Chapter 2
by Travis Anderson

The Enterprise-E glided gently through space. As always, the flagship of Starfleet had been busy. The ship and crew had just finished negotiations with the Zynz'ynerts. The species had proven almost as indecipherable as the name. The crew had come through, and negotiations towards greater co-operation would now begin.

Picard stepped out of the turbolift onto the bridge awash with a sense of approving satisfaction with his crew's efforts. The insectoid Zynz'ynerts language was the result of vibrations transmitted through their chitonous carapaces. It had taken quite a bit of ingenuity to produce a supplemental device to the universal translator in order for the two species to communicate. Picard had a long list of commendations that he was recommending for many of the Science specialists serving aboard the ship.

His eyes drifted across the bridge, savouring the sights he beheld there. His Executive Officer, Will Riker, was at his post alongside the captain's chair. Data was at Ops. Lieutenant J.G. Kell Perim manned Conn. Picard knew Beverly Crusher was down in Sickbay. Geordi LaForge was in Engineering. Deanna Troi was seeing crewmembers in her role as Ship's Counselor.

The only one was truly a stranger to Picard was his Chief Tactical Officer, Rab Daggit. Daggit had joined the crew at the closing of the Dominion War. The Angosian had served with an elite Tactical unit prior to his posting to the Enterprise. He had only been aboard a few weeks.

Picard had been curious to see what the former commando's reactions would be during their encounter with the Zynz'ynerts. He had not been disappointed. Contrary to Picard's last encounter with Angosian commandos, Daggit had been coolly collected even when tensions had escalated and violence appeared imminent.

Picard walked down to his seat and assumed it with a pleasant smile. "How goes it, Number One?"

Riker grinned at him. He'd decided to grow his beard back. His relationship with Counselor Troi seemed as vibrant as ever, despite her initial disgust regarding his decision towards the beard. Riker's enthusiasm was contagious and he often inspired the best from the crew.

"Everything is going smoothly, Captain," Riker answered with his characteristic ebullience. "We should complete our plasma displacement study on schedule, and be underway for our geological survey of Kruneb VI in eighteen hours."

Picard's smile of delight mirrored Riker's. "Excellent!"

Data turned at that moment. "Captain, you have an incoming transmission from Starfleet Command."

Picard was surprised by this news. He wasn't expecting any transmissions from Command. A hollow feeling filled his stomach. He feared that an another crisis was upon them. The Federation had had too many of them as of late. He was disturbed the after effects that the war had left upon many people.

"I'll take it in my Ready Room," Picard informed Data as he stood. He gave his uniform jacket a slight downward tug as he turned to Riker. "You have the bridge, Number One."

Picard proceeded straight for his desk upon entering his Ready Room. He sat down in his chair and activated the comm screen. Picard smiled amicably for the aide that originally appeared. His smile disappeared when Admiral Robert Jellico image replaced the aide.

"Greetings, Admiral," Picard said stiffly.

"Hello, Jean-Luc," Jellico replied with forced cheer.

There was little love lost between the two men. Jellico had assumed command of the Enterprise-D while Picard had been a prisoner of the Cardassians. The tales he had heard upon his return of Jellico browbeating his crew had infuriated him.

"How are you?" Jellico asked politely.

"Very well," Picard answered honestly. "Our last assignment proved more successful than we had anticipated."

"That's good to hear," Jellico replied flatly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" Picard asked, forcing himself to remain professional.

"I'll get right to the point," Jellico replied. Picard wished he'd done so at the onset. "We have a situation."

Picard groaned inwardly, but remained silent as Jellico continued.

"A starship, the U.S.S. Odyssey, just set out for the Beta Quadrant." Jellico paused dramatically, "There may be a problem with her crew."

"What kind of problem?" Picard asked, still trying to get Jellico to the point.

"Her captain is a former Maquis," Jellico dropped on him.

Picard's eyes widened. "I thought all the surviving Maquis were scattered across various penal colonies."

Jellico frowned. "It's more complicated than that." He shifted position, leaning forward. "He was working for Starfleet Intelligence. He was assigned to infiltrate the Maquis. He became sympathetic towards their cause and compromised his mission."

"How?" Picard inquired.

"The damned fool actually fell in for their noble, oppressed cause claptrap. He stopped sending reports and started fighting for them."

"How did he survive the Dominion sweep of the Maquis?"

"He turned tail and ran for Federation space," Jellico said derisively. "He also brought in as many ships as he could convince to follow him."

"You don't sound as though you approve," Picard commented dryly.

Jellico's eyes narrowed. "I never approve of traitors or terrorists."

"I'm certain they would never label themselves as such," Picard countered.

"Just as I'm sure a Jem'Hader would never label himself a butcher."

"How did the ship fall into Maquis hands?"

Jellico sighed. "The man in question, Brin Macen, was recruited to conduct intelligence missions in Dominion space during the war. Upon returning to Earth, he managed to finagle command of a ship and take of for the Beta Quadrant."

"I would have thought that Macen's earlier defection to the Maquis would have prevented his acquiring a command assignment."

"It should have." Jellico nearly spat the words. He brushed the discussion aside with a wave of his hand, "The heart of the matter is that the vessel has departed Sector One in the wake of a series of unexplained mishaps."

Picard's curiosity rose. "Such as?"

"You name it. The ship's commanding officer is a former terrorist and rogue. The slated Executive and Chief Operations officers both die of 'mysterious' accidents mere hours before she departs. The 'replacement' for the Exec is the Science Officer, which happens to be the captain's former partner when he infiltrated the Maquis. Added to all of this, a penal mental was penetrated and one prisoner was freed. That prisoner was a former Maquis of the captain's acquaintance. Does any of this strike you as odd?"

