Slowly he recognized the features of this room. He was on a bridge, what or whose space ship he had no idea. Feeling stronger Picard tried to stand on his own, feeling his legs shakily take his weight. The two men who had been supporting him, released his arms, before pushing past him to take seats at two of the bridge stations. Senses slowly sharpening Picard noticed the considerable activity and shouting going on. He could hear the familiar sound of warp engines engaging and felt the slight thrust of acceleration. Memories of the conference shifted into focus in his mind. Vague understanding dawning, Picard turned to escape back down the corridor to the transporter room he had just left. Directly behind him he found a young woman, humanoid, her phaser pointing directly at his naked waist. Picard froze. His newest captor was beautiful, sensuous eyes studying him carefully. "Araxsi." Picard guessed as his memory flooded back and he recognized the terrorist leader's clothing. The woman responded with a brief nudge of her phaser against him. Mentally bowing to its pressure Picard slowly turned to move into the room. The movement irritated the wounds on his back, shards of pain nearly causing him to stagger. Gritting his teeth, Picard could not suppress the groan that escaped him. He stopped dead, belated shock creeping up on him as his mind began to recover. He felt sick. "You're shivering. Don't move. I'll get you a blanket." The Araxsi leader told him unexpectedly. Moving back down the corridor slightly, the terrorist pressed a control pad, releasing a panel in the corridor's walls revealing a medical supply. Her phaser still firmly covering Picard the terrorist pulled out a blanket. "Turn round." she ordered. Mutely Picard obeyed. He felt the blanket rest on his shoulders, the insulating material immediately taking effect, its weight on his shoulders just bearable. Gritting his teeth he pulled it closer round him. The phaser prodded him and he stepped forward onto the bridge. Picard was guided to a chair to one side of the bridge and careful to protect his back he sat down sensing the heightened tension around him. "Take your seats. Impact in 60 seconds." a tall thin man ordered from a centrally positioned armchair before which sat a display console. The commander of the bridge looked round, his sharp eyes spotting Picard. "Move it, Tal. Get him strapped down. " "Aye, Captain." Tal Caoussin replied. She threw a seat restraint around Picard, over his head and across his chest. Firmly taking Picard's left hand she placed it on the armrest. A restraint sprang up, locking itself round Picard's wrist. Picard looked into her deep brown eyes, their depths studded by emerald, a mute question in his own. He was certain she understood his point but a wave of her phaser was his only answer. Wearily he placed his other hand on the opposite armrest so it too was imprisoned on contact. "Twenty seconds. Cloak up." a voice commenced a countdown. The female, Caoussin, flung herself into a chair beside Picard, strapping herself in. The bridge was suddenly still, its occupants all seated and prepared for impact. A hushed silence fell. Picard watched the captain's fingers drum on the console. "Five, four." Picard braced himself. Beside him Caoussin's hand gripped the arm of her chair. "All remaining power to shields." The ship's captain ordered calmly. "One." A huge explosion from astern smashed against the ship's hull, alarms sprang up throughout the bridge, as the ship was pelted with debris. Picard was wrenched forward by an incredible force, his head whipping forward, before his seat restraint jerked him back. Pain shot through him as his muscles screamed against this latest ordeal. A pounding began in his temples and beneath the roar he heard himself vent an anguished cry. With a supreme effort he cut it off, gritting his teeth together. As the main shock waves subsided, the personnel on the bridge sprang into action. His captor was already out of her chair, manning the nearest console, viciously stabbing at panels in front of her. "Shields down. Keep that cloak up, Caoussin. Marta, transfer all power to cloak and warp engines. Trouder. Prepare for Warp six." the captain barked. Picard scanned the bridge, his eyes narrowing as he identified several pieces of Romulan technology on board. With the cloaking device it gave him a fair idea of the ship's origins. How it had reached so far into Federation territory without attracting attention before now he had no idea. Pushing a now severe headache to one side, his mind tried to unscramble this last event, considering the possibility that the terrorists were under attack by the Federation in pursuit. "Got it." Tal Caoussin triumphantly cried whilst continuing to check out the data displayed before her. "Engage." Dentor ordered. As they emerged relatively unscathed from the last remnants of the explosion, shooting away into warp space, a whoop rang round the bridge. Picard's already low spirits dropped even further as hardened faces around him broke into short relieved grins. Despite his predicament, he had to acknowledge the crew's skill, professionalism even, in keeping the vessel intact. "Cloak down. Power to engines resuming normal levels." Caoussin reported now they were safely out of sensor range, "Nice work, Dentor." Caoussin commented. The ship's captain turned to her, his arm describing a mock bow through the air. His flamboyant grin faded as the captain noticed Picard, eyes narrowing into a hard stare. Defiant, Picard returned the gaze. "So this is the infamous Captain Jean-Luc Picard. We have gone to considerable trouble to bring you into our happy throng." Dentor strode towards him, his words spoken mockingly. He stopped dead before Picard. Picard ignored him, fixing his eyes instead on the main view screen, absently estimating their speed at warp six from the rapidly distancing stars that fell behind them. Dentor suddenly brought his face up close so that Picard could feel the warmth of musky breath against his ear. "You will not cause me any trouble, Picard. You understand?" Dentor's threat was spoken mildly. Picard turned his head to glare at this latest antagonist. "Or you'll do what?" Picard hissed contemptuously, cold anger flaring. Dentor snapped his head back, then snorted as if dismissive of his prisoner's insubordination, before looking round as if in search for someone. A tall burly cardassion stepped forward, garbed in the black uniform characteristic of the terrorist party who had stormed the Starfleet reception barely an hour ago. Picard felt his throat constrict as he recognized the cardassion as the wielder of the neuronic whip. "Ah, Kalesh." Dentor murmured pleasantly, turning back to face Picard with a satisfied expression, but his next comment was clearly directed at the cardassion. "He's all yours." Picard stiffened as the cardassion replied with a sickly grin before moving in two long strides to stand over his helpless prisoner. Kalesh frowned, then grabbed the end of the blanket round Picard's neck. "Who gave you this?" he demanded sharply, looking accusingly at Dentor who shrugged his shoulders. Caoussin stepped forward, a hand subtly resting on her phaser. "I did. What of it?" "You had no right. This is my prisoner." There was a brief silence. Picard's discomfort grew alongside his confusion, but he did not miss the change in Caoussin's demeanor. Nor, he noted, did Dentor, Kalesh and the interested crew scattered throughout the bridge. Stepping aggressively forward the female terrorist spat her next words directly into the cardassion's surprised face. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Kalesh. I do not like you or your sick, sadistic methods." Caoussin pressed a step forward forcing Kalesh to step back, a nervous laugh from one of the female crew ignored. Her tone venomous she continued her fearless attack. "I will make it my business to watch you Kalesh, and if I think you go too far I will make sure you know about it. I have invested much in this job and I will not let you jeopardize it. Got that?" Holding the cardassian's gaze long enough to ensure the message got home, Caoussin then looked challengingly around the rest of the crew stopping when she reached Dentor. Picard fully expected the ship's captain to assert his position but to his surprise Dentor appeared to be amused by Caoussin's outburst and merely shrugged his shoulders. Clearly Dentor cared little for the cardassion himself. "Dentor, are you going to let her get away with that?" the cardassion protested. His eyes narrowed as both Caoussin and Dentor turned his back on him signaling to the rest of the crew to do likewise. "I'm sure you can fight your own battles, Kalesh. Leave me out of it." Dentor threw back over his shoulder. Kalesh glowered at Caoussin's back before turning his angry face to Picard. The human flinched, unable to help himself as Kalesh reached towards him. The memory of his treatment at this criminal's hands still haunted him but Kalesh merely released his restraints. "Get up." Kalesh ordered, a hand pointedly hovering over the phaser clipped to the huge belt encircling the cardassion's large torso . Picard stood up slowly, partly out of deference to his wounds but also to express his own contempt for Kalesh. "Don't push me too far, human." Kalesh warned him, eyes narrowed. With a quick gesture the cardassion indicated Picard should proceed him out of the bridge. Picard felt the blanket draped round his shoulders slipping and reached a hand up to check its fall. Tugging it back in place Picard moved in the direction indicated, glancing at the data displayed on the consoles they passed. The ship was definitely Romulan he decided recognizing some of the symbols displayed which was surprising given the variety of species represented by the crew of this vessel. A rough shove against his back sent him stumbling through the bridge doors as Kalesh noted his surreptitious glances at the consoles. Picard gritted his teeth refusing to let Kalesh see how much his treatment of Picard at the reception below continued to trouble him. He did not believe he would receive any medical treatment to heal the sore wounds across his back or reduce the aftereffects from the onslaught on his neural system and every instinct in him refused to betray to his captors the extent of his discomfort. The cardassion continued to harass him through the ships corridors so Picard barely