Chapter Text
USS Enterprise - Federation Task Force Peacekeeper - Ba’ku System - The Briar Patch (Klach D'Kel Brakt)
The briefing had grown to include Picard, Sandhurst, Riker, Lar’ragos, and Troi, as well as Captain T’Agdi of the late starship Bellerophon and thus had been moved to the observation lounge.
Picard listened intently to Sandhurst recount the events that had occurred since Gibraltar had entered the Ba’ku system some five days earlier. The pitched battle for control of the system, as well as Ramirez’s planet-side encounter with the Bajora-Tava figured prominently in his report.
As he spoke, Sandhurst had to focus to keep his attention on his narrative. Part of his mind reeled at the improbability of his briefing the legendary captain. Picard was the man who had overcome the Borg on two separate occasions, a man credited for nearly two dozen First Contacts and the person responsible for continuing the legendary exploits of successive starships Enterprise.
Sandhurst concluded the tale, having downplayed his own personal actions while emphasizing the role his crew had played in their hard-won victory.
Picard was silent for a moment as he digested the tale in its entirety. “You and your people have overcome substantial odds to secure this system, Captain. You are to be congratulated for your resourcefulness and fortitude.” Picard shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with his next statement, “However, I have grave concerns over some of your actions and those of your senior staff. Your threats to beam the Alshain into space, for instance, and Ramirez’s taking the Bajoran captain hostage. These decisions strike me as being incompatible with your Starfleet training and oaths. Then there’s the matter of the cloaking device…”
Sandhurst nodded somberly as he replied, “I share your concerns, Captain. These measures were not taken lightly, or without forethought to the eventual consequences. To be frank, we did what we had to in order to survive and overcome our opponents. By all rights, we should be dead…” Sandhurst gestured out the viewport to where the comparatively diminutive Gibraltar held station, “…and yet here we are.”
“So, the ends justify the means then, sir?” Riker asked pointedly.
"That's rich coming from the guys in the Sovereign-class ship," Lar'ragos offered from his seat farther down the table.
Sandhurst silenced Lar'ragos with a look and turned to engage Riker, his expression earnest. “Under these circumstances, I believe they did, Commander.” He focused his attention back on Picard and continued, “It wasn’t only our lives on the line here, but those of the Ba’ku survivors, as well as the entire task force, should the Alshain have gotten a hold of the tactical data in our computers.”
“Convenient excuse,” Riker muttered. Picard gestured for his exec to let it drop, but not before Riker’s outburst had goaded a response from Lar’ragos.
“And I suppose ambushing Alshain convoys and repair craft is perfectly acceptable though,” the El-Aurian remarked dryly.
“This is war, Lieutenant,” Riker shot back.
“I agree, Commander,” Lar’ragos rebutted. "So, it's a bit disingenuous of you to damn us for bending the rules in order to survive a shooting war that you started."
Sandhurst gave his security chief a withering glare. “Pava, knock it off.”
Picard sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose absently. “You see my dilemma then, Captain. I can’t very well castigate you for your actions, when my own have been equally questionable, to say the least.”
“Captain, I hardly think they’re comparab—“ Picard silenced Riker with a dismissive wave.
“Our own activities in the past week have been every bit as damning, Number One.”
Captain T’Agdi addressed the group and offered, “Respectfully, we can sit here wringing our hands for eternity, and it isn’t going to either undo what’s been done or get us any closer to accomplishing our mission.” Her whiskers twitched with irritation.
“Agreed,” Picard murmured, sounding a note of finality.
“Sirs,” Troi interjected, speaking for the first time since the meeting started. “It’s obvious that our current predicament has sparked powerful emotions in all of us.” She scanned the assembled officers, her eyes once again lingering a second longer on Lar’ragos. “There will be time enough later to face our cumulative demons, but for the moment we need to consider our position. We are tactically vulnerable here, and Alshain forces are on the hunt for us.”
At Deanna’s prompting, Picard brought himself back to the task at hand. “Well said, Counselor.” He referenced a padd on the table in front of him and noted, “The task force is currently holding some four-hundred Alshain prisoners, in addition to over a thousand refugees. Is there room enough on this island holding center you’ve established for the Alshain detainees?”
