Chapter 7
by Travis Anderson

Picard stepped into Alynna Nechayev's office. The Admiral was absorbed by the contents of a padd she held. She held up her other hand and motioned Picard closer.

He broke into a wry smile and stepped forward. It wasn't that he and the Admiral were enemies, they just had different methods of dealing with a crisis. Although Picard was adept at subtlety, he preferred keeping things as open and honest as possible. Nechayev, on the other hand, was the queen of mischief and mirrors. That, he mused, is why she is the Director of Starfleet Intelligence and I'm a humble Starship captain.

Although, he had to admit, he wasn't that humble. He certainly wasn't vain, but the Captain knew exactly where his talents lay. He knew his strengths and how deeply they ran. His disparity with an egotist was that he was also aware of his many deficiencies.

Nechayev sat the padd down and gave him a pleasant smile. "How can I assist you, Captain?"

Picard returned the smile. "I believe that I may assist you."

Nechayev's interest was certainly piqued. "And how is that?"

"I would like to join in whatever efforts are being made to assist Captain Macen's mission."

Nechayev chuckled. "Just can't stay away, eh Picard?"

Picard chuckled good naturedly. "I suppose not."

Nechayev stood and motioned for him to follow. "Then you'd better follow me."

"Where are we going?"

"To Command and Control," Nechayev answered. "The Klingons reported Macen's transit across their space. Now he's making for earth like a bat out of hell."

Picard gave her a wry grin. "He certainly can in that ship."

She nodded knowingly. "He certainly broke all of the Enterprise's records while eluding you."

"A fact that has been causing my Chief Engineer to loose some sleep," Picard replied.

"I'm sure Mr. LaForge will find a way to even the odds," Nechayev said consolingly.

The pair entered a turbolift near the Admiral's office. After receiving its destination orders, it then received security clearance verification from both officers.

Picard had never before gone to Command and Control, which was popularly referred to as the Nerve Centre. It was the cerebral cortex of Starfleet. It monitored every starship and outpost in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. Abandoned bases and colonies in the Gamma Quadrant were being re-established now that the war had ended, adding to the Nerve Centre's jurisdiction and reach.

Picard wasn't sure of what he was expecting when the doors opened, but the reality exceeded it. He'd thought the astrometrics lab in the Enterprise was impressive. Now he knew what impressive truly was. The entire room was a map of the galaxy with a central area with monitors and consoles. Any sector, any system with significant Starfleet presence could be brought up.

"I...I never knew," Picard whispered in awe.

"That is the idea," Nechayev chided.

"How is this possible?"

"Most of the data is received from traffic beacons and navigational satellites," Nechayev informed him.

"Isn't that slightly..." Picard paused as words escaped his grasp.

"Immoral, paranoid, or perhaps deceitful?" Nechayev asked sarcastically. "Come now, Captain, we monitor vessels. These systems are neither designed nor utilised to monitor individuals upon a planet."

Picard knew the reasoning behind the Federation's prohibitions. Late twenty and twenty-first century Earth had utilised intelligence satellites to monitor first nations and then individuals. Before the wars that occurred just prior to First Contact, the satellites boasted powerful weaponry as well so they could eliminate those they observed. Nowhere had been shelter enough against their enhanced "senses".

"How can we track all of this?" he asked.

"It has become easier over the years," Nechayev admitted. "Neuro-gel pack technology has enhanced our capabilities greatly. The greatest factor, though, is that we concentrate our attention based upon reports received from starships on the line."

"Where is the Odyssey?" Picard asked.

Nechayev smiled. "Before we get to that, there's someone I'd like to introduce you to." She turned towards an officer watching over several of the techs and analysts. "Alicia, can you step over here?"

The woman that stepped over was young for her Admiral's rank. She wasn't much older than Picard had been when he'd received his first command. She had lines around the corners of her mouth and eyes, indicating her propensity towards smiling. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail.

Nechayev made introductions. "Admiral Alicia Drake, I'd like to introduce Captain Jean-Luc Picard."

The name made Picard's mind began reviewing references to where he may have heard it before. When he made the connection, his mouth dropped open.

"The 'Fire Drake'?" he asked incredulously.

Drake laughed. It had a rich, earthy flavour to it. "I see my reputation, and that of my granduncle, have preceded me."

Picard still found it difficult to believe. Alicia Drake was a veritable legend within the Internal Affairs Division of Starfleet. Her reputation was well earned as a vigorous investigator into malfeasance. That was partly derived from her own infamous grandfather's attempted coup at Khitomer.