Picard nodded, "I can see cause for much of your alarm, but why contact me?"

Jellico began to exhibit impatience. "Captain, en route to assuming command, there was a report of this officer rendezvousing with a Romulan Warbird. Now, he is taking one of the most advanced ships in the fleet near the Romulan border. That seems suspicious to me."

"I see," Picard replied, growing more concerned. "What is our assignment?"

"I want you to discreetly monitor the Odyssey's activities. If she makes contact with the Romulans, then you intercept her and arrest the commander."

"Isn't that presumptuous?" Picard asked. "We would have to investigate the situation before making any..."

"Just follow orders, Captain," Jellico snapped. "Despite your recent actions surrounding the Baku, you do remember how to follow orders?"

Picard nodded, suppressing the outrage he felt. "Yes, sir."

"Then find them," Jellico ordered. "Find them, arrest whomever you have to, and bring them to me." The screen winked out.

Picard sat back in his chair. What the hell is going on? Ignorance was far more lethal than inaction. Picard decided that it was time to acquire some more perspective on the entire situation.

Picard returned to the bridge. "Lieutenant Perim, please set a course for the Ktarrian border with the Federation."

"New orders, sir?" Riker asked the question on everyone's mind.

"I'm afraid so," Picard answered glumly. "We're looking for another Starfleet vessel that has gotten itself into a curious situation." He turned to Data. "Mr. Data, I need all the information of the U.S.S. Odyssey, her captain, and her crew that you can find."

"Certainly, sir." The android paused. "I believe I can be ready in two hours. Is that acceptable?"

Picard smiled, "Certainly, Data. When you're prepared, we'll convene in the briefing room."

"Yes, sir."

The turbolift doors opened, depositing Macen on Deck Four. The ship had been underway for a day now. There had been no problems with the ship whatsoever. He was uneasy though, wondering when the known and unknown agents planted on his ship would strike.

Sounding alarms informed Macen that his wait was over. His hand instinctively flew to his comm badge. "Macen here. Report."

Derrico's bass rumbled the reply. "Security alert, sir. Dr. Kort reports that Dr. Viddan has gone mad."

"What happened?" Macen sighed. He'd been hoping the Klingon wouldn't provoke Viddan.

"A crewman went to Sickbay after a minor accident in Engineering. Kort insisted that Viddan treat the wound."

"And Viddan went berserk, took the patient hostage, and fled from Sickbay," Macen finished sourly.

There was a pause, "Yes, sir. How'd you know?"

"It's cliché." Macen sighed. "Full security alert, all decks."

This time the turbolift doors opened to reveal the bridge. Macen stepped out to find the bridge in chaos. Derrico was shouting orders into his comm. Several crewmen were shouting at each other. D'art kept frantically looking back at the commotion. Only Lisea and T'Kir seemed unaffected, although he seriously doubted the ship exploding would affect T'Kir.

"What the hell is going on here?" he shouted.

Everyone stopped. T'Kir sniggered. Danan met his eyes with an "I told you" look. Macen looked around at all the extra crewmen on the bridge.

"Clear the bridge," he ordered calmly. He turned towards Derrico. "Seal the shuttle bay.

"Yes, sir," Derrico replied smartly.

Macen leaned over the rail and whispered to Danan, "And how much longer were you going to let this continue?"

"As long as it took you to get here," she answered. "I wouldn't want to hog all the fun."

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Sir," Derrico rumbled, "the computer lists Dr. Viddan as being on Deck Seven, section nine. He's in Astrometrics."

"His comm badge is in Astrometrics," Macen replied. "He's in the shuttle bay."

An alarm sounded on Derrico's board. He swivelled to face Macen. "Someone has activated a shuttle. They are firing phasers to try and penetrate the force field."

"Are the shuttle's shields activated?" Macen asked. "Or the engines?"

"No, sir," Derrico replied happily. "Neither are activated."

"T'Kir, access the shuttle's computers and deactivate the shuttle," Macen ordered.

She went to work as Derrico protested, "You said he'd be aboard. Won't he just reactivate the shuttle?"

Macen shrugged. "I was wrong. The engines weren't on-line, which means he didn't intend to use the shuttle to escape. Danan, run a sensor sweep in Engineering. Are there any non-designated Vulcanoid life signs?"

Danan studied her instruments, then smiled grimly. "There is one Vulcanoid without a comm badge moving towards Engineering."

"Sir!" Derrico said. "Security has found Chief Yates. She is unharmed."

"Good," Macen replied, then motioned for Derrico. "Come with me, Lieutenant. Commander Danan, inform Tarrik he has company coming."

"You've got it," Danan called out as Derrico joined Macen in the turbolift.

When Macen and Derrico reached Engineering, several unconscious engineers and Security personnel littered the deck. Before entering, Derrico double-checked the setting of his phaser. When he was satisfied, he grunted approvingly.

He glanced over towards Macen in time to see the Captain withdraw a weapon from his waistband. Macen reached around his waist and pulled out a pistol. Derrico stared at it in confusion. At the Academy, he had studied ancient and modern weapons form across known space. It resembled a projectile weapon from early Twenty-first century Earth.

"What is that?" Derrico asked disdainfully.

"It's a pulsar pistol," Macen answered, amused by Derrico's attitude.

Derrico sniffed. "I could have issued you a phaser."

Macen shook his head. "Can't stand the things. Their design makes me think they're made to vacuum up lint."

Derrico's jaw hung slack for a moment before snapping shut. He entered Engineering first, weapon upright. Macen followed in similar fashion. Both searched the cavernous space high and low. Unconscious crewmen were also sprawled across the deck here. Macen had to give the Romulans credit. They'd developed a powerful, concealed weapon. Its discharges had not alerted Security as to its existence.

