Star Trek - TNG - 08 - The captain's Honor

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by David


  Worf stood behind Picard on the bridge

  now, watching the image of the Centurion

  floating in space.

  "Captain, we have a message from the

  Centurion."

  "On-screen, Lieutenant."

  The ship disappeared, and its place was taken

  by a burly, aggressive-looking man wearing a

  cloak over a gold-colored uniform, with

  commander's rank on his collar.

  "Captain Picard, I am Commander

  Claudius Marcellus Caecus,

  Centurion chief of security and acting

  captain. I demand to know what has happened

  to Captain Sejanus."

  How typical of Sejanus,

  Picard thought sadly, that his security chief

  should be so high in the chain of command.

  "Commander Caecus, I regret to inform you that

  your captain has been placed into custody."

  Caecus' eyes went wide. "On what

  charges? And by whose authority?"

  "He has broken countless Starfleet

  regulations, not the least of which is the Prime

  Directive," Picard said flatly. "We

  will keep him on board the Enterprise until

  such time as we can release him into Starfleet

  custody at Starbase 16. Furthermore,

  if I have anything to say about it, Commander, and I

  shall"--he rose from his command chair, his powerful

  voice ringing out across the bridge--"he will be

  court-martialed!"

  Caecus' image abruptly disappeared,

  to be replaced by a starfield, with the

  Centurion floating before them. As they

  watched, the smaller ship's impulse engines

  glowed, and she accelerated away from them.

  "Should I follow them, sir?" Wesley

  asked from the helm.

  Picard shook his head. "No, Mr.

  Crusher, not now. But track them."

  Wesley tapped some controls, then shrugged.

  "They've disappeared around Tena ra, sir. And the

  satellites aren't tracking them."

  "Very clever," Picard said, steepling his

  fingers. "The Centurion doesn't register

  on the satellites' sensors, so we have no

  idea where they are or what they're doing. How

  did they manage that, I wonder."

  Almost simultaneously, Data and

  Wesley turned around and said, "The subspace

  transtator wavelengths can be--"

  Picard held up his hand. "A technical

  explanation can wait, gentlemen. What's

  really important is how long they've been

  doing that, and what they've been doing in the

  meantime. Worf, have Captain Sejanus

  brought to the bridge."

  Several things then happened

  simultaneously.

  The Centurion appeared suddenly from behind the

  Tenaran moon, her phasers glowing with contained

  energy. Without pause or warning, she opened

  fire.

  The Enterprise was totally unprepared, but

  Starfleet designers had made the

  starship well. The low-level navigational

  shields, which protected the great ship from space

  debris, absorbed some of the energy. The

  immensely fast ship's computer should have done the

  rest. It calculated in a picosecond the

  direction of fire, how much power would be needed

  to counteract it, and how much would inevitably get

  through. Normally that would have been sufficient

  safeguard to prevent damage. However,

  Appius Cornelius' men had done their work

  well, and there had simply not been time enough for the

  engineers under Geordi La Forge's command

  to find all of the Magna Romans'

  sabotage. Despite the automatic

  signal from the Enterprise computer, very little

  extra energy was fed to the shields at the

  impact point.

  The Centurion's shot had been aimed at

  the juncture between the main saucer section and the

  warp drive section, resulting in a minimum

  of casualties, but totally disrupting power

  throughout the entire ship for a little over five

  seconds.

  Which was all the time Sejanus, down in the

  brig, needed.

  The Centurion's captain had always been

  quick to take advantage of fortunate

  accidents. As quick as thought, his powerful legs

  pushed hard against the wall and sent him flying out

  into the corridor.

  The lights and security force field came

  on just as Sejanus cleared the doorway to his

  cell. He felt a tingling in his feet and

  looked down to see that the soles of his boots were

  smoking. It had been a near thing.

  He rolled to his feet. No guards had

  been posted. Foolish.

  He ran down the corridor, and as he

  ran, he slapped the control plates on the

  outside of the other cells holding prisoners from

  the Centurion, releasing them. There was a

  good-sized pack following him by the time he was

  done.

  Sejanus gathered them together. "Is this

  everyone?" he asked.

  One of the Magna Roman engineers spoke

  up. "All of us except for Appius

  Cornelius, sir. They took him to sick

  bay."

  "Most unfortunate," Sejanus

  said brusquely. Appius was--had been--

  one of his better operatives. A pity that he

  had to be left behind, but Sejanus had never

  wasted time on vain regret. "Follow me,"

  he ordered.

  Together they sprinted for the transporter room.

  "Sir!" Data said sharply. "My

  displays show transporters being activated!"

  "Cut power to the transporter room, Mr.

  Data!" Picard ordered immediately.

  Data's fingers flew over his console--but

  even as he worked, the android was shaking his head.