Nechayev seemed to be reading his mind. "I couldn't let such obvious analytical talent remain wasted."

Picard shook his head. This was one of those points that the Admiral and he disagreed. She saw an officer with Drake's immense talent as being under-utilised in IA. Picard, on the other hand, felt that she had more than lived up to her potential. Such a disparity was typical of their professional differences.

"Admiral Drake has been tracking the developments surrounding the Odyssey's mission," Nechayev informed him. She turned to Drake. "What is her status?"

Drake grinned. "They cleared the Klingon Empire in record time. Their ETA in Sector One is currently forty-two hours."

"Any ships deviating from their assigned sectors to investigate or intercept?"

Drake shook her head. "No. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad one."

"That, my dear Admiral," Nechayev said cynically, "remains to be seen."

Aboard the Odyssey, life had returned to a measure of normality. The crew had readily accepted the news of their ship's impending doom. They had little choice since their captain seemed resolute about returning her to Sector 1.

Macen and Danan spent most of their time trying to sort the terragigs of data. The sheer volume of what they'd captured was daunting. The worst revelations did not come in the form of the who's or why's, but the absence of the complete picture.

Section 31 had covered their tracks again. They'd left enough evidence to convict disposable members of the operation, but enough to reveal the totality of the Section's existence.

Picard had returned to the Enterprise after his discussion with Admiral Nechayev. There truly wasn't a great deal he could do at this point except await further orders. The ship was in a southern orbit over Australia. Most of the crew was enjoying shore leave.

Riker and Daggit had volunteered to supervise a skeleton crew. Picard felt mildly guilty over this and wanted to give them the opportunity to partake of some leave themselves. When he entered the bridge, he was relieved to find both officers present. Both of them instinctively gave him their full attention.

"Commander Riker, Lieutenant Daggit, will you please report to my Ready Room?"

Both officers followed Picard. Once inside, he turned and smiled pleasantly. "It appears that things are going to be quiet for at last another thirty-six hours. If either, or both, of you would like some time on Earth, now is the time to take it."

Riker grinned laconically. "Deanna is with Dr. Crusher in Paris. They are taking some time to be 'girlish'. If it's all the same to you, sir, I'd like to stay aboard and help in any way I can."

Picard smiled appreciatively, then turned to Daggit. "And how about you, Lieutenant?"

The Angosian looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I...I decline the offer."

Picard and Riker exchanged a curious glance. Daggit's nervous tone bespoke of an inner turmoil that was threatening to overwhelm him. When dealing with the likes of an enhanced former commando with Daggit, any kind of incident could prove fatal. Picard wanted to know if there was a potential hazard well before it may appear.

"Sir," Daggit said in a quivering voice, "I request that you place me under arrest."

Both Riker and Picard were visibly stunned by the unexpected request. "Is there any particular reason for this request?" Riker asked.

Daggit shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I have good reason. I am about to commit a direct violation of orders from a superior officer and break Security Regulation Eleven."

Picard's head threatened to spin, but he refused to allow it. "You are about to reveal a Level Six secret? Why and how exactly did you come by this information?"

Daggit was sweating now. "Sir, I must ask that I be placed under arrest."

Picard shook his head. "You explain what secrets you are determined to divulge and I'll explain the matter to Admiral Nechayev."

"May I sit?" Daggit almost pleaded.

"Certainly," Picard answered motioning towards the couch.

Daggit sat and looked up uncomfortably at Riker and Picard, who remained standing.

"It started when Brin Macen came to Angosia."

"You stated some displeasure at Mr. Macen's recruiting of you and your fellow commandos," Picard recalled.

"Yes," Daggit admitted with a heavy sigh. "There was that. The largest part was in how we were used."

"Used in what way?" Riker asked as he pulled up a chair and sat down, straddling it.

"Captain Macen was also in charge of our mission," Daggit admitted slowly.

"What mission?" Picard asked sharply, his eyes keen.

Daggit's face lost colour as several muscles flexed in his jaw. "We were assigned to a Nova class starship, the Infinity."

Picard's eyes widened. "The Infinity was lost before the Dominion War, in the Gamma Quadrant."

Daggit shook his head. "No, sir. She wasn't. That was her cover. She was re-assigned to Starfleet Intelligence. She was used for reconnaissance and insertion missions." The bitterness in his voice left no doubt about the underlying nature of those missions.