The sound of a spanner hitting the deck alerted them to another presence in the room. Derrico went around one side of the throbbing warp core. Macen skirted around the other side. Macen happened upon Viddan first. He was using a small device to create microfractures in the plasma coolant lines. Some time later, the lines would break. Every engineer in the room would be killed by the plasma discharge. They would either have to eject the warp core, or let it destroy the ship. Either way, the Romulan spy's interests were served.

"Freeze!" Macen shouted, aiming his pistol at Viddan.

Viddan gave him a smug smile. "If you do not put your weapon down, I will rupture the hose now."

"You'll die," Macen reminded him.

Viddan shrugged. "Better that then surrender and dishonour."

"I feel the same way," Macen informed him.

"Then it appears we are at an unfortunate impasse, Captain. A pity your crew has to die to satisfy your vanity."

"Oh, well."

Viddan's eyebrows rose. "I truly believe you would do it." He chuckled. "I have always wanted to meet a human that thought like a Romulan, and I finally have. I can die peacefully."

He turned his head back towards the coolant line. His thumb moved towards the activation switch on the small device. A strange expression crossed his face and then he slumped over.

Derrico moved closer from his position behind Viddan. He knelt down and checked Viddan's pulse. Macen kept his weapon trained on the Romulan, just in case he was feigning. Derrico stood and holstered his phaser. Macen tucked his back into the rear of his waistband.

Derrico hit his comm badge. "I need a Security team in Engineering. I also require a Medical team. There are wounded." He glanced over to Macen. "I thought you were going to let him do it."

Macen grinned. "That's what I wanted him to think. You shot him a moment before I squeezed the trigger."

"You could have distracted him just as greatly by placing your weapon on the deck."

Macen gave him a quizzical glance. "I meant what I said about surrendering, Lieutenant." With that Macen walked away.

Viddan awoke in the brig. He heard the last rush of air from a hypospray as it emptied its contents into his body. He jerked his head towards the sound. He found Kort's face looming over him smiling. He looked around the room. Derrico, T'Kir and Macen were also present. T'Kir was giving him a malignant smile that he found disturbing. That one was crazy. Derrico was staring sternly at him, trying to give his best "bad cop" impression. Viddan had always been amused by that particular human tactic. On Romulus, all cops were bad cops.

He met the captain's eyes. Where T'Kir's eyes disturbed him, Macen's eyes terrified him. There was no emotion in those eyes. No mercy, no understanding, his eyes were utterly devoid of any human feelings at all.

"I must say, I expected to be treated better than this. To be awakened by a Klingon, really?" he said with haughty bravado.

Macen's eyes never flickered, never wavered. "Tell me what I need to know, and no harm will come to you."

"Or what?" Viddan replied scornfully. "You Federation types are all talk. You can't do anything to me. Your precious regulations prohibit it."

"Lt. Derrico," Macen announced coldly, "you are dismissed."

"Sir?" Derrico asked in bafflement.

"I'm taking charge of the prisoner," Macen informed him. "You and the other officers standing watch in the brig are dismissed."

"That may be unsafe," Derrico protested.

"You are dismissed," Macen repeated. His tone was machine-like. His eyes were merciless. His voice promised death.

Derrico glared at him, then broke. He left without a word. The two officers stationed at the brig left as well. Macen returned his attention to Viddan.

"One last chance," he said. "Tell me."

Viddan assumed an imperious air. Macen nodded towards Kort. The Klingon released the Romulans bonds. Viddan stood. He faced Kort for a moment before the Klingon struck him. Kort struck again, and again, and again...and he kept on striking.

Fifteen minutes later, Viddan sat bleeding in the chair he had started in. Kort was panting in a corner. Macen and T'Kir now stood before him. T'Kir was swaying side to side, eagerly anticipating what was coming next. Macen remained as inscrutable as ever.

Macen knelt, sitting on one knee. "Ready now?"

"Never," Viddan replied hoarsely through swollen lips.

Macen jerked his thumb towards T'Kir. Viddan's eyes followed the motion. She giggled and waved at him.

Viddan shook his head wearily. "You think that having some Rigellian trollop throw herself at me will loosen my tongue?"

Macen smiled. Viddan's blood froze. It was a predator's smile. It was a smile of victory.

"She's not Rigellian," Macen explained slowly. "She's Vulcan. She's going to rip the information from your mind."

Viddan's heart skipped a beat. "She can't. There are rules. Vulcans don't take information."

"Take a look at her my friend," Macen advised. "She's not stable. I really don't think she gives a damn about Vulcan etiquette."

Viddan shook his head, "No," he pleaded.

"The information," Macen replied. "Who sent you?"

"I can't," Viddan hissed.

"You will," Macen promised. "One way or another."

"You should understand!" Viddan whispered. "You said you would choose death over surrender."

Macen's expression hardened. "So you've made your choice then?"

Viddan's head gave a weak nod. Macen shook his head in disappointment. He stood and stepped aside. He motioned for T'Kir to take over.

She knelt before Viddan. She ran her tongue over her smiling lips. She put her hands on either side of his head. Viddan began to scream.

"This isn't right!" Derrico shouted. His voice echoed across the briefing room.

Danan stood impassively before him, hands on her hips. "Then you file a report, Lieutenant."

"That's what I'm doing," he explained.

"I don't think you have a full appreciation of the situation, Lieutenant," Danan explained in a voice that was too patient. "We have a saboteur in our custody that was able to penetrate the best security Starfleet Intelligence could devise. We had two dead crewmen before we launched. We may have more now. He was stopped trying to arrange the destruction or capture of this vessel by the Romulan Star Empire." Her voice grew hard. "We have a prisoner that may provide us with valuable information regarding these events. Both our lives and our mission may depend on obtaining that information. I will support any and all efforts the Captain authorises to gain it."