  "It is too late, sir. A full load

  was beamed over to the Centurion."

  "Sejanus," Picard said. He cursed

  himself for not posting guards outside the brig.

  "I am detecting an energy buildup from the

  Centurion, sir," Data added.

  "Centurion firing photon torpedoes,

  sir!" Worf said.

  "Evasive action!" Picard cried,

  bracing himself. The whole structure of the ship

  shook slightly as the powerful engines kicked in

  full force.

  But the torpedoes had not been intended

  to damage the Enterprise. They detonated

  several hundred kilometers in front of the

  great ship, momentarily filling the main viewer

  with a brilliant burst of blue-white light.

  When the explosion faded, the Centurion was

  gone.

  "Can you follow them, Mr. Crusher?"

  Wesley shook his head. "They left at

  maximum warp, sir. There's no way to tell

  where they are now."

  Picard nodded; he had expected no other

  answer.

  "Lieutenant Worf, prepare messages

  for Starfleet Command and the Senate of Magna

  Roma, informing them of the Centurion's

  disappearance and Captain Sejanus' plans."

  He stood. "Mr. Data, you have the conn."

  Picard headed for the turbolift and his c
abin

  --and some much-needed rest.

  Epilogue

  Several hours later, Worf went off

  duty, having finished transmitting the last of

  Captain Picard's messages to Starfleet

  Command. Coded, of course--regulation

  procedure in a situation where hostiles could be

  monitoring communications.

  When he returned to his quarters, he found

  a message waiting for him from Jenny de

  Luz.

  He first thought of calling in Deanna

  Troi. But Jenny was his subordinate, his

  responsibility. He had recommended her

  for the duty on Tenara that had led to her

  involvement with Gaius Aldus in the first

  place. "Computer," he said, "get me

  Ensign Jenny de Luz."

  "Ensign de Luz is on Holodeck

  Three," the computer answered. "You are now in

  contact."

  "Jenny, this is Lieutenant Worf."

  "I have something to ask you, Lieutenant."

  Her voice was strong and purposeful, not at

  all what he expected. "Could you meet me

  here on the holodeck?"

  Worf nodded. "I'm on my way."

  When he reached Holodeck Three, there was

  no sign of Jenny, and he realized she must be

  waiting inside for him. He entered to find himself

  in the middle of a simulation.

  Before him was a flat plain stretching to a

  distant horizon. The tip of the rising sun

  showed over the horizon, growing slowly in the

  overcast sky. To his left was a heavy forest,

  and to his right was a hill, its top crowned by a

  massive building. Ringing the hill was a

  camp, with men strolling about or standing in clumps

  talking. Every now and then, some of them would look

  up at the building on the hilltop and then

  resume their conversations. Jenny stood a short

  distance in front of him, watching his reactions.

  "Welcome to Meramar, Lieutenant," she

  said. "I've spent the last couple of hours

  getting the details right. What do you think of

  it?"

  "A harsh environment," Worf said.

  "Very harsh. That's where I grew up."

  Jenny pointed at the hilltop. "Castle de

  Luz, which makes it sound a lot

  grander than it really was. And that"--she pointed

  at the encampment--"is the army of my father's

  cousin, Domin Hame de Luz, which is laying

  siege to the castle."

  "Siege!" Worf exclaimed. "In this

  day and age? With modern weapons, that's a

  meaningless word."

  Jenny shook her head. "Not if all the

  parties agree to limit themselves to the weapons of the

  first settlers brought here by the Preservers. This

  siege happened when I was three years old.

  It was finally settled by single combat between my father

  and his cousin. My father won. I can still remember

  his wounds. And the head of his cousin decorating the

  great dining hall for a few days. Fortunately

  it was winter."

  "Barbaric."

  Jenny grinned suddenly. "Remind you of

  another world?"

  Worf said stiffly, "Klingons were not

  barbarians. They reacted to a grim

  environment with a grim social code in order

  to survive. And then in the end they outgrew even

  that code and joined the Federation."

  "Yes. Exactly the same thing happened

  on Meramar. My ancestors evolved a

  grim code too, to survive. They joined the

  Federation, but the social code has scarcely

  changed."

  Worf felt off-balance. "Ensign, you're

  not there anymore. This is a simulation.

  Problems aren't settled here on the

  Enterprise by means of single combat."

  Jenny nodded soberly. "I know that, sir.

  But I'm a product of this world. It's part of

  me. I came here to try to understand something about

  myself. The battle between my father and his cousin is

  about to begin. Right now, my father is up there in his

  castle, in the chapel, dedicating his weapons and

  his soul to Servado and praying for victory.

  It's an ancient ceremony. And this time

  I'll be able to watch the whole thing with a lot more

  understanding than when I was three years old."