"Suicide missions," Riker said grimly.

Daggit nodded. "Yes, sir. We were assigned to the mission because we stood a better chance of surviving."

"I take it that wasn't the case," Picard said sourly.

"Unfortunately," Daggit said tersely.

"What was Macen's reaction to this?" Riker asked.

Daggit snorted. "I think a small part of the Captain died every time a member of the crew bought it. There wasn't anything he could do about it."

"He couldn't protest the nature of the assignments?" Picard scoffed.

Daggit's eyes became fierce. "No, sir. He couldn't."

"And why not?" Picard asked sombrely.

"I think he was trying to make amends," Daggit admitted aloud for the first time.

"For the deaths of the Maquis?" Picard asked.

Daggit nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Every death just made him more determined."

"Did you consider him unfit for command?" Picard asked seriously.

Daggit paused before answering. "No, sir. We never thought that. Captain Macen did his duty. He did a damn good job of it too."

"Then why the anger towards him?"

Daggit's eyes held intense pain in them as he answered. "He was too damn good. We didn't all go out in a bang. We kept succeeding, and every time we succeeded, they sent us to another death trap."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Picard told him. "Those admissions could not have come easily."

"No, sir," Daggit admitted ruefully. "They didn't."

"Here is another difficult question," Picard warned him. "Do you feel capable of performing your duty to the best of your ability?"

Daggit looked from Picard to Riker. There was an intense struggle occurring behind his eyes. His face contorted as he faced his own limitations and desires. Finally, he shook his head.

"No, I don't," he said hoarsely. "I just want to go somewhere quiet, where I don't have to fight any more."

Picard reached down and squeezed the man's shoulder. "I believe that can be arranged."

Picard beamed down to meet with Admirals Nechayev and Drake. Daggit had been sent to Starfleet Medical to seek further treatment for his "alterations". He was also being placed on Inactive Duty until a posting on a tranquil world could be found.

Nechayev had been upset by Daggit's initial disclosures but had been pleased by their effect upon Picard, so she had forgiven them. Which was not to say she had forgotten them in any way. Drake excused herself in order to continue her monitoring of the Odyssey's progress.

Picard and Nechayev sat across from each other in her office and glared at one another.

"How could you?" Picard asked accusingly. "How could you send these men on these missions, knowing full well the state they were in? My God, we denied Angosia's admission to the Federation owing to their treatment of the commandos. What kind of message have we sent them by returned to utilise that which we condemned?"

"That didn't matter at the time," Nechayev replied dispassionately. "What did matter was the thousands of deaths that were taking place on a daily basis."

"Of course it matters!" Picard protested. "It always matters."

"Don't even slip into your higher than thou mode with me, Picard," she warned him coldly. "I will not tolerate it. That attitude of yours is exactly why you and your crew served on the periphery of the war and not directly under Admiral Ross' command."

"My attitude?" Picard asked, stunned.

"You seem to think that you are the conscience of Starfleet," Nechayev answered scornfully. "I hate to inform you, but we already have and Inspector General. You're devotion to the ideals of the Federation are admirable." Her eyes softened a bit. "In fact, that devotion is one the single greatest reasons why I respect you." Her eyes narrowed again. "However, you allow your personal indignation interfere with certain...necessities of war."

"Such as exploiting broken men for reasons of expediency?" Picard snapped.

"Such as utilising a forgotten resource that may obtain the data necessary to preserve billions of lives." Nechayev's voice flashed with inner fire. "These men were the most highly qualified individuals in the entire damn Alpha Quadrant for what we were asking of them. Are you suggesting that I should have abandoned my recruiting of them because I didn't agree with how they received those qualifications?" she asked acidly. "Hell, I don't like how most Andorians receive their combat training at home, but I don't let that affect my judgement on whether or not I should allow them to serve."

Picard's jaw worked side to side for a moment. "I am forced to agree with your logic, but not the practice of it." His voice grew quieter. "Macen served under you, how could you send him on a mission like this?"

"War is hell, Captain," Nechayev replied thickly. "It forces you to put aside personal considerations in favour of professional ones. This man led a fleet against the Borg and survived. He fought in the Cardassian wars. He's fought against species we've never heard of yet. He's an expert on intelligence gathering and system surveys. He was the best choice for the mission."

"And of the price to him personally?"

"It's a price he's willing to pay," Nechayev answered in a voice that made space seem warm.

"We've got a problem," Tarrik grunted.