Derrico gazed at Danan as though seeing her for the first time. There was an underlying fierce determination emanating from her that Derrico had not recognised before. He was suddenly relieved she was an ally. She would be an implacable foe.

"There are regulations," he protested weakly.

"That do or do not apply here!" Danan snapped. "The Captain will brief you more on the nature of our mission. All I can ask of you is that you at least try and trust him until then." Her eyes narrowed. "If you cannot, then may I remind you that you are compelled to follow legal orders. Any actions that you perceive as illegal, you may report in your log and file with the appropriate authorities."

Derrico decided not to argue with the steel in her voice. She had correctly read the regulations to him. He could not accuse his superior of failing to abide by regulations if he was not willing to do so himself. He nodded assent.

Macen led Kort and T'Kir into the briefing room. Danan, Derrico, Tarrik, and D'art were already present. Brin was relieved to see the Chief Engineer had recovered quickly from the Romulan weapon. He also noted the way Derrico glowered at him.

"What's the status of the warp core?" Macen asked.

Tarrik shrugged. "The damage is repairable. Another few seconds and things would be bad. As it is, we'll have everything repaired in four hours."

"Glad to hear it," Macen replied. His face was set in stone. "It's time we all realised what's going in here."

"Excuse me, sir, what happened to Viddan?" Derrico answered.

"Mind-lock," T'Kir answered with her annoying habit of overemphasising sections of a word.

"What's that mean?" D'art asked.

T'Kir snickered. "It means that he was trained to resist a mind-meld. It burned him out."

"Will he recover?" Derrico asked in alarm.

"Kort is looking after him," Macen answered. "We'll do whatever we can for him."

"It's our fault he's like this," Derrico growled. "It's our responsibility to cure him."

Macen's voice was brittle when he spoke. "Lieutenant, would you like to know what we're doing out here?"

Derrico hesitated, then nodded. Macen began to explain the reports the Federation had received. Then, he explained how the slated senior officers had been killed. Derrico had visibly paled by the time Macen began to explain what Viddan had revealed.

"Viddan's real name was Letal Siddran. He was a member of the Tal Shiar. His order has had a working arrangement with a group from the Federation. He did not have access to any of the group's members. What he did know was that there is a planet in the Beta Quadrant bordering Romulan space that is occupied by citizens from the Federation. The Tal Shiar does not operate this facility. The group they have their 'arrangement' with maintains it. The Romulans merely provide transportation for the prisoners through their space. In exchange for this, they may whatever information they can from the prisoners while they are in their care."

Macen stopped for a moment, his eyes were burning flames. "The prisoners on this planet are a select group from the Federation. They are dissidents. They have been captured by their respective governments and removed to this place. Apparently, this arrangement has been in place for quite some time. It was not noticed until the war quadrupled the number of prisoners being shipped off."

His eyes swept across the room. "We have also learned that Starfleet personnel are involved. They gave the Romulans our mission plans." He paused. "This means we are alone. We do not know whom we can trust. From this moment on, we are under communications silence. All transmissions must be authorised by Commander Danan or myself."

Silence descended over the room. Finally, Derrico spoke, "Sir, I...apologise for my earlier attitude and remarks."

Macen nodded acceptance, "It's all right. Feel free to speak your mind. Just remember that you can ask for more information. I'll let you know if I can't give you more."

Derrico nodded assent. "Dismissed."

"You may proceed, Mr. Data," Picard informed his Second Officer.

Data looked about the briefing room's table. The familiar faces were there -- Picard, Riker, Troi, Crusher, LaForge, and the newer faces of Perim and Daggit, as well. Data found it odd that Perim was still considered one of the newer faces. The Trill had joined the crew after the death of Lieutenant Hawke. She'd been with them during the Baku Insurrection and throughout the Dominion War. She'd proven herself a highly competent and loyal officer.

"Yes, Captain," Data said, beginning his presentation. "The U.S.S. Odyssey is a fairly unique ship. It was originally designed as a prototype to test the weapons arrays and power relays that would later be employed in the Defiant prototype."

"I thought that the Defiant-class had gone into full production," LaForge commented.

Data's eyebrows rose. "Indeed. The war slowed the production of more vessels of the class. It was decided that the Odyssey should be made operational and commissioned into service."

"What are her capabilities?" Riker asked.

"She has twice the defensive capability of a standard starship. She is also capable of sustained travel at warp nine point six."

Geordi whistled at that. Daggit scowled upon hearing the Odyssey's offensive punch. Riker and Picard exchanged worried glances. Troi suppressed a smile at seeing this.

"What about her captain?" Picard asked.

"A truly fascinating individual," Data commented. "Commander Brin Macen has served with Starfleet for Seventy-nine years.

"How is that possible?" Crusher asked.

"He is an El-Aurian, Doctor," Data replied.

"An El-Aurian?" Picard asked in surprise, "I was unaware of any El-Aurians serving in Starfleet."

"According to Starfleet records, there are only two," Data informed. "Brin Macen and Annika Ryst."

"Where is Annika Ryst?" Picard asked.

"Captain Ryst is currently serving as the commanding officer of the science vessel U.S.S. Liebnitz."

"I'm surprised," Picard admitted. "The El-Aurians are pacifists. I'm surprised they would be actively involved with Starfleet."

"Guinan served aboard the Enterprise-D," Troi reminded him.

"She was aboard, but not as a member of her crew," Picard made the distinction. "Her role was more of...advisor."