“I wouldn’t see why not, Captain,” Sandhurst replied. “So long as your people can assist us in expanding the number of shelters and in providing additional emergency rations, they should be just fine until the next Alshain patrol enters the system.”
“What’s our next target of opportunity?” T’Agdi asked.
Sandhurst looked surprised as he glanced from one captain to the other. “You’re not prepared to leave the Briar Patch? I’d thought the original mission parameters had been met.”
“We’re not done here,” Picard said grimly, the tenor of forged steel in his voice.
“I’m relieved to hear that, Captain” Sandhurst remarked. “I’d like your permission to track down this Bajoran sect and recover my abducted crewmember.”
Now it was Picard’s turn to look surprised. “Splitting up the task force at this time would be tactically unwise, Captain.”
“I wasn’t referring to any other ships but my own. I was asking permission to take the Gibraltar in search of our officer.”
His expression incredulous, Riker posited, “You think you stand a chance by yourself out there, Captain?”
Sandhurst allowed the commander’s disbelief to wash over him and refused to be baited. “With a cloaking device, I believe our chances are quite good, actually.”
Picard shook his head. “I cannot allow further use of a cloaking device by a Federation vessel. We’d only be compounding the existing treaty abrogation.”
“With our current battle damage, Gibraltar will be more liability than asset for you,” Sandhurst pressed.
Picard fixed him with a wry smile, “Your recent accomplishments here say differently, Captain.”
Sandhurst was unwilling to let it go and persisted. “You’ve nothing to lose and everything to gain by detaching us for this recovery mission. These Bajorans are an unknown variable in an already dangerously complex equation, Captain. My exec’s report indicates we’re dealing with religious extremists, a militaristic cult that’s been out here for half a century sharpening their knives for an impending holy war against Cardassia to free Bajor. There’s no telling how they’ll react to the news that Bajor’s been freed without their help, and what they may do to Commander Pell in order to silence such knowledge.”
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Picard sounded genuinely regretful. “I cannot spare your ship, and leaving the cloak aboard is out of the question.”
Sandhurst steeled himself for the coming unpleasantness. “I am prepared to pursue this course without your consent, Captain Picard.”
Picard stared at him, his expression tinged with disapproval. “Are you making a threat?”
As he sat forward in his chair, Sandhurst’s eyes searched Picard’s and seemed to plead for another more subtle level of understanding. “One might believe I was offering you plausible deniability.”
Troi broke into the tense silence that followed. “Captain Sandhurst, it’s obvious even to someone without empathic abilities that you have strong feelings towards the officer in question.”
He faced the Betazoid counselor and Sandhurst offered a wan smile. “That’s true enough, Deanna. Ojana and I used to be involved romantically, and we’ve only recently renewed our friendship. I freely admit to having personal, as well as professional reasons for wanting to recover her safely.”
Sandhurst turned back to Picard and noted bleakly, “Captain, I’ve been forced to leave people behind before, and it’s something I swore to myself that I’d avoid at all costs in the future.”
A brief flicker of empathy shone in Picard's eyes. "As starship commanders, that is the kind of promise that we are sometimes unable to keep, no matter how much we might wish otherwise."
The Gibraltar captain continued, sounding a confessional note. “I signed on to this mission because I believed in its goals, Captain. I still do. My participation was as much predicated upon my trust in you, in your leadership. I knew however bad it got within the Briar Patch, I could rely on your reputation for diplomacy, for clear thinking in a crisis, and for your fairness. Were our situations reversed, and you found yourself without Riker, Troi, or LaForge, you’d move heaven and earth to see that person safely recovered.” Sandhurst held the older man’s gaze. “I’m asking for that same latitude.”
“And were I to refuse?” Picard asked pointedly.
“I’d rather not visit that eventuality unless absolutely necessary,” Sandhurst replied cautiously.
T’Agdi interceded, her voice carrying the enormous weight of deep personal loss. “Believe me, Sandhurst, I understand your feelings. My entire away team came under attack by the Alshain. Twenty-six souls, including my first officer. I couldn’t go back for them without losing my ship. I wanted to, more than anything.”