Macen sighed. "What is it, Chief?"

"The quantum breakdown is accelerating due to the prolonged use of the warp drive at maximum," Tarrik informed him.

Macen leaned against the railing that surrounded the warp core. "How long do we have?"

"Maybe twenty hours."

Macen gave the engineer a sharp glance. "Maybe twenty hours?"

"Give or take eight hours."

Macen dropped his face into his hand. "Our ETA for Earth is eighteen hours. Can you hold her together that long?"

Tarrik shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I don't know, sir."

Macen patted him on the shoulder. "Your orders are to find a way."

"Aye, sir," Tarrik replied with a profound sense of fatalism.

"At least we have a list of those responsible," Macen commented, twirling a padd between his hands.

"We have a list of every political leader and every Marine officer involved," Danan clarified.

The rest of the senior staff nodded appreciatively. The group surrounding the Briefing Room table had changed quite a bit since they'd left SpaceDock. One of their former number now lay in the brig. That knowledge, and the knowledge of the impending destruction of their vessel, had eroded much of their original confidence.

"I will be beaming down alone to the Council chambers when we reach Earth," Macen informed them.

Derrico and Kort both erupted into protests in stereo. Macen held up a hand to deflect their voices. When they didn't halt their protestations, he slammed that hand down on the table. The silence that followed was profound.

"I will travel to the surface alone," he repeated, his voice rigid. "Commander Danan will remain here in command." His eyes swept every face in the room, searching for further protests. Finding none, he continued. "Several members of Starfleet have been identified as being involved. Some are involved without their knowledge of the consequence of their actions." His eyes locked on Danan's. "If something happens to me, you are to use whatever means prove necessary to get someone to examine the evidence we have gathered."

"Yes, sir," she said through gritted teeth.

"Now that this has been settled, I need to everyone to focus on something else," he said gravely. "Try and find a way to hold this ship together."

Picard and Nechayev joined Drake in the Nerve Centre. They arrived to find the complex in quite a stir.

"What's going on?" Nechayev demanded of Drake.

Drake looked stricken. "We have two ships moving on an intercept course towards the Odyssey."

"Which two?" Nechayev's voice was as fierce as her facial expression.

"The Charleston and the Reclamation," came the answer.

"Who ordered the interception?"

"I did," answered a confident voice from the opening lift doors. "Just as I'm about to order your arrests."

Nechayev, Drake, and Picard all looked at Admiral Robert Jellico in stunned astonishment.

"What's our status?" Macen asked.

"Sensors are clear," T'Kir reported.

"Tactical at stand-by," Derrico added.

There was a pause from Danan. Macen stood from his chair and looked back.

"Commander Danan, do you have something to report?"

Danan frowned as she turned from her display. "Someone's trying to masque it, but a lot of comm traffic nearby is about us."

"That's to be expected," Macen assured her. "We are breaking every speed and traffic lane reg in the quadrant."

She shook her head. "No, sir. Most of the traffic is being scrambled. It's also being directed at mobile receivers."

"Starships," Derrico said even as Macen thought it.

"Can you triangulate the position and bearing of those ships?" Macen asked.

"I can try," she replied.

"T'Kir, what's our ETA for Earth?"

"Eight hours."

I just hope we make it, he thought to himself.

"I couldn't agree more, sir," T'Kir whipped off.

"Stay out of my thoughts, Lieutenant," he sighed.

"Don't think about me so hard and I will," she cracked.

"You wish I thought about you that hard, Lieutenant," he whipped back.

"Yes, sir," she replied earnestly. "That I do."

Jellico had not come to the Nerve Centre alone. With him were two individuals, one male and one female, both in Starfleet uniform. The man wore command departmental colours and the rank insignia of a Commander. The woman wore Security gold, based on the phaser on her hip, and bore Lieutenant Commander's rank pips.

"Allow me to introduce two of my aides," Jellico said laconically. "My Chief of Staff, Commander Hal Ran." He motioned toward the man on his right. "And my Strategic Advisor, Lt. Commander Della Voos."

Picard's eyes narrowed as he scrutinised both officers. "Have you thoroughly examined their records?" Picard asked with a hint of irony.

"Of course not," Jellico flustered. "Why would I do that?"

"We are investigating a conspiracy involving elements of Starfleet Intelligence and Security," Picard replied mildly.

"Not on my staff," Jellico informed him smugly.

"And how well do you know them?"