"I'm afraid that perception is a bit of a misnomer," Data corrected.

"Of her being an invaluable advisor? Explain."

"I would not presume to disparage Guinan in any way," Data amended. "But it is a popular misunderstanding that the El-Aurians are a completely pacifistic race."

Picard and the others were perplexed, so Data continued. "The El-Aurians enjoyed centuries of peace prior to the Borg invasion of their territory. That peace, however, was achieved by military means."

There was quite a stir at that revelation. Data pressed onward.

"The El-Aurians spent several millennia defeating invading neighbours. They then abandoned such efforts and turned towards more peaceful pursuits, as well as a philosophically based quest for perfection."

"Where've we heard that before?" Crusher laughed. "It's no wonder the Borg sought them out."

"Yes, Doctor," Data agreed. "The cultural fascination with establishing balance combined with the longevity of most of the race would make the El-Aurians valuable drones."

"That doesn't explain why he would join the Maquis," Picard said.

"The Maquis?" Riker asked in surprise. "A serving Starfleet officer that was also a Maquis?"

"Commander Macen appears to be an enigma of sorts," Data replied. "He is a respected analyst and scholar. He is also a feared Maquis commander. It may take some effort to truly try and comprehend him."

"Begin an analysis of his known tactics and prepare a report for Commander Riker, Lt. Daggit, and myself."

"Yes, sir."

Brin walked to the table with two trays. Lisea sat at the table waiting for him. He handed her one of the trays.

"Here's yours." His smile was one of chagrin. "If I'd known we'd have the opportunity for a quiet dinner, I'd have replicated something more...romantic.."

The woman's smile broadened with delight as she surveyed her plate. "This is fine. I haven't eaten squab since..." She frowned and shook her head.

"Right before we joined the Maquis," Macen replied.

"Before we were assigned to the Maquis," the woman corrected.

Macen shrugged. "Call it what you will."

The woman leaned back and laughed. It took her moment to stop. Her eyes were wistful. She bit her lip as remembrances of previous meals with Brin flooded her mind. The thing that complicated matters was that she'd never actually been at all of them. As the spots running down her neck indicated, Lisea Danan was a Trill. Her symbiont's previous host, Thora, had been an associate and close friend of Brin's. Lisea had met Brin years later while they served together aboard a survey ship.

She smiled and turned away, looking out the window. She knew Macen was studying her, just as she was studying him. She found him relatively unchanged from her last memories, except for the goatee. His red-gold hair and blue-green eyes were the same as always. She turned her head back towards him. Her dark eyes met his light ones. They weighed and measured one another. It was apparent that both of them were flooded with memories and feelings from their time together.

"You looked troubled for a moment," Brin commented, controlling the level of concern in his voice.

She smiled reassuringly. "Just a moment of dissonance. It's one of the reasons the Commission frowns on hosts interacting with previous hosts' loved ones, friends, or family."

"Must be difficult trying to sort out six people's lives while trying to resume your own," Brin replied.

She chuckled, then teasingly added, "A bit like trying to sort out four centuries and three quadrant's worth of experience?"

He grinned in chagrin. "A bit."

Brin had started his meal. Lisea remembered why Thora had considered him a dear friend. He was a bit mercurial and abrupt, but he was also decent. He had a forceful personality and a strong sense of honour. The first time she'd spent an hour with him and felt ready to trust him with her life.

Macen broke into a rueful grin. "Anyone ever tell you that you're dangerous?"

"No," Lisea replied, lacing her fingers together and laying her chin atop them.

"Well, you are," Brin informed her.

They sat in silence for several minutes, staring at one another.

"Well, we're a pair, aren't we?" he asked.

"Meaning?"

"Neither of us is saying a word," he replied with a wry grin.

"It's been a long three years," Lisea admitted.

"Tell me about it," he muttered.

"I can think of a few other things we could be doing to get...reacquainted," she said coyly.

"I see some things remain haven't changed," he said with a grin.

"No, they haven't," Lisea admitted. "I still love you."

"I still love you," Brin said solemnly. "Knowing you were out there, that's what kept me going during the war."

"Was it rough?" she asked.

There was a shadow in his eyes. "It was bad at times. I saw things that made the Maquis look like saints."

"Was there ever..." Her voice caught. "I'd understand, three years is a long time...was there ever anyone else?"

He shook his head, "No. Call me old fashioned, but all I could think about was getting back to you."

Her smile was one of relief. It turned wry when Brin asked, "What about you?"

"No," she confessed. "For all my cosmopolitan Trill upraising, I couldn't stand the thought of being with anyone else."

"I guess that means we should stay together," he said dryly.

"You think?" she retorted with equal sarcasm.

Sarcasm, banter, and their meal were all forgotten as they fell into each other's arms.

The door to T'Kir's quarters chimed. She growled in annoyance as she dropped her fork and yelled for whomever to come in. To her surprise, it wasn't Lisea Danan. She'd been expecting her to come and try and mark territory over Brin Macen since her arrival.

Who was standing there was a young lieutenant in science blues. "Can I come in?"

"I already said yes," T'Kir snapped testily. "What do you want?"

"The Captain asked me to drop by," the young man nearly stammered.

"The captain?" she repeated irritably. "Why would the Captain send a young morsel like you to me?"

The officer gulped. It was kind of cute. "He asked me to bring you these." He held out a bag contained several herbs and roots.

"Who are you?" she asked, baffled.

"Lt. Marc Berent," he answered. "I'm in Botany."

"And why did the Captain send you to me?" she asked again, rising from her chair and moving towards him like a predator.

He gulped again. "He wanted me to bring you Vulcan herbs."