noted the pale grey and cold metallic walls. After a few turns Kalesh stopped him at a door before pressing a security panel beside it with the palm of his hand. The doors parted, opening on to a bare room except for a single chair placed in its center. Picard shivered as he entered following a none too gentle prod from Kalesh, the temperature inside was definitely below normal. Kalesh followed him in and the doors closed automatically with barely a sound. Picard gazed round appraisingly before slowly turning to face the cardassion who stood silently observing him with glittering black eyes. The sight of that empty chair lingered ominously in his mind's eye. Picard did not want to consider the future it indicated for him in this cheerless room but any hopes he might have had of a better one were dashed by the cruel and twisted features of the alien that stood before him. An alien certain to dominate his imprisonment on this cloaked ship heading at great speed on a journey far from Picard's home world and his life in Starfleet. Chapter 4 On the Starship Enterprise, following his release from the unwanted attentions of Harcon and his investigation into the terrorist attack, Commander Riker prepared to attend his own conference with the ship's senior officers in the briefing room. In the few hours since their return to the familiar territory of the Enterprise various members of the crew had been busy with their own investigations into the events of the last ten hours. Right now Riker was grabbing a much needed shower in his quarters before changing into his less formal duty uniform. With the loss of Captain Picard, Riker had command of the Enterprise and the responsibility weighed on him as his mind grappled to come to terms with the grief that threatened to overwhelm him at the loss of a friend and mentor, as well as his captain. With a final tug on his uniform, which briefly brought a smile to his face at the memory of Picard this invoked, Riker left his quarters to make his way to the bridge. Captain Picard had straightened his uniform almost as a matter of course whenever he stood up. Nodding briefly to the somber crew members he passed in the ship's corridors Riker finally acquired the relative peace of the turbo lift. To Riker, impatient to get to work, the turbo lift seemed to take twice as long to reach the bridge as normal. The doors opened and he stepped onto the bridge. Lieutenant Commander Data, still in command on the bridge, rose from the command chair, but Riker motioned the android to stay put, making his way instead to the captain's ready room. He could feel the Data and the rest of the bridge crew watch him go in. Safely inside, Riker released his pent up breath and looked around. The room seemed as much Picard's as it had ever done, the captain's exotic fish swimming in the display tank inset into the walls. It was not the first time Riker had been obliged to take his place in the ready room as the acting captain of the Starship Enterprise, but each time had been difficult. This time was no different. With a mental salute to its former occupant Riker straightened and in a few long strides had reached the captain's desk. Quickly he sat down and activated the console. The codes throughout the ship had already been altered as was standard following the loss of Starfleet command officers in unusual circumstances. Quickly Riker accessed the captain's log and rapidly brought it up to date. Once this uncomfortable task had been completed he scanned the various reports that had been directed to the captain noting with interest reports on the activity around Earth's orbit since the arrival of the terrorists on Earth. Reports had been filed within seconds of the lost communication with the conference Riker noted, entering a short note commending Lt. Commander Data's quick response. In just ten minutes Riker was up to date and had memorized the pertinent facts recorded. Noting it was time to join the others in the conference room he stood up. As he passed through the bridge Data relinquished command to the duty officer on helm and followed him to the ship's conference room dominated by a long curving table containing display consoles inset into its surface for the use of those sitting at it. The atmosphere was subdued and the officers present looked tense. Counselor Troi in particular looked pale and drawn. Medical treatment had reversed the effects of the poisoning she had suffered but the Counselor looked far from being fully recovered with the additional strain of returning immediately to duty. Riker could only guess at the difficulties of counseling the ship's crew at this time. Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge, the ship's Chief Engineer, looked untypically glum and the Klingon, Lieutenant Worf, fairly glowered with concealed emotion. Only Data looked his normal self. Dr. Crusher was the last to arrive, mumbling a brief apology for being late, something about some medical emergency. She did not elaborate so clearly Riker did not need to concern himself with it. He nodded and Crusher took her customary seat that had been left vacant. Also vacant was the chair at the head of the table. Riker sat in it. He looked at the expectant faces that stared at him and the few words he had mentally rehearsed on his way seemed false and empty. Searching for words he began. "I very much regret having to call this meeting. Reports of Captain Picard's death have been widely broadcast and it has been a great shock to all the crew. I am very aware that we have our jobs to get on with and that will not be easy right now." "However, I feel that at the very least we owe it to Captain Picard to study the circumstances, to find an explanation for what has happened. Personally I find the destruction of the terrorist's escape ship ..." he paused searching for the right word, "..odd." He stopped, not sure if he had expressed himself clearly but his audience looked supportive and interested in what he wanted to say so he pressed on. Forcing a more business like tone to his voice he asked Data to fill them in on his analysis. The android leaned forward. "As you are all aware, I managed to fix a trace on the terrorist's escape transport signal and traced it to a space cruiser on the edges of Earth's orbit. The signal was encrypted and consequently unreadable by standard Federation transport systems resulting in Federation Security's failure to lock in on the transport." La Forge raised his hand to interrupt. "How did you trace the signal then?" the engineer asked interested. "I was applying traces to all signals emanating from and to Earth, sweeping all frequencies continuously, following the hijacking of the Starfleet conference. Although the data was unintelligible the trace was able to be hooked on. Because of the strange nature of the data, Lt. Worf monitored the cruiser closely and noted its disappearance whilst traveling at full impulse speed in a manner consistent with the use of a cloaking device. Subsequent analysis confirms this, and that the cloaking appears to be Romulan in nature." Data stood up and requested the computer to display a section of space as scanned at the time of the terrorist's escape. Immediately the wall display screen lit up, empty except for a proliferation of stars in the familiar patterns of the Milky Way from Earth's perspective. "This." Data continued. "is the visual scan taken just before the explosion resulting in the reported death of Captain Picard and the terrorists. The area of space depicted follows the extrapolated path of the space vessel's heading after it cloaked." Data allowed the sequence to run resulting in a sudden burst of light, that looked just like a ship being blown apart. Data stopped the sequence and reran it. La Forge leaned forward, intently following the slowed replay with the benefit of his visor's ability to analyze the electromagnetic spectrum and the specialist engineering knowledge of his field . "There's something not quite right." he stated with conviction, "but I'm not quite sure what." he admitted. Data nodded in agreement. "It took some time but my analysis admits the possibility of the explosion resulting from a ship on a heading inconsistent with that extrapolated from the cruiser receiving the transport signal. In addition there are some strange readings from the scanners, which when analyzed show a spaceship configuration consistent with the cruiser for a time period equivalent to 0.5 nano seconds." "I don't understand." Troi jumped in. "Don't we expect the ship to be there. Presumably the cloaking device was destroyed by the explosion." "Correct." replied Data, "but the main blast of the explosion had taken place micro seconds before the cloak failed. It is highly unlikely that the vessel was still so intact at that point." "Then what did explode?" Dr. Crusher asked intently. Lieutenant Worf. answered. "Commander Data and I ran some scenarios by the computer to try and explain the readings taken. On my home planet there was a popular game of dare amongst the younger people. Two, three or more would take a land vehicle to the desert and charge at each other, timing their speed to miss the others by a fraction. It took great skill and courage to get it just right. Many died." Worf added for the benefit of Dr. Crusher who looked outraged. Riker hid a smile before gesturing Worf to continue. "We tried the same principle here, placing two identical ships, on two similar headings, aiming to cross and pass each other at incredible speed with less than seconds to spare." The klingon paused for effect. "It worked too." "And which ship was Captain Picard on?" Troi asked. Everyone's attention hung on the answer. Data supplied the desired information. "The ship that decloaked briefly after the explosion, assuming the signal tracked to the cruiser was the transport signal we believe it is. The cruiser was still heading on the extrapolated path plotted by the computer. It is possible that the cloaked vessel then initiated warp speed for a short period of time, seconds even, before power levels fail. There has been no trace of the crusier detected since. It is unlikely that it remained in the vicinity." There was a general release of air around the table as the implications sunk in. "Have we any confirmation of this?" Riker asked, hope warring with cold reason. Lieutenant Worf nodded. "Just before we convened I received a report from Federation Security who