"Dammit Picard!" Jellico snapped. "You cannot divert me from your failure with these baseless innuendoes."

"What failure?" Picard asked angrily.

"The failure to report directly to me if you had any contact whatsoever with Macen," Jellico reminded him.

"That order was superseded by those of a superior officer and extenuating circumstances," Picard replied flatly.

"Which brings us to the other member of this little conspiracy," Jellico sneered. Jellico approached Nechayev and stood inches from her face. "Did you really think you could get away with this?"

Nechayev's eyes narrowed. "I am trying to end the conspiracy, not achieve its ends." Her voice became scornful. "Can you say the same, Bob?"

"The receiving ships are almost four hundred thousand kilometres out," Danan informed Macen.

"Can they intercept?" Macen asked calmly.

"Not before we reach Sector One," Danan reported.

Macen found her detachment refreshing. The others found such news either comforting or dismal. The name Sector One, or Earth, did not evoke all that much of an emotional reaction from it. It was just another place to Macen. The world of his birth was across the galaxy.

"Good," he replied with grim satisfaction.

"You are accusing me of trying to deport Federation citizens to some Romulan hellhole?" Jellico laughed in her face. "That's rich, Alynna."

"Then why are you here, interfering with our attempts to stop it?" she asked harshly.

"I was informed of the plot by Commander Voos. Commander Ran confirmed it. They showed me proof of Starfleet Intelligence's complicity," Jellico answered confidently.

"And where did they obtain this evidence?" Nechayev asked.

Jellico's mouth opened in reply, then snapped shut. He stepped back from Nechayev. His eyes stayed locked on hers. He motioned Ran and Voos forward.

"Hold them here," he said as a cocky smile crossed his face. "We'll witness the capture of the Odyssey and the capture of her incriminating evidence from here."

The hours ticked by slowly. The tension level ratcheted upwards. Although most of the crew were veterans of the Dominion War, the majority still were not seasoned enough not to let their tension show.

If he hadn't been trying so hard not to demonstrate his own case of nerves, Macen would have found it amusing. He'd discovered early on that half of command was sitting back and appearing confident while the crew did their jobs. That wasn't always the easiest thing. It was hardest when things could easily go to hell.

He had to admit that this was one of those situations. The pursuing Starfleet vessels were only forty minutes behind them. The good news was that they were only ninety-six minutes from Earth. The bad news was that they had no clue as to the reception they'd be receiving.

To make matters worse, Tarrik's latest estimate placed the ship as crumbling apart in three hundred minutes. There was nothing he could do about it, so the Captain remained focused on appearing confident for the rest of the crew's sake.

"Where will Captain Macen deliver his report?" Ran asked Nechayev softly.

Nechayev heard the ice underneath his polished veneer and knew that his question would only be asked once this politely. She shrugged. "With Macen, who knows?"

Ran slapped her across the face. The echo of it rang across the Centre. Several techs looked away from their consoles to observe what was happening. Picard started forward but was stopped by Voos pulling her phaser out and pointing it at his chest.

"Is this necessary?" Picard shouted in outrage.

Ran gazed at him coldly. Picard could see the contempt in the Commander's eyes.

"She must learn respect and obedience."

"Now, wait a minute," Jellico protested from behind Ran. "I never authorised the use of force. They will be interrogated by the proper..."

"Silence!" Ran roared. "Or I will have you silenced."

Jellico's face turned an interesting shade of purple, but his mouth clamped shut.

Ran gave Nechayev a reproachful look. "Let us begin again, Admiral. Where will Macen deliver his report?"

Nechayev gave him a brittle smile. Her face was already swelling and bruising. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."

Ran's next blow caught her squarely in the abdomen. She collapsed to the deck, gasping for air. Picard rippled again. Voos edged closer.

Ran turned to Picard. He still wore a wintry smile. "I see that this is getting us nowhere. We'll simply have to wait and see what the good captain decides to do."

"Sector One Traffic Control has us on their scopes," Derrico reported then smirked. "They're asking us to slow down."

Macen shook his head with a chuckle. "We'll slow down at the emergency lunar marker." He rose from his chair and went to the Science Station. He leaned over Danan's shoulder. "There's something I have to show you," he whispered.

She glanced up into his eyes. She was calm and confident. Macen was grateful for her unspoken support. Her commitment to his plan meant more to him than any accolades they might receive if they stayed alive long enough to get any.

He handed her a padd. "Read the contents of this, then delete the data."