"Vulcan?" she asked, momentarily stopping her approach.

"He wanted a series of herbs used to treat Vulcan children with over-developed mental powers. They use the herbs until they receive enough training to control their abilities." He shrugged. "At least that's what the computer said."

She grabbed him by the jacket lapels and kissed him fiercely. It was like no kiss he'd ever received. He was being devoured. There was a desperate passion to it that threatened to explode.

She released him, taking the herbs. "Thank you," she said demurely.

He stood there silently, waiting to see what happened next.

She turned. "Are you still here?" She waved her hand in a shushing motion. "You can leave now."

He nodded mutely and stepped outside into the hall. That was the most erotic experience of my life, he thought as the doors began to close.

"I heard that!" T'Kir called out before the doors finished closing.

Marc Berent ran down the corridor as though for his life.

"Counsellor, do you think that Macen can be reached?" Picard asked, sitting across from Troi on the couch in his Ready Room.

"Captain," she said with a smile, "I think anyone can be reached."

Picard chuckled at the ambiguity of his statement. "I meant, do you think that he really has gone rogue again, and if so, can he be convinced to surrender peacefully?"

Troi pondered the question a moment, then sat her teacup down as she answered. "I have no basis upon which to judge whether he has gone rogue or not. As far as whether he would listen to reason, I have been studying his histories and anthropological studies. He seems to be a reasonable man."

"That very well may be," Picard interjected. "But coming from such a radical background?"

Trio gave him a reassuring look. "He really doesn't have such a militant attitude. He is unorthodox. Frequently, he ignores regulations, but has always proven just cause for doing so. His career is a testimony to a brilliant researcher an analytical mind. Sounds like another Starfleet captain I know," Troi said with amused irony.

Picard grinned appreciatively. "Maybe that's what I'm afraid of. My encounter with the Borg brought out the worst in me. Perhaps I'm afraid the Maquis has done the same for Macen."

Troi nodded. "A legitimate fear. But remember, it can also have brought out the best in either of you."

Picard was about to thank her for her encouraging words when the comm transmitted Riker's voice.

"Captain, we've reached the Ktarrian border...and sir, there are two Romulan Warbirds already here."

"I'll be right there," Picard informed his first officer as he stood. Troi accompanied him as he proceeded to the bridge.

"Can I help you, Lieutenant?" Macen asked, looking up from one of the computer screens of his desk.

"I wanted to thank you for the herbs," T'Kir informed him. She still exhibited tics and her moods were still mercurial, but the edge was off. She was more restrained. Macen doubted she'd ever be "normal", either for Vulcans or humans, but she had definitely mellowed some already.

"Well, I finally had a clue about what was happening when you kept reacting to people's thoughts," he admitted, "Vulcans are typically touch telepaths. My reading revealed that occasionally a prodigy demonstrates superior ability. The are selected for intense mental training. Having been born on a colony world in the middle of the Demilitarised Zone, you didn't have access to that kind of training. The strain of always trying to block out thoughts all around you was a strain that eventually overwhelmed you. You react more to what others are thinking and feeling than to what they are feeling."

"All I know," she said with a snort, "is that I actually got a good night's sleep."

"Glad to hear it," Macen replied. "Of course, if I see Lt. Berent again, I doubt either of us will sleep at all."

Macen grinned. "Don't worry, T'Kir, I don't think anyone will ever confuse you for a 'normal' Vulcan."

"Good," she huffed as she left.

"Status of the Warbirds?" Picard asked as he took his chair.

"Ten thousand kilometres off our port and starboard side," Daggit answered.

"They haven't raised their shields or armed their weapons systems," Riker reported.

"Hail them," Picard ordered.

Daggit busied himself for a moment, then lifted his head. "The Romulans are responding."

"Put on screen," Picard told him.

The image that appeared on the screen surprised Picard. She was Romulan, but unlike any Romulan he'd ever encountered. She possessed the upswept ears and eyebrows that marked her race. From that point on, she defied the norms. She did not display the slight ridges in her forehead that differentiated Romulans from Vulcans. Her hair was long and curly, not short and straight, as was the custom within the Empire.

"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard, of the Federation starship Enterprise. Whom do I have the honour of addressing?"

A faint smile played across her lips. "I am Commander P'Ris. It is an...honour to meet the infamous Captain Picard."

"I am sure that 'infamous' would be an exaggeration," Picard replied modestly.

"Not at all." P'Ris laughed pleasantly. "You are a celebrity among my people. Many would gladly gave everything they have for the prestige your death at their hands would bring."

Picard's face remained impassive. "I find that unfortunate. Our people have been making great strides recently..."

"Captain," P'Ris interrupted, "the war is over. Any alliances formed during the war are also over. It would be best to remember that."

Picard noted the implicit threat in her words. "May I ask your business here?"

Her smile was confident as she spoke. "You may ask, but it is really none of your business. This is not Federation territory."

"Neither is it Romulan territory," Picard noted. "Yet, we are both here. Curious is it not?"

P'Ris asked artfully dodging his verbal challenge. "Captain, I will state our purpose...as a professional courtesy," P'Ris announced suddenly. "I am awaiting an envoy from the Ktarrians. We are discussing a new trade agreement."

"I was unaware of any trade arrangements between the Ktarrians and the Star Empire," Picard admitted.

"There are a great many things you are unaware of, Captain," she replied scornfully. "You would not allow yourself to be distracted by your shortcomings."

Picard remained impassive. Riker started a bit at that comment. He could see that several crewmen were visibly upset. That was what P'Ris wanted. He had to find a way to outmanoeuvre her.

"I shall take your words under consideration," he said pleasantly. "It so happens that I am awaiting a vessel here as well. Would you mind terribly if I wait alongside you?"