are investigating the site of the explosion. No traces of organic tissue consistent with humanoid tissue. This has not been deemed conclusive of anything by the investigators due to the nature of a nuclear explosion but the findings are consistent with our analysis here." "So you believe that Captain Picard is still alive?" Crusher asked her eyes alight with hope. The light dimmed. "But still a prisoner with some very ruthless criminals. How can we find them now?" she pondered turning to Riker. Riker did not reply, watching the replay of the explosion which Data was rerunning for them to watch again. He visualized in his mind the two cloaked vessels moving together on a course designed to cross, missing each other by a fraction at full speed, one presumably empty and rigged to destroy itself in a nuclear explosion, possibly triggered by remote control. The explosion would have rocked the terrorists escape ship, causing it to decloak for a fraction of time. The only error in the whole devious operation. "It requires incredible precision." he declared. "but it is a possibility and if there is a chance Captain Picard is alive we are going to find him." Worf bristled with indignation. "If the Enterprise had been cleared to follow we may still know where they were headed. As it is they could be anywhere now and all Federation Security is doing is investigating the remains of an empty ship." "What do you intend to do?" Counselor Troi turned to Riker. A little color had returned to her cheeks, he noticed. Everyone seemed happier now they had some hope to cling to. He prayed to God they were right. "I will file a report with Starfleet Command detailing our findings and requesting permission to begin an immediate search for the terrorists. In the meantime consider this information classified and continue your duties as if nothing had changed. I do not want to raise hopes prematurely throughout the ship." Riker replied, addressing them all. He stood up. "Commander Data. Please continue your analysis with Lieutenant Worf. I want you to study every aspect of this event. For instance, why was Counselor Troi poisoned? What was the terrorist's interest in the captain? Lieutenant Worf. See what else you can find out from Federation Security. I want full reports for oh nine hundred hours tomorrow morning when we will reconvene this meeting. If no one has anything else?" He paused briefly before continuing. "Good work, Data, Worf. Dismissed." As they all trooped out buzzing with ideas Riker slowly sat down, placing his hands on the smooth rounded edge of the table, gripping it tightly, before releasing the tension in them, feeling his shoulders relax. Slowly he exhaled. Finally he could do something. Suddenly rising to his feet he strode to the captains's ready room, and for once not feeling the customary awkwardness he felt when newly filling the captain's chair in such situations, he immediately sat down to file his report. Admiral Nogura frowned. He was back in his office analyzing the hundreds of reports crossing his desk. His intelligence staff were fielding the thousands currently flowing through the federation from various sources including Starfleet and the media. Blakeney was ensuring Intelligence received all political communications and Klaxos was supplying the latest reports from his investigations. All these reports were analyzed, collated and summaries supplied to Nogura so he could sift through those highlighted for his attention by an experienced and thorough intelligence team. This last report had been highlighted red on his screen requiring his immediate attention and dutifully he had accessed it immediately. He had noted the sender was Commander Riker from the Starship Enterprise and his interest had piqued as he studied it carefully. Now he sat back, eyes closed, his hands folded and resting lightly on his slightly overweight belly. The report was very thorough and Admiral Nogura was impressed at the android Data's analysis of the situation. Captain Picard had always been good at bringing together a superb crew, usually little to do with luck but more to do with good leadership. Right now Intelligence was running their own analysis to confirm the findings. It was still a strong possibility, despite the android's inherent objectiveness, that the crew of the Enterprise were clutching at straws. But if they were not, then it answered a few of Nogura's own questions and raised a few more. Hence Nogura's concern. Assuming Intelligence corroborated the Enterprise's findings, Nogura did not want the Enterprise set loose on the terrorist's trail, potentially making Jasper's position more difficult. From his records Commander Riker was not an officer to give up easily. In addition Jasper would be expecting Nogura to provide discreet back up. At the same time it was imperative to maintain the official story that the terrorists had died during their escape with the tragic loss of a Starfleet officer. Nogura was certain that Jasper had maneuvered events to provide the federation with a way out of the political minefield that was bound to follow the successful hijacking of Starfleet's own, with the additional benefit of providing a false sense of security to the terrorist organization behind the outrage. It left a fragile status quo Nogura did not want threatened, especially now Picard was involved. Nogura made his decision. For several minutes he busied himself at his computer, preparing his orders and easing the way with Starfleet and Federation Security. Finally he produced a sealed disk. Easing his bulk out of his comfortable armchair Nogura straightened, stretching tired muscles. The door to his office chimed. "Enter." he replied. Commander Uroyas entered, a young beautiful Vulcan female whose lovely features never failed to distract the unwary from the razor sharp abilities of her intellect. "Admiral." Uroyas greeted him. "A fine piece of work by the Enterprise. Our analysis finds no fault with Lt. Commander Data's findings. The possibility that the terrorist's ship escaped intact are sixty four point zero five to one approximately. It is my recommendation to proceed on the assumption that the terrorists and possibly Captain Picard are alive." "Thank you, Commander." Nogura replied, scanning the datapad Uroyas handed him. "If that is all, sir?" Nogura looked up. "Actually no, Commander. As it happens I would like you to accompany me on a trip to the Enterprise. Come. I will explain on the way." Before finally leaving his office with the vulcan commander Nogura requested his personal aide to let Commander Riker know to expect him onboard the Enterprise. No fuss. Fifteen minutes later the Admiral and Commander Uroyas beamed aboard the Enterprise to Transporter Room One where Commander Riker waited impatiently. Other than the arrivals the rooms only other occupant was the transporter chief. Standing to attention Commander Riker greeted Admiral Nogura, nodding courteously to the Vulcan Commander who accompanied him. "Commander Riker, I'm very pleased to meet you. I am only sorry that it has to be in such circumstances." Admiral Nogura returned genially. "Let me introduce you to Commander Uroyas." Uroyas regarded the six foot Riker gravely, before extending a hand. Riker shook it briefly, Vulcans were not inclined to touch. "Commander." he acknowledged. Turning to the closed doors leading to the corridor, Riker gestured his guests to accompany him. "I thought we would be more comfortable in the ship's conference lounge." Riker explained leading the way. Both Nogura and Uroyas studied with intense interest the layout of the Enterprise, Starfleet's flagship. At the door to the Conference lounge Riker stood back to let his guests through, before entering after them. The door silently closed behind him. "I have to admit to surprise at your quick response to my report. To be honest I expected Security would be contacting us." Riker admitted. "Ah. Intelligence have a considerable interest in this case and I am in full cooperation with Federation Security in this matter." Nogura explained. "Perhaps you have information that would help us track the terrorist's escape ship?" Riker asked intently. The Admiral settled himself into his chair. "I read your report, Commander." he began, seemingly ignoring Riker's question, his voice taking on a grave tone. "Your officers have carried out a first rate investigation. However, that report has not been substantiated by the official investigation team. It is considered that your crew obviously hold deep affection for Captain Picard and that this has colored your views." Riker raised a hand, swallowing down his anger at this dismissal of his officer's abilities to maintain their objectivity. But the Admiral overrode his forthcoming protest by raising a solitary finger and pushing on. "That will be the official story." The word official was clearly stressed. With a sudden certainty that the Admiral was not opposing him Riker relaxed slightly and sat back in his chair. "I'm listening." he offered. Nogura leaned forward, his eyes pinning Riker's, so Riker felt forced to return the gaze or betray nervousness. Commander Uroyas had barely flickered a muscle since she had sat down, but far from looking tense she appeared poised and relaxed. Riker envied her composure. "It is of utmost importance in the interests of federation security that the terrorist's illusion of destruction is maintained. Politically it is vital that federation policy on terrorism remains intact. For the federation to witness terrorist demands being met with the perpetrators then escaping ... well, you must see this is potentially very damaging." Riker frowned, unable to maintain his silence but forcing himself to maintain a polite tone. "And Captain Picard? How does his fate fit in with the politics of this situation?" Nogura sat back, his concentration on Riker seeming to abate slightly. Not for a moment did Riker believe Nogura had lessened his observation of him. "Well, that is not all. It is even more vital that an operation related to this crime is not threatened in any way." "May I ask what the nature of this operation is?" Riker probed, carefully maintaining a blank mask that hid his very real fear that he was being led astray in some way. "We do not know the nature." Admiral Nogura paused for effect. Riker noticed that Uroyas seemed more alert too. Perhaps he was not the only one in this room that felt bewildered. He suspected