Both his tone and his emotionless expression told her what this would be. She glanced down and it confirmed her guess. She read it quickly, committing it to memory. She hit the delete key and the data flashed off the screen. She met his gaze levelly.

"If it proves necessary, the orders will be carried out."

She was grateful she'd managed to keep her voice as level as her gaze. She knew he'd given her the orders to prepare her, and as a sign of his trust in her. She knew she couldn't willingly betray that trust.

Macen gave her a wry smile. "I wish it weren't necessary, Lisea, but it will be."

Alarms sounded throughout Starfleet Command. Those alarms were spread throughout the system. Stardock went on alert and raised its shields. In orbit, the Enterprise also raised shields and awaited the Odyssey's arrival.

Riker sat in the command chair and wondered why he hadn't heard from Captain Picard yet. He knew that Picard had desired to extend any assistance he could to the Odyssey's crew. He'd expected to receive orders on how to accomplish that. He had not expected a system wide alert.

"Break orbit, Lt. Perim," Riker instructed.

The Trill helmsman's fingers flew over her console. "Leaving orbit now," she reported.

Riker turned to Data. "Data, can you plot where the Odyssey will attempt orbital insertion?"

Data studied his sensor display for a moment then lifted his head and stared at the viewer in a distracted way. He became "cognisant" seconds later and turned to face Riker.

"I believe the Odyssey's best insertion trajectory will place them over San Francisco."

And over the President's Office, the Federation Council Chambers Complex, and Starfleet Command and the Academy, Riker mused in begrudging appreciation of the high-speed approach.

"That's going to take a hell of a helm officer," Perim commented.

"Come now, Lieutenant," Riker chided with a twinkle in his eye. "You could make that insertion easily."

She turned and gave him a mischievous grin. "That's because I am one hell of a helm officer."

Experience told Riker not to debate her. All the evidence was stacked in her favour.

Danan sat in the command chair. Macen had stepped off the bridge in order to go to Transporter Room One. They had just dropped to impulse and were headed straight for Earth at full thrust. Although she and T'Kir had programmed the orbital insertion together, she still had qualms about it. T'Kir on the other hand...the Vulcan was at her station bobbing her head up and down.

Danan had asked her about it earlier. The Vulcan had referred to it as "head-banging". Not only that, but it was..."to rock". The metaphor was absolutely lost on Lisea. She could see no point in pretending that one was intentionally bashing one's head into a rock. If it were an opponent then certainly, and by all means, but a rock?

T'Kir stopped "banging" and turned give Danan a look of strained patience. "It's not into a rock, it's to Rock." She gave Lisea a chilly stare with implications regarding Danan's intelligence. "Just forget about it. You'll never get it."

With that, T'Kir returned to her instruments. She also did it without any bizarre movements of her head. For that, Danan was grateful. This next manoeuvre would be difficult enough without wondering about the ship's Ops officer's sanity.

"I heard that," T'Kir called out accusingly.

"They are beginning their orbital insertion," Data reported.

"Put it on main viewer," Riker ordered.

The manoeuvre was as elegant as it was unorthodox. The ship "slid" into orbit by turning sideways and letting the outer atmospheric shell of the planet assist in the braking. Riker could only wonder at what kind of adjustments to the shields and structural integrity fields had been required.

Data and Perim were equally impressed. Data examined his sensor displays. "One transport beam has been directed at the planet's surface."

"Location?" Riker asked, instantly cautious.

"The Federation Council's Chambers Complex," Data reported, then cocked his head to one side. "Two more ships are in-bound, dropping out of warp."

Riker fought the urge to swear. The lunar marker was the closest anyone was allowed to use warp engines for reasons of safety. The Terran-Lunar corridor was filled with traffic. Dropping out of warp this close to the planet could prove disastrous.

"Sir!" Data called out with alarm. "One of the ships has just collided with a freighter."

"Damage?" Riker asked with a mixture of anger and concern.

"The starship is undamaged, her shields were up," Data replied efficiently, then he paused for several seconds. "There are no life signs in the wreckage of the freighter."

Riker could hear the sorrow in the android's voice thanks to the Other's emotion ship. Riker shoved his own aside as anger swelled up in him to replace it.

"Give me the name's of those two starships," he growled.

"The Perseverance and the Fortitude," Data reported.

"Hail them," Riker ordered.

"Shields up," Danan ordered.

"Captain," Tarrik's voice came over the comm. "We cannot go into combat. The ship won't hold together."