P'Ris' face remained smug, but he could see a door shutting behind her eyes. The Commander was upset by his presence. She held up a finger. A subordinate appeared to her right and leaned in to whisper something to her. She nodded to Picard, retaining her smile.

"Very well. I shall not interfere in your business, if you do not interfere in mine."

"Thank you," Picard replied humbly. "Maybe relations between our peoples have warmed, regardless of the war's cessation."

The monitor screen went blank. Picard glanced about the bridge. Several crewmen returned to monitoring their stations. Picard suppressed a grin. He'd done the same as a junior officer.

"She's not happy, Captain," Troi spoke from his left. "But she is not displeased."

Picard turned her way. "Explain."

Her brow furrowed. "She did not expect our appearance, but it has done nothing to alter her determination to fulfil her purposes here."

"Any clue as to what those might be?" Riker asked.

She shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid not. She's very good at controlling her emotions. She is also a person of frightening intelligence."

"Unfortunately, that still doesn't explain why they're here," Picard commented. "Is there any truth to their alleged purpose?"

Troi shrugged. "Her mental discipline is too great. I cannot tell."

"Captain," Daggit's voice called out. "The two Warbird's are cloaking."

"One consolation," Riker muttered, "is that they can't fire on us while they're cloaked."

"Very true," Picard agreed. "But it also gives them the element of surprise." He straightened himself. "Mr. Daggit, raise shields."

"Yes, sir," Daggit replied as though it was the most sensible order he'd heard all day.

"Captain," Danan spoke up. "Sensors are detecting a Federation starship at the extreme edge of their range. They are accompanied by two Romulan Warbirds."

Macen turned. "Can you tell what they are doing?"

Danan shook her head. "I can't tell. We're too far away." She paused then frowned. "The Romulans are cloaking."

"What about the Federation vessel?" he asked.

"She's staying put."

"I think we should pay her a visit," Macen commented, turning towards Derrico. "Raise shields and power the weapons."

"Yes, sir," Derrico replied happily.

"Ensign D'art, take us out of warp."

"Yes, sir," she replied, far less enthusiastically than Derrico. Beside her, T'Kir began to softly sing to herself. The Vulcan seemed to relish the thought of going into combat. God, get this nut off the bridge.

"I heard that," T'Kir sang.

"Sir," Daggit's voice rang across the bridge. "Sensors have detected a vessel dropping put of warp."

Picard shifted in his chair. "Who is she?"

Daggit's voice shook with surprise. "She's one of ours, sir. It's the Odyssey."

"Sir..." Derrico's voice wavered. "The Federation starship..." All the colour drained from his face. "It's the Enterprise."

Macen's jaw clenched. "Put her on screen."

The screen came to life. Inside its picture display lay the flagship of Starfleet. Macen had never seen the Sovereign class before. He was amazed to see that its lines were almost as sharp as his own ship's. Although, he mused, it's about three times as large.

"Status of the Odyssey?" Picard asked, out his seat.

"Her shields are up and weapons armed," Daggit reported.

"Has she targeted us?" Riker asked.

"No, sir," Daggit replied.

Riker stood and moved to where Picard was standing. "She isn't making any moves. What do you think it means?"

Picard turned towards Troi. "Counselor?"

"There is a lot of confusion and worry," Troi informed him.

"And the Romulans?"

"A sense of purpose."

"Let's see how they respond to a hail," Picard decided aloud. "Open a channel, Mr. Daggit."

"They're hailing us," Derrico announced.

"Let's see what they have to say," Macen replied.

Picard was again surprised by the image that appeared before him. He was familiar with the fact that El-Aurians were long-lived, but seeing a four hundred and twenty-seven year old man look as though the first four hundred years never occurred was unnatural. Macen's appearance vaguely reminded him of his own first officer. The ease with which he sat in the command chair marked a born leader.

"Greetings, Captain Macen," Picard said jovially. "What an unexpected surprise."

Macen's expression remained carefully neutral. "Indeed it is, Captain Picard."

"Is there any particular reason your defensive systems are activated?" Picard asked.

"We detected some anomalous readings on our approach. It is merely a precautionary measure," Macen explained.

"Now that you know what those readings are, perhaps you could power down your weapons," Picard suggested.

Macen's eyebrow quirked. "Who said the readings had been explained?"

"Traitor!" Daggit shouted. "You betrayed us all!"

Macen started at the voice. Picard spun, staring at his Tactical officer in outrage. Riker stood and approached his station. Picard returned his attention to the screen as Riker dealt with the outburst.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Captain," Picard said honestly.

"Rab Daggit," Macen muttered to himself. "He's still alive."

Picard was confused by Macen's shaken condition. Did he know Daggit? How? When? Why hadn't he said anything? Damn it all! A moment later, all hell broke loose.

"Romulan Warbirds de-cloaking!" Danan announced.

"Where?" Macen demanded.

"Port and Starboard of the Enterprise," Derrico called out.

"Engineering," Macen called into the comm. "Tarrik, can we go to maximum warp."

"Yes," Tarrik answered ruefully, "But I wouldn't recommend it."

"No choice," Macen replied sourly. He turned to Derrico. "Fire phasers starboard, quantum torpedoes port. Helm, plot an escape course along our original destination. Go to maximum warp on my command."

Derrico and D'art acknowledged their readiness in unison.

"Fire," he said.

"The Romulans have de-cloaked!" Riker declared from Tactical. "They're powering weapons."

"Power ours," Picard snapped off.

"The Odyssey has fired!" Riker reported. "So have the Romulans."

The Odyssey shook from the impacts on the shields.

"Damage report?" Macen asked.