the Admiral had a flair for the dramatics and he resisted the urge to shake the information out of him. Fortunately Nogura continued. "Except that this act of terrorism is related and that Captain Picard is somehow involved. For what reason we have no idea. This is what I want you to find out." Riker sat up, taken aback by the admiral's final statement, his eyes reflecting his sudden interest. "Your mission is Priority One classified and is contained in these sealed orders." Nogura produced a slender disk which he placed carefully on the table before him. "These orders are classified from all but your most senior trusted officers. Your official mission will be to assist Commander Uroyas as an official representative of the investigating team. Commander Uroyas will in fact act as your advisor, but understand she also has her own orders to fulfill. If and when appropriate Commander Uroyas's mission will take priority over that concealed here." Admiral Nogura nodded at the disk. He stood up to leave. Immediately Riker stood up to join him, his mind teeming with questions to ask. "Sir? Do you believe Captain Picard is alive?" Riker finally spoke the thought foremost in his mind. Admiral Nogura turned to face him, his craggy face appearing to soften momentarily. "I hope to God he is, Commander Riker. I knew your Captain quite well once. Which is why I am glad that it is the Enterprise that has this mission. I know you will do your best." The unexpected warmth touched Riker and he felt a creeping respect for Nogura grow. As Nogura reached the door, he paused, turning round to face Riker directly. "Oh, by the way. You are hereby promoted to Field Captain of the Enterprise for the duration of this mission. My congratulations and good luck." "Sir." Riker straightened, briefly showing his pleasure at the promotion, however temporary. "And thank you." Nogura nodded before turning to Commander Uroyas who was also standing. "Commander." he said by way of a simple farewell. Uroyas nodded gravely. "I'll see myself out." the Admiral told Riker, forestalling the newly promoted captain's intention to accompany Nogura to the transporter room. The door closed behind him. Riker turned to find Commander Uroyas at his elbow. "May I offer my congratulations, Captain. Please let me assure you I intend to offer you as much assistance as I can in finding Captain Picard." Commander Riker studied the classically shaped face, pointed dark eyebrows delicately framing deep black eyes. Suddenly he relaxed, her words were sincere and he was gratified to detect a hint of warmth in her otherwise cool and appraising eyes. "Welcome aboard, Commander. I will have Commander Data assign you your quarters. Do you have any personal belongings you wish to bring onboard?" "I do. It is ready to beam up." "Data will arrange that too. Let me introduce you to him and then I have to admit I am eager to study these orders." He indicated the disk lying on the table. "Are you familiar with the contents?" "Admiral Nogura gave me a brief summary. I will be glad to discuss them with you if you wish." Uroyas offered. Riker smiled, gesturing to the door that would lead them directly to the bridge where Data currently sat in command. "I think I had better read them first." he pointed out. The Vulcan Commander took no offense. On the bridge Riker introduced Uroyas to Data before retreating to his ready room. With a sigh of relief he inserted the disk into the file reader and settled down to study its contents. A slight frown furrowed his forehead, the information Nogura had to supply on the terrorists was sketchy at best. The Enterprise was going to be very much on its own despite the addition of Uroyas to their number. Riker hoped very much that tomorrow's scheduled briefing would prove more illuminating. Chapter 5 When Riker entered the conference lounge at zero nine hundred hours precisely he was gratified to see everyone present and waiting. Commander Uroyas had joined them at his request and sat beside Data. Riker was pleased to see she appeared to have settled in reasonably quickly and was currently engaged in a vivid discussion with Data. As he moved to take his seat Riker caught part of their conversation. Data was in full flow on the error parameters used in the computer's simulation of a vessel moving through space at warp speed. Fascinating at any time thought Riker wryly. Polite silence fell as he took his seat at the head of the table. "Good morning." Riker began, his gaze roaming the table. "You have all met Commander Uroyas who has joined us to assist our investigation into the disappearance of the terrorist's escape ship and Captain Picard, so let's get down to business." Quickly Riker updated them on Admiral Nogura's orders emphasizing that a strict communications black out on the possibility of the terrorists being alive was to be operated. Classified information on the investigation would be on a need to know basis only. "These are orders imposed on us by Admiral Nogura." Riker explained, "and ones I fully support. Until we have positive proof of Captain Picard's survival I do not want to give false hope to this ship's crew. More importantly, communications from this ship with friends and family may innocently let slip something that finds its way into the terrorist network eliminating our only advantage." "This advantage being that the Araxsi believe Starfleet will not be looking for them?" Dr. Crusher queried. "Exactly." Riker confirmed. "I don't fully understand Federation Security's position in this?" La Forge interrupted with a sidelong glance at Uroyas. "Exactly how much was known in advance about this terrorist operation? For instance, I never understood why Security gave into the Araxsi's demands so quickly, despite the circumstances. Until now policy on terrorism within federation territory has never been compromised." "This is true." Data agreed. "I have studied all recorded incidents of terrorist hostage situations within the past fifty years and in all of these incidents federation policy has been firmly upheld." "Captain. If I may?" Uroyas interjected. Riker nodded. Commander Uroyas placed her wrists on the edge of the table, her fingertips joined to form an arch. Her voice was firm and her manner composed. "Intelligence was forewarned of a possible terrorist threat four days ago. However the parameters and targets were unknown. The information received indicated that this attack was part of a more serious threat to federation security. It was agreed at the highest levels that learning more about the organization behind the Araxsi's appearance was more important than policy in this instance. In addition it was impossible to ignore the pressure applied by the terrorist's abuse of Captain Picard." "It is difficult to see how federation policy would have prevented Captain Picard's fate in the circumstances." Data pointed out. "What else do you know, Commander Uroyas?" Riker inquired, uncomfortable with the explanation given by the Intelligence representative, but unable to pinpoint any reason behind his disquiet. "With your permission, Captain, I would like hear your officer's reports first. It will enable me to give you as much help as I am authorized to at the present time." Riker mulled on this for a moment, suppressing his natural instinct to inquire what other agendas Intelligence had in mind. However, he realized that this would be an unfair position to place Uroyas in and she seemed genuinely keen to help. "Very well." he concurred a trifle reluctantly. He turned to the ship's chief medical officer. "Dr. Crusher. Perhaps you could start." Crusher nodded, her fiery hair bobbing gently on her shoulders. "My analysis of the drug administered to Counselor Troi has determined a concoction of a particularly potent food poison, inducing severe stomach cramps and low blood pressure mixed with a sedative to provoke drowsiness and disorientation. The effects are purely transitory and at the doses administered effective for approximately seventy minutes." Crusher glanced at Troi sympathetically before continuing. "The purpose behind this seems twofold. One, Counselor Troi provided a distraction for the terrorists arrival. Two, Deanna's empathic abilities were severely restricted. The counselor has undergone regression therapy to try and recall her memories and impressions. There is very little, just brief flickers of awareness." Uroyas intervened. "This suggests a significant amount of preparation by the terrorists and inside knowledge on seating arrangements and the guest list. Your findings concur with Federation Security's investigation, but your observations on Counselor Troi's empathic abilities is very interesting." "How was the poison initially administered?" Riker asked. "Chocolate." Troi admitted sheepishly. "Someone knew me very well and I couldn't resist." She shuddered. "Never again. I was feeling a little better just before the Captain was shot, which was when the second shot was given using a hypo gun." "The chocolate contained very minute quantities of the drug to reduce its effect on the chocolate's taste." Uroyas explained. "A booster was thus required." Troi nodded. For once her curly black hair was scraped back and held in a convoluted knot behind her head which was unable to fully contain a few tendrils that escaped at random. She continued, her eyes intently scanning the group sat around the table. "I do remember a fleeting impression of the female who injected me. A sense of distance but still keenly focused. The impression was consistent with someone who is used to repressing their emotions." "Anything else, Counselor?" Riker pressed. Troi shook her head firmly. "What about the suggestion of an insider?" Riker threw out randomly. Lt. Worf sat up straighter. "All personnel except for one waiter have all been checked out by Earth Security. This waiter proved to have false credentials and has since disappeared. He was not caught up in the hijacking itself and made his escape well before security had been alerted." the klingon explained. His frustration was all too apparent. Riker glanced at Uroyas who shook her head. "We suspect the waiter was well disguised. No trace has been found." Riker turned back to Dr. Crusher. "Doctor, what about the chip the Araxsi used on Captain Picard." Crusher's deep green eyes darkened with anger as she recalled the injury inflicted. "As you know the scanner I used was confiscated." Again no evidence