"I don't plan to, Chief," Danan informed him. "Please report to the Cargo bay. Co-ordinates have been laid into the controls. Stand-by for further orders after arrival."

"I can't abandon my post," Tarrik protested.

"You aren't," Danan replied with quiet strength. "You are being ordered to another."

A moment's pause, then a grudging, "Aye, sir."

Danan turned to Derrico. "Inform the crew to proceed to the escape pods. We're abandoning ship."

Derrico managed to avoid releasing a strangled cry. He nodded mutely and complied. Danan turned to the faces staring at her across the bridge. She smiled wanly.

"That goes for all of you as well, with the exception of the senior staff and Ensign Grace." The crewmen stared at each other in stunned silence then began to clear the bridge. Danan turned to Derrico. "Mr. Derrico, please hail our pursuers."

Derrico's face twisted into a wry grimace. "I don't have to. They're hailing us."

Alarms sounded across the Nerve Centre. Panicked techs darted form station top another. Several yelled instructions to one another, then silence descended.

The eerie calm was broken by Ran's impatient voice. "What's happened?"

A tech turned to him, his face glazed over with numb shock. "The U.S.S. Fortitude...it just collided with the freighter Olga coming out of warp."

"Was the starship damaged?" Ran demanded.

The tech slowly shook his head. His words came slowly, as if in a dream. "No. Her shields were up, but...there're no life signs from the Olga." The techs eyes were filled with anguish and pain. "They're dead."

"The fortunes of war," Ran replied coldly.

"This isn't a damn war," Picard growled.

Ran's head snapped around. "Isn't it? It has become a war of ideology hasn't it? Your way versus our way?"

Picard shook his head sadly. "There is no struggle occurring except for the one you are creating."

Ran's smile made Picard's blood run cold. "I did nothing to create this struggle, Captain. All of the participants have been awaiting their opportunity for the actions we have undertaken. We have merely channelled that desire."

Picard's eyes narrowed. "Channelled it into what, exactly?"

Ran's eyes shone with his zeal. "The chance to preserve the Federation. To strengthen beyond harm."

"Put them on main viewer," Riker said with unnatural calm.

The screen came to life, revealing a man Picard's age. He was slightly heavier, giving him a stocky appearance. His thinning hair was shot with white. He wore a salt and pepper Van Dyke beard. His features were hard and set.

"Captain...Picard?" the man said, his eyes narrowing as he focused on his viewer image. "I am Captain Johann Guttman."

"I am Will Riker, the First Officer of the Enterprise," Riker informed him.

"Where is Picard?" Guttman asked suspiciously.

"Captain Picard is at Starfleet Command attending to pressing matters," Riker replied. "May I ask why you and your fellow captain violated the warp prohibitions in place around this planet?"

Guttman stiffened even further. Riker thought the man might implode. "My fellow officers an I are in pursuit of a dangerous foe to the Federation," he snarled.

"And that authorises you to kill an innocent freighter crew?" Riker asked with steel in his voice.

Guttman's face coloured with rage. "We are going to apprehend these fugitives, Commander." He spat out Riker's rank. "Be advised that any...any...interference will be met with deadly force."

"I have been so advised," Riker informed him defiantly. "I'm sure you'll recognise my decision when I reach it."

Guttman stifled a curse as he killed the comm link between vessels.

"Surrender your vessel now!" Captain Sarah MacKenzie demanded.

Lisea gazed back at her dispassionately. "Very well. We will lower shields and allow your boarding parties aboard. We will lower shields in five minutes. Agreed?"

MacKenzie looked dubious, but slowly nodded. Danan wondered what sort of discipline MacKenzie would be in for after destroying a civilian merchant ship. She knew the punishment she would like to dispense. She smiled to herself, she may yet have that opportunity.

"Very well," Danan said. "You may begin boarding as soon as we drop shields."

The viewer went blank and Danan turned to Derrico. "Have all life pods launch in four and half minutes."

"Yes, sir," Derrico replied, tasting retribution in the air. He savoured the taste of it.

"The Resolute is powering weapons," Data reported. "The Fortitude is lowering shields, but weapons are coming on-line."

"Raise our shields and power weapons," Riker ordered.

"Are all pods ready?" Danan asked.

"Yes, sir!" Derrico replied.

Danan tapped her comm badge. "Tarrik, lock on to all personnel on the bridge and yourself. Transport on my command." She took a look around the bridge. "Computer, initiate Alamo protocol." Her mouth twisted into a bitterly ironic smile. "Authorisation phrase is, 'Resistance is futile'."