  A shout arose from the camp at the base of the

  hill, and suddenly the camp came alive, men

  running toward a central point. Jenny

  smiled, her face transformed by eagerness. "Do

  you hear that, Lieutenant? It's about to begin.

  My father is about to come down the hillside and

  settle the old feud."

  "You said you had something to ask me, Ensign.

  I have no interest in watching two men try

  to kill each other." He turned to go.

  "Computer," Jenny called out, "freeze

  simulation."

  The shouts from the camp stopped abruptly.

  Worf turned back to Jenny. "Well?"

  "First I have to correct you, Lieutenant,"

  Jenny said, as if she were discussing a

  completely neutral topic. "It's not two

  men trying to kill each other it's two men

  trying, and one succeeding." She took a deep

  breath. "I want you to put me on special

  assignment. I want to find Captain

  Sejanus."

  Worf shook his head slowly. Despite the

  abrupt change of subject, he was not

  surprised. "So you can kill him?"

  "So I can bring him back to stand trial for the

  murder of Gaius Aldus!" Jenny shouted.

  Worf shook his head. "How will you bring

  Sejanus to justice? He has disappeared--and

  it is a very large galaxy, Ensign."

  "I'll find him," Jenny said simply.

  "I'll find him."

  "Indeed," Worf said. "Then I wish you

  luck. But why did you call me here?"

  "I thought you might want to help."

  "I do," Worf said. "But my duty is

  here aboard this starship, Ensign. Not chasing

  vengeance across the galaxy."

  "I ..." Jenny said, and then she broke,

  began sobbing.

  There was nothing in t he manual about how to cover

  this situation, so Worf acted instinctively.

  He growled, and reluctantly allowed Jenny

  to lean on him as she cried.

  "I'm glad you could come," Will Riker said.

  He reached out with his good arm, taking Gretna's

  hand and helping her down off the transporter

  platform.

  "Will," she said, looking at him in shock.

  "Your arm--"

  "Is fine," he assured her. "It'll be

  good as new in another day or two. Now, come

  on--and I'll show you how Marcus tricked

  you."

  He led her down the corridor and into the

  turbolift.

  "Deck Four," he said. The car began

  moving.

  "So," he began, turning to Gretna and

  smiling, "how do you like the Enterprise?"

  "It seems wonderful. I'm very excited

  to be here, especially if what you told me about

  this ..." She faltered, looking for the word.

  "Holodeck," Riker supplied.

 
"... holodeck is true."

  "It may sound like a miracle, but I

  assure you, it's quite real."

  "I'm afraid I still don't understand how they

  got the doubles to sound and behave just like real people."

  "They're not doubles. The holodeck is run

  by a sophisticated computer program, which they--

  Marcus and Sejanus--simply told what

  to do."

  The turbolift doors opened, and Riker

  led Gretna down the corridor to the

  holodeck entrance.

  "Now," Riker said, "what you'll first see

  is a completely empty room--but whatever you

  want to make real in there, you can. Anything is

  possible in this room. Anything."

  Riker touched the control panel, and the door

  slid open--revealing Lieutenant Worf

  holding Jenny de Luz in his arms.

  Riker smothered a laugh.

  "Excuse me, Ensign, Commander," Worf

  said, detaching himself from Jenny. He strode

  determinedly past them into the corridor beyond.

  Jenny was just a few seconds behind him,

  looking just as uncomfortable. "Commander, ma'am."

  And she was gone as well, the holodeck

  door sliding shut behind her.

  "I think we interrupted something," Riker

  said.

  "I think so too. Will, what is this

  place?"

  "I don't know, but it's beautiful."

  "It's like we're on another world,"

  Gretna said, turning to take in the entire

  holodeck illusion. "And you could make

  images of people as well?"

  Riker nodded.

  "My father and Captain Picard?"

  "I could," Riker said gently. "Would you like

  me to?"

  "No," she said quickly, then lowered her

  gaze. "Will, I feel like such a

  fool. I should have talked to you before about what

  Marcus said, not been so quick to believe him."

  He shook his head. "It doesn't matter

  now."

  "But it does," Gretna said. "Can you

  forgive me?"

  Riker smiled. "Well ... anything is

  possible," he said, taking her in his arms.

  "Especially in here."

  There was still too much to understand.

  Jean-Luc Picard, scholar, scientist,

  diplomat, and sometime soldier, drummed his

  fingers on the table-top in his quarters as he

  tried to comprehend it all.

  The M'dok had at last responded

  to Federation overtures--Picard felt confident

  their murderous raids would soon end. The

  Magna Roman government was itself in the midst

  of a massive shake-up, sparked by these latest

  revelations about the Volcinii gens. And

 

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