Riker thought, frustrated at the efficiency the Araxsi had displayed. Crusher continued. "But the chip required expert knowledge of artificial organ replacements, possibly someone involved in their manufacture or in the medical profession, to ensure the chip could replicate itself into the structure. The inclusion of a miniature nuclear device capable of remote detonation would require weapons expertise. However before the Araxsi leader took the tricorder from me I managed to scan her briefly." Riker sat up, noticing a similar reaction around the table. He felt his pulse quicken. "Doctor. That was highly risky." Uroyas rebuked. "If the tricorder had been checked!" "Well, I had to do something." Crusher replied defensively. "I was able to check out the reading later when I was allowed to give the captain medical assistance. The scan was very basic but I did spot a small anomaly in her blood type. I spent last night researching the pattern with all known blood types throughout the federation limiting the search to humanoid species. Please remember I have only my memory to rely on so there is room for error... but I am certain it matches a type associated with a racial genetic trait descended from the Tibetian race from Earth. "I then requested the computer to run a search against all records with a match for this abnormality. There are ten thousand matches. The computer next eliminated all males, females under twenty and over forty before cross referencing history etc. This is where we get really lucky. The profile narrowed down to one woman, human and from Earth. Her name is Talinka Caoussin and she comes from a well respected family with a strong Starfleet background." Crusher paused, her audience was riveted. "Talinka Caoussin completed her final year at Starfleet Academy ten years ago." she informed them pointedly. Riker blinked at this unexpected information. Crusher requested the computer to display Caoussin's file and the wall display lit up with a young, beautiful woman, proudly wearing the uniform of a Starfleet cadet from twelve years ago. A soft smile hovered around her lips and dark brown eyes appeared to sparkle. She was certainly striking thought Riker swiveling his chair to take a clear look. Crusher left the display up while she continued, its innocence a bittersweet contrast to the story that followed. "Caoussin was top of her class receiving the highest marks awarded for six years. Then the bubble burst. Starfleet Academy discovered evidence of cheating in the final exams. In the uproar that followed Caoussin was summarily expelled and thrown out of Starfleet in disgrace. The family were terribly ashamed and, purely reading between the lines, pulled some strings to avoid an actual court martial." Geordi La Forge released a low whistle. "What a way to finish a glittering career before it had even begun." he commented. "Do you believe she has a grudge against Starfleet?" Riker asked. "Undoubtedly. Not only that, Caoussin disappeared for two years, there are few records of her activity as a citizen, just transport records to various planets. For one year the trail disappears entirely. The next record on her is a security report from Dentos 3 near the Romulan border. She had fallen in with a group of drug runners in the sector. Following this there are several reports suggesting her involvement in major criminal activity, never proven, escalating up to terrorism on a grand scale. She is rumored to have expert electronics knowledge and to be a brilliant strategist." "This is excellent work, Doctor." Riker commented. "None of this would ever hold up in a federation court of law." Crusher pointed out. "The only evidence is a memorized blood type pattern. No proof." Riker turned to Troi. "Do you believe this is the same person?" he asked, not holding out much hope. He wasn't surprised by her frown. "I've no reason not to think so, but there is no way I could be sure." she replied. "Caoussin is a known terrorist." Uroyas offered, "and would certainly be capable of leading the hijacking. This is a considerable step forward and I will send this data back to Intelligence for further analysis as a Priority One." Riker nodded before deciding to move swiftly on, requesting the computer to close Caoussin's file. The wall screen darkened instantly to its former bland color. "Commander Data, what can you tell us?" Data nodded. "I have focused my attention on the terrorist's access and subsequent escape from the reception hall. Quite sophisticated." Data described how the terrorists had used a transporter to beam directly into a locked sidearm off the entrance. "A portable transporter was discovered inside which Security believe was used to facilitate the terrorist's transport into the reception hall. From the sideroom the terrorists were in a position to monitor events and presumably time their arrival to coincide with the diversion engineered by poisoning Counselor Troi." "Why was their unauthorized transport not detected." Riker asked. "I did not at first understand how the transport circumvented the security shielding in the area. I eventually narrowed the possibilities to the obvious. Another insider." Data replied. Worf picked up the thread. "Like the waiter." he growled. "Except this one was traceable. Lt. Eantor Harget has not reported for duty since the hijacking and security have not yet managed to locate him. Lt. Eantor was a computer technician and in a position to provide the terrorists with codes, sufficient for someone with an expert knowledge of transporter systems to ensure the unauthorized transport was not reported. Investigations into Harget's personal life has uncovered huge gambling debts, incurred illegally. It requires little imagination to assume bribery was used." Worf concluded . A short silence fell. Riker mulled the facts in his mind. So far this information was all very useful and began to profile the terrorists and their capabilities but it did not help them work out where to start looking for the terrorists now. Presently the Enterprise was following the heading taken by the terrorists before their ship cloaked as this was their only possible option. Riker needed more. He was desperately concerned that their chances of finding Picard alive reduced as more time slipped by. Counselor Troi clearly sensed his feelings. "Perhaps we should keep going." she suggested. "Data. How did the terrorists escape?" "The terrorists were able to signal their escape cruiser and transport out in the same manner as they transported in, by utilizing the codes Harget must have provided. The transport was detected immediately by the Enterprise and Security because all signals were being monitored. However the transporter signal was embedded within an encrypted code and impossible to interfere with other than to trace it." "Clearly the Araxsi are extremely well equipped." Worf added, his eyes darkening with frustration. "To be fair to Federation Security the Araxsi had state of the art technology at their disposal which produced a force field unpenetrable by federation standard sensor scans. The only sensor recordings are those initiated by the Araxsi." The klingon security chief shook his head with some envy. "What about the Araxsi's ship?" Riker asked. "A galactic cruiser, configuration unknown. However the sensor scans taken from the Enterprise clearly identifies several Romulan features which, with its cloaking ability, suggests Romulan origin. Our attempts to internally scan it were blocked. Checks with Earth show it to be logged as a trading vessel which arrived thirty minutes prior to the reception. The standard checks were routine and suggested nothing unusual. It identified itself as The Silken Thread, Captain Abe Wroster. Both identities have not, yet, been substantiated. Crosschecks with vessels in orbit over the last 3 months show The Silken Thread was in Earth's orbit four days ago, possibly to contact Eantor Harget and maybe our missing waiter." "This is one hell of an operation the Araxsi have going. It makes Starfleet look like child's play." Riker commented, his voice edged with frustration. "The timing of the operation was critical." Commander Uroyas observed. "From the arrival of the Araxsi vessel through to the escape and subsequent illusion of destruction. All required precise timing to be certain Security did not uncover the Araxsi's ability to control Earth's shields before the operation was completed. It may explain their use of Captain Picard to force the federation to meet their demands promptly." "But why take him with them?" Riker persisted. Complete silence met his question. Riker signed leaning back in his chair thinking carefully. In his mind's eye he listed all the unknowns still left. One of them had to contain a clue. "Commander Uroyas. Do you have any information on the purpose behind the Araxsi's demands to release these political prisoners?" he tried first. "Yes, Captain. Pakrak Sish was arrested as a Romulan spy working undercover in a federation facility three months ago. His father is a member of the T'Shay Council. We suspect his release was the primary demand as the others are professional criminals, possibly useful to the Araxsi for future operations, but otherwise uninteresting. Their releases were irreversible once the governors of their respective penal institutions signed their full pardons. All four were placed under surveillance, but Sish made straight for the Neutral Zone and presumably from there into Romulan territory." "It does keep coming back to the Romulans doesn't it?" observed La Forge. "That is correct, Geordi." Data picked up, cocking his head slightly to one side as he tended to do when processing a theory. "In fact, our current heading if continued would eventually take us to a sector of space close to the opposite end of Romulan territory, approximately fifteen days travel at warp speed nine." "Which sector, Data?" Crusher asked suddenly, frowning deeply. "The Tagor system, Doctor. The system is right at the edge of chartered space and is in fact well past the Neutral Zone." the android replied. Crusher turned to Riker excitedly. "Calgos is an M class planet in that area. It was the last reported location of Tal Caoussin two months ago." she explained. "Data, The Silken Thread, as we know it, was traveling at warp six before it decloaked. How long do you estimate it would take for the Enterprise to reach Calgos at Warp six." Riker asked thoughtfully. "Four