"Auto-destruct sequence engaged," the computer reported.

"One minute silent count-down," she ordered.

"This shall be the last warning. Self-destruct in one minute."

Danan turned to Derrico. "Lower shields." She tapped her comm badge. "Initiate transport."

Derrico, T'Kir, Grace, and Danan took one last look around as they disappeared in a shimmer.

"The Fortitude is transporting personnel to the Odyssey," Data called out.

"What is the Perseverance doing?"

"She is locking phasers," Data said apprehensively. "...On us."

"Hail Guttman," Riker growled.

"Sir!" Perim called out excitedly. "The Odyssey is jettisoning her escape pods."

"What do you mean no one is aboard?" Ran snapped at MacKenzie via comm link.

"They've abandoned ship," she reported nervously. "Their escape pods are all headed for Earth."

Ran's eyes met Picard's. "Destroy them."

Picard flinched as MacKenzie sputtered, "Sir?"

"Destroy them, Captain," he commanded, his voice venomous.

"Aye, sir," she replied wearily.

Ran turned to Voos. "Has anyone tracked down Macen?"

Voos shook her head, but never took her eyes of her prisoners.

"Damn!" Ran muttered.

"Captain," Data reported urgently. "The Fortitude is locking phasers on to escape pods!"

"See if you can move to intercept," Riker told Perim.

The Odyssey exploded in a quiet orgasm of destruction. Her charges sent large pieces of shrapnel sailing into the Fortitude. Her navigational deflectors nearly collapsed under the strain of being assaulted with so much wreckage. Most of her main systems were knocked off-line as she convulsed in the Odyssey's death throes.

"Captain Guttman," Riker said calmly into viewer. "You have the chance to end this."

Guttman scoffed. "Trust me. I will."

"No one else has to die here," Riker protested.

Guttman nodded sadly. "Yes, they do. The past must be swept away to make room for the future." He cut transmission.

"What the hell does that mean?" Riker muttered.

The Fortitude brought her shields up. The bridge was filled with smoke as MacKenzie stabilised her crew. She'd lost two dozen officers on that boarding party. She vowed they'd not die unavenged.

"Lock phasers on the life pods closest to Earth," she ordered robotically.

"Are you certain?" her First Officer asked.

"There has to be a reckoning," Mackenzie replied without feeling.

"The Fortitude has just fired on three life pods," Data reported. "Destruction was complete."

"Lock phasers on the Fortitude," Riker snapped off. "Fire on my command."

"The Enterprise, the Perseverance, and the Fortitude are all engaged in combat!" a tech shouted.

"Are you satisfied?" Picard asked scornfully.

"Not yet," Ran replied honestly. "When Macen is dead, I'll feel much better."

"And if he's already dead?" Picard asked.

"Then we are just being thorough," Ran replied as if discussing the death of a fly.

"Shields are down to sixty percent," the Ensign at Tactical announced.

"Fire quantum torpedoes." Riker ordered. "Perim, get us out of orbit and give us some manoeuvring room."

"Aye, sir," she replied as she acted upon the order.

The ship shuddered as she took more fire. They were facing a Miranda-class and an Akira-class. Separately, neither vessel was as powerful as the Sovereign-class Enterprise. Together, however, even the seventy-year-old design of the Miranda proved threatening.

Riker was about to order the ship to break for beyond lunar range at full impulse when the Fortitude ceased her attack. Her shields were crackling with radiation as she shrugged off enemy fire. The smaller Perseverance continued her harrying fire. Riker was trying to figure out what happened to the newer, more capable Fortitude when he could see explosions puncturing her saucer section.

A small ship slipped past the reeling Fortitude. Phaser blasts streaked past it as it cartwheeled in space. The ship was headed for Luna when it turned end-over end and returned down its previous course. It opened fire on the Fortitude.

Steady phaser blasts gave the ship away. It was a Blackbird-class starship. It was a Starfleet scoutship from the early 24th century. It was a sleek ship resembling a hybrid between a Nebula-class and an Ambassador-class. It was tiny, almost the same size as a Defiant-class. Riker didn't know where this one came from, but he was grateful for its assistance.

"Data, which ship is that?" he asked.

Data activated his sensors and queried the ship's ID markers. The reply made him raise his eyebrows. He turned to face his commander with a look of confusion and surprise.

"It is the S.S. Odyssey, sir."