"Shields at sixty percent," Derrico answered. "No other damage reported."

Why do the shields always drop to sixty percent? Macen thought, but aloud he said, "Execute warp drive."

Space warped around the ship as she accelerated to warp nine point nine.

"The Odyssey has exited the system at...warp nine point six," Riker reported, not grimacing over the number as he said it. "The Romulans are also departing," he continued. "They're powering down weapons and cloaking."

"Secure all stations," Picard ordered. "Stand down from red alert." He turned toward Daggit. "My Ready room. Now!" He paused. "Commander Riker, will you join us as well?"

He turned to Perim, "Follow the Odyssey's warp trail, best possible speed."

He followed Riker and Daggit to his Ready Room. The door closed behind them with an ominous hiss.

"What the hell was that?" Picard demanded, whirling on Daggit.

Daggit's eyes narrowed. "I know him, sir. Starfleet sent him to Angosia. He was sent to bring us into the Dominion War. He said we would receive treatment for the engineering they did to us. He lied."

"Did you receive treatment?" Picard asked coldly.

"Yes," Daggit admitted slowly. "But only after half my commando unit had died."

"Was Macen responsible for the delay?" Picard asked.

"Not directly, sir." Daggit answered, shuffling his feet. He averted his eyes.

"You will look at me when I am addressing you," Picard snapped. "It seems to me that you are blaming Captain Macen for things that were out of his control."

"But he said..."

"What he thought was the truth," Picard said sadly. "I think that both sides were manipulated by Starfleet Command."

Daggit remained silent for a long time then grudgingly he said, "That may be possible."

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant."

Daggit left. Picard turned to Riker. "I'm beginning to feel manipulated myself."

"I agree," Riker said grimly, "That situation with the Romulans was too pat. It was a trap."

"But for whom?" Picard asked. "That is the mystery that must be solved."

"Engineering, what's our status?" Macen asked.

"The warp core is starting to heat up," Tarrik reported. "We haven't had time to finish all our repairs."

"Understood," Macen replied. "Helm, drop us to warp six."

D'art grunted as she obeyed.

Macen turned to Lisea. "Commander Danan, please join me in my Ready Room. Lt. Derrico, you have the bridge."

After they entered, Macen began angrily pacing. "What the hell was that?"

Danan's face was as grim as his mood.

"I wish I knew."

Macen was stymied. "I cannot believe Picard was there. What was he doing with two Romulan Warbirds?"

Danan frowned. "Was he with them, or are we meant to think that he was?"

Macen shook his head in frustration. "I don't know. I have a hard time believing Picard would be involved. Especially not after his stance regarding the Baku relocation."

"It may have been a ruse," she warned.

"I doubt it," he replied, wearing a wry expression. "He commands too much respect from Guinan to be that sort."

Danan snorted. "It's not as though you and Guinan exactly see eye to eye."

"No," he admitted. "But we have always respected one another. I respect her judgement in this." His eyes met hers, "The Enterprise never fired."

"He may have been worried about surviving records," she said, continuing in her role as devil's advocate.

"No," Macen answered with conviction. "The commander of the Slipstream had no such convictions. I doubt that Picard would have either if he'd been involved."

"Do you want to try and contact them then?"

"No," he said with a sigh. "They were still sent here by someone in Command that wanted us observed or stopped. Until we know what the Enterprise's role here is, we can't afford to trust her."

"So the rules of engagement are?" she asked impatiently.

He chuckled at her. "Avoid if possible, hail if necessary."

"And if they shoot?" she asked darkly.

"We face that alternative if it arises," he said with finality.

She nodded assent. "Sounds fair enough."

"You take the bridge," he ordered. "I've some research to do that may shed some light on this."

Danan nodded and began to depart when Macen stopped her. "And Commander, inform me if the Enterprise appears on our sensors."

She smiled as she stepped out. Macen sat down at his desk and activated the data retrieval systems. This was going to take work. With luck, they could avoid a crisis long enough for him to find what he was looking for.

Admiral Nechayev's sharp face appeared on Picard's private comm viewer in his Ready Room,

"Greetings Admiral," he began politely.

"Captain, I don't have a great deal of time to waste on idle chit-chat," Nechayev replied impatiently. "Please get to the point."

"I have just had a strange encounter with two Romulan Warbird's, and a starship that appears to be operating under your orders."

"You had a run-in with the Odyssey?" she asked sharply. "Her mission area is hundreds of light years from your assigned survey. How did you come to be in that region of space?"

In for a penny, Picard thought. "I was given orders by Admiral Jellico to intercept and investigate Captain Macen and his crew."

Nechayev rubbed her eyes. "What the hell is Bob playing at?" She straightened up, facing Picard's image. "Captain, we've had our differences in the past, but you are an officer of considerable ability. I respect you and your integrity."

Picard was stunned by these admissions, but he opted to remain silent as Nechayev continued.

"I am relying on that integrity now. What I am about to tell you, Captain, is of the utmost secrecy. Captain Macen is on a mission of vital importance. Any and all assistance you can give him will benefit the entire Federation."

"I shall do my best, but a clearer understanding of the situation would enable me to..."

"Captain, I cannot trust Starfleet's communication security enough to divulge anything at this time. When you next encounter Macen, invoke the Zenith protocol. He'll take into his confidence after that." She paused, "And Captain, I must request that you do not inform Admiral Jellico on any of this."

Picard sighed. "I feared as much."

"I'll handle Bob Jellico," Nechayev assured him. "You help Macen. He's one of the best, Picard. You just have to make...allowances."

"Understood," Picard replied as he deactivated the comm. He was certain that he didn't want to learn what sort of allowances would be required from him.