weeks, Captain". "I want to be there in three. Geordi, your prime responsibility is to ensure we can maintain high warp speed over that duration. I'm assuming that The Silken Thread will be traveling fast and I want to be there before them if at all possible." La Forge nodded. "Yes, sir." "Lieutenant Worf, I want you to monitor all subspace communications, federation reports, anything that might give us a clue as to The Silken Thread's location, terrorist activity in the area. Commander Uroyas. I would like you to assist in that." Both Worf and Uroyas nodded their understanding. "Commander Uroyas, do you have any further information." "Not at present, Captain. In fact, right now I believe the people in this room have the most knowledge on this whole investigation. I will be keeping close contact with Intelligence using secure channels and will commence inquiries into advances in Romulan technology and recent activity in the Tagor system." "Fine. Any other comments or suggestions?" Riker regarded each of his officers in turn, keen to ensure all had the opportunity to speak but he quickly realized that they were keen to get back to their jobs. He relaxed his stern expression, allowing a smile to play on his lips. They were the best crew he could hope for he thought thankfully. "Good. Data, set our heading for Calgos, Warp seven. Dismissed and thank you everyone." Riker was the first to stride out of the conference lounge, closing his ears to the buzz of conversation that immediately sprang up behind him before filtering out as the doors closed behind him. Back behind his desk Riker leaned back closing his eyes. He pictured Talinka Caoussin as she had appeared as a young eager Starfleet cadet and attempted to equate her with the masked Araxsi leader who for a long hour had controlled his every action. In a way she continued to do so he thought, as the abduction of Picard ensured the Araxsi would be the primary focus for the Enterprise and its crew for the foreseeable future. Tapping his comms badge he requested Dr. Crusher to send him all the files she had on Talinka Caoussin. His jaw set and his eyes glittered with determination. If Caoussin was as involved as he believed she was then he was going to make damn sure he knew all there was to know about her. Chapter 6 On board the Cruiser Olanter, Dentor studied a stream of data that crossed his console. To the others on the bridge he appeared calm, a little bored maybe by the now normal routine of moving through space at warp six. In fact Dentor felt considerable disquiet. He ran the data stream again. He felt sure of his conclusions. They had decloaked for a split second, a split nano second even, as they had flown out of the explosions fury. Had it been picked up he wondered. He cleared his screen, watching it go blank. He did not understand the cause of the error, only that it had happened. Maintaining his casual demeanor he cast his eyes around the room, studying the occupants of the various stations that scattered his bridge, rerunning in his mind the events of the moment they had escaped Earth's orbit. There had been significant activity. Stations collapsing, the crew shouting, all working hurriedly to sort out the huge number of problems created by flying through the explosion's shock waves. He sighed. Maybe he was worrying unnecessarily. However... He turned to Marta at communications. "I want regular reports of all federation communications we can pick up regarding our escape from Earth and our subsequent destruction." he ordered. Marta nodded, not questioning his reasons. Dentor relaxed a little but as Kalesh entered the bridge he immediately tensed up again. He did not like this cardassian he told himself for the umpteenth time. Forcing a mild and polite tone he greeted the alien. "How are your interrogations going?" he inquired. "The human is stubborn, but giving way. He will be ready by the time we reach our destination." Only Kalesh and Dentor aboard the Olanter actually knew their final destination. "This female, Caoussin." Kalesh started. Dentor sensed the real reason for Kalesh's unusual visit to the bridge was a complaint.. Caoussin had stabilized the cloaking station, Dentor remembered, but she had only been seconds rescuing it. He dismissed the thought. "Tal is a highly efficient and competent assassin." Dentor began hoping to head the cardassian off, unsuccessfully as the burly cardassian took a deep breath to continue. "She is arrogant and interfering." Kalesh countered. "Is there no one else who could replace her?" Dentor considered this request seriously. He wanted a smooth running team, and the addition of Caoussin was always going to be wrought with difficulties. But it was Caoussin's highly individual style and her reputation that had been his main reasons for recruiting her. "Tal is essential to us." He coldly informed Kalesh. "You must put up with her. Once we reach our final destination she will be heading off in a different direction. Until then, remember that her character is one of the reasons she is so successful and therefore so important to our mission." Kalesh made a disgruntled sound to indicate his displeasure. "I will talk with her though." Dentor promised him placatingly. "That will have to be enough." "It will be something." Kalesh nodded and turned to leave. "Picard." Dentor stated. Kalesh turned back, his eyebrows raised. Dentor had heard Caoussin's opinion that Kalesh was moving too fast and that there would be too little of the Starfleet captain to work with later. "I feel it is time Picard joined us for a while. Give him a little taste of freedom again. It will have the benefit of unnerving him as little and give you a chance to review your progress." Dentor had phrased this carefully, hoping to appeal to the cardassian's own instincts. Kalesh frowned, mulling this suggestion over. Fortunately he respected Dentor and seemed to decide the idea had merit. "Very well." He agreed. "Expect a guest for dinner." Dentor smiled, keeping his expression fixed until Kalesh had left the bridge. Then he released his pent up breath. He heard Marta swear she could smell the cardassian from several meters. Unable to disagree he decided to ignore her comment. Picard groaned as someone shook his arm continually to force him awake. "Leave me alone." he mumbled into his shoulder, keeping his eyes tightly shut to block out the light. He kept his body curled up on the hard mattress that masqueraded as his bed, trying to retain some warmth. "Get up, swine." Kalesh whispered, bending close to the captain's ear. He prodded Picard's side with a sharp rod, sending a jolt of electric charge through his half asleep victim. Picard let out a low moan but he was so tired, his mind would not function sufficiently to make his body move. Since his arrival on board he had barely slept. Every time he fell into a troubled sleep, Kalesh or his sidekick, Wroxter, would force him awake, forcing him to pace his small cell, or dragging him to another room, where they would question him for hour after hour. If he got the answers wrong he was beaten or prodded with the electric stick. He felt himself being dragged by the arm, off the bed and across the room. There his tormentor let him drop to the floor. A second later, Picard gasped as ice cold water hit him, soaking his thin clothing to the skin. The unexpected shock woke him up, and raising his head to let the water trickle into his mouth, he gulped down as much water as he could catch. Kalesh immediately grabbed him, pulling him up to slap Picard's face gently until Picard was alert enough to focus his eyes on his captor. "That's better." Kalesh grunted. "What now?" Picard asked sullenly. "More torture to amuse your twisted mind, I suppose." Picard barely noticed the backhander Kalesh threw him for his insubordination, he was so used to it. "Get changed." The cardassian ordered, throwing some clothes at him. "You are joining the crew for dinner." Picard paused in the act of picking up the fallen clothes from the floor. "Dinner?" He asked suspiciously. His eyes narrowed, sure this was another of Kalesh's tricks. "A little reward for good behavior." Kalesh added, watching Picard as he removed his wet clothes and dressed. Picard had been granted no privacy since his arrival onboard the Olanter and did not expect any now. His elbow gripped tightly by Kalesh with his arm twisted cruelly Picard was forced to walk slightly sideways as Kalesh led him through the ship. Beyond resistance, Picard offered no struggle, sinking with relief into an empty chair at the well attended table when they reached what was clearly the ship's mess. Kalesh released his arm and left him to speak to Wroxter who eyed Picard with unfriendly eyes from the far side of the room. Rubbing his elbow Picard looked around at the others already seated. Most stared back at him, their faces cold and wary. The woman he recognized as Caoussin was there, two places to his right. She did not look at him, deep in conversation with a man he recognized as their leader, Dentor, from the bridge. Dentor turned to look at him, followed a second later by Caoussin's own stern gaze. An awkward silence fell. No one knew the courage it took Picard to face those stares from his captors. Nor his relief when they just as suddenly lost interest in him, returning to their previous conversations. Food began to arrive on the table, the smells quickly setting Picard's saliva glands going. He felt a huge gaping hole in this stomach, but steeled himself not to be allowed anything. He was very surprised when a bowl of steaming soup was placed in front of him. It smelt delicious. Picard looked at the plates of those next to him. They contained some sort of stew and he realized that the chunks of meat and vegetables had been removed from his bowl. Probably wisely he guessed, as his stomach would not be able to handle anything more substantial. He picked up the spoon beside his plate, noting his hand shook slightly. Fighting to control the tremors he carefully filled the spoon with soup before gingerly touching it to his lips. It tasted good and as quickly as he could he drank the soup down, before anyone decided to take it away. A glass of water was set in front of him and glancing up he saw the `Araxi' woman had poured it for him. Quickly he sipped it, before taking a longer drink. Feeling a little stronger, Picard listened in to the conversation around him as he continued to eat and drink more slowly. A woman called Marta, was explaining to Dentor the gist of the communications she had been analyzing. Trying not to let his interest show, he listened carefully, shifting his glance around the table. He caught Caoussin's eye, making her start a little. She held his gaze for a second. Suddenly a hand fell on his shoulder, pressing him firmly to keep him in his place. Kalesh, Picard realized, recognizing the cardassian's characteristic odor. Instinctively he stiffened, attempting to retreat from Kalesh's firm grasp. "Time to introduce yourself." Kalesh boomed, gaining the attention of everyone present. Kalesh began to pound Picard with the same probing questions he had been interrogating Picard with for days, easily dragging well rehearsed answers from him. Days of Kalesh's intense programming techniques ensured Picard provided an increasingly uncomfortable Olanter crew with memories and details from his life. As he described his assimilation by the Borg Picard felt a deep humiliation creep through him, a self loathing that he could allow Kalesh to impose his will on him so easily. Dentor saw Caoussin wince as they all watched this once proud, strong Starfleet officer surrender to the inexorable demands Kalesh made of him. Dentor, himself could almost feel the pain Picard must have felt and was certain that none of those listening would have survived as well, if at all. `God.' thought Dentor, `the man looks completely done in.' He noted the dark rims under Picard's eyes, the waxen pallor of his skin, the lost weight. He had not missed the careful way Picard held himself, clearly to avoid aggravating some injuries. Kalesh certainly knew his job Dentor had to acknowledge, his insightful questioning was masterful, knowing how to draw from Picard the most intimate memories that would normally remain hidden in the deepest recesses of a man's being. Dentor sensed even his mercenary crew grow restless with shame that they were participants in a cruel form of voyeurism. Next to him Marta shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "That will be all, Kalesh." Dentor interrupted, stopping the public interrogation dead. He held up a hand to still Kalesh's protest. Surprising them all their stricken victim stood up, his chair toppling behind him. Before Kalesh could react Picard had blindly pushed past his inquisitor, stumbling through the mess door which barely parted in time to allow his escape. "Stop him." Kalesh roared, furious at his subject's unexpected display of defiance. He raced after Picard down the ship's main corridor. Dentor and Caoussin leapt up and gave chase. Caoussin closest to the door began to gain on Kalesh who had cornered Picard in a storage compartment. Dentor stopped behind Caoussin as Picard sank before them all to the floor, his legs unable to support him after his sudden burst of activity. Kalesh's face was grotesquely contorted with rage and he pulled out a vicious looking and familiar instrument he had strapped to his thigh. In one fluid movement Kalesh had thumbed the neuronic whip and brought it down fleetingly, but hard across Picard's right shoulder. Dentor shuddered at Picard's agonized scream, the captain's body writhing on the floor. As Kalesh raised his arm to strike another blow Caoussin leapt forward. Dentor was too late to stop her interfering and was relieved to see her escape a blow from the whip herself as by some amazing feat of dexterity she inserted herself between Kalesh and his victim, catching Kalesh's descending fist in an iron tight grip. With her free hand Caoussin had pulled out her own weapon and at point blank range pressed it firmly into the cardassian's chest. Behind Dentor various members of an excited crew crowded behind him, some vocally encouraging Caoussin to finish the job. "I warned you, Kalesh." Caoussin spat at her adversary in a cold disgust. She took no notice of Picard who was taking the opportunity to scrabble back against the far wall, as far away from Kalesh as possible. "You go too far." "You can't kill me." Kalesh snarled at her, refusing to lower his arm. Caoussin smiled viciously. "No." She agreed unhappily. "But I can and will do this." Before anyone could react she pointed her phaser up and blasted the whip clear our of the cardassian's hand. Kalesh leapt back, his hand burning from the effect of the whip disintegrating into thin air from within his grasp. "You can't... no," Caoussin corrected. "daren't kill me. But go too far again and I will swear I will kill you, mission or no mission." Glancing at Dentor to remind Kalesh that their leader was there, she stepped back, calmly reholstering her weapon. Not even glancing at Picard, she turned her back on Kalesh and pushed past Dentor and the now silent crew. Dentor let her past. His lack of challenge to Caoussin's actions spoke volumes to the crew and Dentor knew it would not have gone unnoticed by Kalesh either. Dentor felt sure that the general consensus was that Kalesh had gone too far. There were no innocents in Dentor's collection of misfits and mercenaries, but there was only one Kalesh. The cardassian was holding his injured hand, his eyes mean and angry. Dentor waved Wroxter in to take Picard out of harm's way. Kalesh maintained a simmering silence as the rest of the crew sensibly melted away. Later, following a long and heated argument, Kalesh retreated to the sick bay for treatment and Dentor turned his attention to Caoussin. He tapped on her door. It opened to let him in. Dentor marveled at his long time friend and colleague's poise. Caoussin sat at her desk, studying data on her console, comparing information with an ancient paper map she had laid out beside her on the floor. She was engrossed in plans for the next stage of their mission he realized, noticing a loose lock of hair that fell between her eyes. She brushed it aside as she looked up, an apologetic smile creasing her lips. "Come in." "You really know how to live dangerously." He remarked as he dropped onto her bed. "He asked for it." Caoussin retorted, putting her data pad down and giving him her full undivided attention. "Okay." Dentor conceded that point. "But Kalesh has his job to do as well, you know." "Kalesh gets a kick out of his job. He does it for his personal pleasure and that makes him unprofessional. If this operation is to have any chance of success we must stay cool." Dentor did not feel strongly enough to argue the point, both of them had been appalled at the vicious treatment Kalesh was prepared to mete out to a defenseless man. He swiftly changed the subject. "Talking about jobs how are your plans going." His gaze swept the plans arrayed around them. "Getting through the defenses on Tagor will not be easy. We must get the relic." Caoussin accepted the change in direction and showing him her datapad, deftly scoped out the concept behind her idea. Dentor was both impressed and horrified. "You know the loophole here exists only because the native life forms are so savage it is unheard of for anyone to escape alive from that forest." "I have some ideas on that." Caoussin informed him. I'll need some equipment though." Dentor stood up, pausing in the door as he left the room. "Take whatever you need." He offered before leaving. Caoussin nodded absently, her brain already working on the details. Tal Caoussin stood on the bridge of the Olanter, her eyes feasting on the jewel that hung before them. Tagor was the typical M4 class planet, rich, lush continents broken up by a myriad of blue emerald seas. "It's beautiful." she whispered. "You would never believe that the most vicious creatures you would hate to meet in your worst nightmare thrive down there". Marta commented dramatically. "Have you read the data on them?" she continued looking around the rest of the crew currently on duty. "Ugh." To emphasize her point she shivered involuntarily. Caoussin smiled at her. "You'll like the surprise I have planned for them then!" Reaching down, she plucked up a small compact unit that she had earlier placed on the desk beside her. This little contraption, strapped to your body armor, throws out an invisible force field. It sends out the same vibrations that the Milki, to give them their proper name, would pick up from subterraneous disturbances. All the data suggests that the Milki sense earthquakes and vacate the affected area rapidly." "All theory." Kalesh dismissed. He had just joined them. From his command console Dentor turned to Caoussin. "I agree. You are going to test this before we offer ourselves up for dinner, I hope?" "Of course, I propose to land a probe containing one of these devices from my ship, The Scriptor, while you monitor what happens from the safety of the Olanter. We will have to move around to the dark side, as my own vessel is not cloaked." "Won't the sensors pick you up?" Marta queried. "No. I have a system aboard The Scriptor to fix that," Caoussin answered. "What system?" demanded Kalesh disbelieving. Dentor raised an eyebrow to indicate he wanted to know that too. "I'm paid for my skills." Caoussin countered. "Not to give away my secret tools of the trade. Do you want me to test this or not?" She tossed the device in the air, catching it deftly on its way down. Dentor shrugged. Kalesh snorted and took a seat, folding his arms in front of him, making clear his suspicions. Making a decision Dentor suddenly came to life. "Right. Let's get this show on the road. Trouder, half speed around to the dark side, please." Trouder a hard faced professional thief, famed for his reputation of piloting spaceships through the most daunting of space raids, barely touched the controls to fulfil the order. The Olanter on course, Trouder turned to Caoussin. "Where did you get The Scriptor, Caoussin?" "I stole her, obviously. Right out from under the Federation's turned up nose. Then I rigged her so she would answer only to me. One false finger on the controls, one false word, or missed password. Boom! So be warned ladies and gentlemen. No one touches The Scriptor except yours truly." Trouder laughed sourly. Caoussin hadn't got this far without taking a few precautions. Trouder turned back to his console, shaking his head. "Don't look at me, Caoussin." Caoussin didn't. Instead she looked at Kalesh who sat brooding. "In position now." Trouder announced shortly afterwards. "Tal." Dentor nodded to Caoussin. "On my way." Caoussin replied, striding from the bridge. She made her way rapidly to a large hold, crammed full of tiny space ships, mostly one man vessels belonging to various members of the Olanter crew. The Scriptor sat proudly in the center, gleaming black curves. She outclassed the rest easily. As Caoussin approached her ship she knew The Scriptor was silently scanning her. When she reached the door she placed her hand on the panel, a green light whisked down it. Mentally checking the date, she worked out her password. "Two dogs fighting." The door silently opened. Satisfied the person entering was indeed Tal Caoussin, the controls were up and running, ready for her to just sit down and start her moving. The engines purred to life. Caoussin sometimes thought she would never retire from her mercenary career, simply because she loved her ship so much. She opened communications, hailing Dentor on the Olanter's bridge. "I'm ready to go." she announced. Dentor turned to Kalesh. "Open bulkhead door." Kalesh nodded, entering the required commands to his station. "She's out." he reported. "Marta, hail her. Use the coded frequency." Dentor ordered. The Scriptor responded straight away. Happy she was in contact, Dentor sat back and relaxed. Kalesh began stabbing at his controls, then turned speaking urgently. "I can't find her. She's disappeared. I don't trust her. She could be up to anything." "For pities sake, Kalesh." Dentor turned on him exasperated. "She's not supposed to be seen." He understood what Kalesh meant though. The Scriptor was a fine ship. So if she can't be seen, why did we have to move to the dark side?" persisted Kalesh. "Because." Trouder answered slowly as if to a child. "Someone might be walking their pet armoudu and spot a great black shape flying overhead." Kalesh fell silent, sulkily hovering over his controls, trying to find some trace of The Scriptor. Dentor sighed. This was some trip, he thought. Fifteen minutes later Kalesh spoke up again. "I'm picking up some seismic disturbance on the surface." "Where?" Dentor asked leaping up and coming round to Kalesh's station. He followed Kalesh's pointing finger, checking the coordinates. "Right where the probe was suppose to land." Kalesh confirmed. "What's the livestock doing?" Marta asked. Kalesh checked the readouts before looking up. "Everything is moving to the East, away from the probe's position, including the Milki." They all smiled. Even Kalesh looked pleasantly surprised Dentor noted. The cardassian did respect success after all. A little more enthusiastic now he had evidence that Caoussin's device actually worked, Kalesh checked the controls again. "Interesting." He commented. The intensity of the vibrations is increasing." Suddenly he swore. "That was real, an earthquake, 5 on the Richter scale. The animals down there are really moving now." "What went wrong?" Dentor asked annoyed. "Marta, hail Caoussin. Find out what's happened." Marta had a short conversation with The Scriptor. "Not a problem according to Tal. Says she'll explain when she gets back which will be in about ten minutes." Indeed, ten minutes later, Caoussin entered the bridge, moving straight to the computer, where she reanalyzed the readings, checking them back against what she had taken from The Scriptor. Finally she straightened, slightly flushed from her exertions, to face them. "That," she announced grandly, "is how we break into the compound tomorrow night." When she had finished explaining Dentor whistled in admiration. "Not bad." Trouder commented, nodding his head, visualizing the sequence of planned events. Dentor stood up. "Right, we'll have a proper briefing this evening. Then we can get in training ready for the operation. Kalesh, will Picard be ready. I want him with us all the way, get him used to working with us." "Picard's coming? What on earth for?" demanded Caoussin angrily. "I haven't planned for him. He will get in the way. No." She continued, shaking her head. "It's too big a risk." Dentor turned on her, his tone crisp and firm, showing the side of him that made him their leader. "It's not up for debate, Tal. Picard is coming. Think of it as a dress rehearsal." Recognizing she was not going to win this argument, Caoussin gave way gracefully, ignoring the vindictive look Kalesh threw her. "Well, I'd better make up another Milki then." She said leaving for her room. Marta looked puzzled. Trouder supplied her with the answer. "At a guess I'd say that is what she's named her little seismic disturbers." Kalesh stopped outside the door to Picard's interrogation room. He entered a code on the panel beside the door and went in. Since the night Picard had joined them for dinner and Caoussin had stepped in, Kalesh had kept the captain well hidden from the rest of the crew. He had vented his anger on the human only briefly, before deciding to bring forward his schedule. Picard sat on a hardback chair, his wrists in restraints. His eyes were fixed on a series of images that flickered on and off a screen before him, too quickly to take in their meaning. Kalesh circled him, careful not to get between Picard and the images. "Where were you on Stardate 41095?" He asked the captain pleasantly, taking a seat in the corner. "I've told you." Picard answered slowly, his words slurred and dull. "Tell me again." The cardassian encouraged him. "I'm interested." "I was on..on." Picard paused. He shook his head slightly, his memory seemed faulty. A vivid picture of a desert plain, crammed full of dead bodies, rose up in his mind's eye. He thought he could smell the rotten stench. It overpowered him. Pressing forward against his restraints Picard retched violently, his horror plain to this watcher. "What are you doing to me?" He demanded when he could speak again. He resisted the urge to ask for water to wash away the taste of bile in his mouth, knowing Kalesh would simply take great pleasure in refusing it to him. Kalesh ignored the question. "Tonight you rest." He told Picard. "Eat and sleep. That is all I ask of you." Standing before the rooms only other piece of equipment, a small console, he terminated the program. The room fell briefly into darkness before normal lighting resumed. Then stepping up to Picard, Kalesh slowly released his restraints. Free, Picard slowly stood up. Weakly he walked to the door, following the routine of the last few days. Kalesh followed, taking Picard's unresisting arm before opening the door. The corridor was empty, sometimes a passing crew member would eye Picard curiously, but little was ever said. No one on board really cared what happened to a Starfleet officer, except Caoussin, thought Kalesh savagely. He was certain Caoussin simply enjoyed needling him. Her hatred of the Federation was well known amongst the residents of the underworld. Now he took Picard to the galley. Dentor was there eating a solitary meal. He looked up as Picard and Kalesh entered. "Ready for tomorrow." He asked Picard, deliberately fishing. Kalesh knew that Dentor did not like not knowing what Kalesh's job was on board the Olanter. He had a broad idea but no details. "I have not told him yet." Kalesh informed Dentor, annoyed. "What about tomorrow?" Picard asked but with little interest. At that moment he was clearly more concerned with getting a drink of water. Kalesh watched him spy a dispenser, grab a paper cup and pour himself a drink. Kalesh was feeling generous and allowed Picard to have his drink. "Hey, that's enough." Dentor warned Picard in alarm. "Don't over do it too quickly." Kalesh looked at the food on offer that day. It was stew again, he was disappointed by the choice. Filling up two plates, he set one before Picard and sat down himself to eat. "What about tomorrow?" Picard repeated mumbling the words between mouthfuls. Kalesh answered as Dentor shrugged, plainly acknowledging that it was not his place to interfere. "We are going to the planet below, Tagor. We have a small mission to complete. We want you to join us," "Why?" Picard questioned frowning, looking directly at Kalesh. Normally such behavior would have earned him a punishment but Kalesh was in a conciliatory mood and let it pass. "Consider it a test. Behave well, and you will be rewarded. Behave badly ..." He let the threat hang in the air. "You torture me some more." Picard finished for him before turning to Dentor. "Why? Why am I here? The prisoners you asked to be released were, weren't they? You could let me go or kill me anytime. So what's stopping you." Amused Dentor replied he had no idea. "Ask Kalesh." He informed the disgusted Starfleet captain. Picard leaned back in his chair. He hated this feeling of being so out of control of his life, surrounded by people who resented him, feared what he represented. It was not the first time since the Araxi woman, called Caoussin, had shot him at the reception, that he felt really frightened. He had been scared before on many missions, for his crew and his ship. This time, like with the Borg and on Cardassia, he was frightened for himself. His inability to improve his situation worried him deeply. The longer it went on the harder he would find it to act when an opportunity did arise. This trip to Tagor could be an opportunity. All this and more went through his mind as he silently emptied his plate. Kalesh escorted him back to his cell, this time not bothering to hold Picard as they walked the short distance. As soon as the door closed behind him Picard turned and checked to make sure it was really locked. It was. He stretched as much as he dared, his wounds still bothered him. He still slept face down to avoid aggravating his back. Now sitting on his miserable excuse for a bed, he rested his head in his hands, rubbing tired eyes. Please, he thought, let me sleep tonight. His brain felt so woolly the last few weeks, he was no longer able even to think about an escape. Before he collapsed, he forced himself up to the sanitary cubicle. Finished he just made it back to the bed before unconsciousness claimed him. That night his prayer to sleep was answered. TBC [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] Yahoo! Groups Links <*> To visit your group on the web, go to: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEM-S/ <*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to: ASCEM-S-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com <*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to: http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ From ???@??? 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