Sandhurst glanced towards his Caitian counterpart. “I’m sorry for your loss, Captain, and I certainly don’t mean to minimize the sacrifice made by your brave crew. However, the situations are appreciably different. Your people were involved in a dangerous away mission and volunteered to stay behind… while in my case Commander Pell was forcibly abducted from the bridge of my ship.”
Troi felt competing emotions in Riker, a sneaking admiration vying with irritation. Will felt a kinship with Sandhurst, whose innovative tactics had stolen victory from the jaws of defeat, but he harbored a resentment towards the man for his stubborn refusal to acknowledge Picard’s authority as task force commander. Riker found his voice amidst his warring sentiments, “Throwing away a promising career to search for a needle in a haystack the size of the Briar Patch makes no sense, sir.”
“I’m getting her back.” Sandhurst uttered the words as a statement of fact, an oath. “I’d much rather have your approval, but I’ll go it alone if necessary.”
They had reached an impasse. Picard fell silent as he weighed his options. “This is unacceptable,” Picard fumed after a moment’s consideration. “That we should find ourselves pitted against one another while behind enemy lines is utterly ridiculous.” He turned to look at Sandhurst and the senior captain intoned, “So long as you’re willing to accept the consequences of your actions vis-à-vis the cloaking device, I’ll free Gibraltar to track down your missing crewmember.”
Sandhurst inclined his head, the tension visibly ebbing from his body. “Thank you, Captain.”
Picard shook his head ruefully, “Don’t thank me, Sandhurst. When I’m done with my report from this mission, we’re all likely to end up facing courts-martial.” He addressed Riker and T’Agdi, "The task force will move out from here and set course for the Nedric Strait. En route, we will continue to engage Alshain logistics convoys entering the Briar Patch. With any luck, we’ll arrive in time to join up with whatever follow-on forces Starfleet’s been able to piece together in our absence.”
Riker acknowledged Picard’s plan, then looked askance at Sandhurst. He asked, “What had you planned to do with the Ru’afo and Venska, Captain?”
Sandhurst shrugged in response, “I don’t have sufficient crew to staff either ship for the duration, Commander. Seeing as we’ll be leaving to find Pell, I figured I’d turn them over to the task force.” Sandhurst turned towards the Caitian, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in taking command of a warship with armaments on par with those of a Sovereign-class, Captain?” He quirked an eyebrow at the task force leader as he added, “With your approval, of course, Captain Picard.”
Picard nodded his assent and looked to his exec. “T’Agdi and her people will take Ru’afo. Will, I want you to pick a crew and take command of the Venska.”
T’Agdi purred ever so slightly as she murmured, “Whatever shall I do with all that firepower?”
“Former Subahdar Gallatin of the Son’a is aboard and will be able to assist you and your crew with any technical issues, T’Agdi. I’ve already adapted their command interface to an LCARS analogue for ease-of-use,” Sandhurst added.
Sandhurst glanced at Picard and asked hopefully, “We could use some help with repairs prior to our departure, Captain, if you could spare some of your engineering staff?”
Picard agreed. “I’ll authorize Commander LaForge to coordinate with your engineering department.” He looked around the briefing table and took note of the expectant faces. “I thank you all for your input. I know the coming days will pose many challenges for us, but I’m confident in our ability to adapt and overcome. This mission hasn’t turned out as any of us had hoped, but we’ve succeeded in rescuing over twelve-hundred refugees from multiple worlds within the nebula. I believe we’ve also given the Exarchate pause, and the losses they’ve incurred might help convince them that this offensive is more expensive than they’d anticipated.” He brought the briefing to an end. “Dismissed.”
The various officers rose from their seats and headed for the exits. Only Troi and Picard remained. After Sandhurst and Lar’ragos had departed, Deanna turned to face her captain. “As you may have already guessed, Donald’s recent experiences have made him hyper-protective of his crew. I’d note for the record that his fear of losing Pell was only slightly greater than his fear of earning your disapproval.”
Picard sighed, absently drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “I hope for his sake he finds her… and manages to come out of this with his career intact.”
Troi offered an ironic smile, "At this point, that’s a healthy aspiration for all of us.”
*****
USS Sutherland - Federation Task Force Fulcrum - Tactical Assembly Point Alpha
“Status report,” Shelby instructed as she stepped out of the lift onto the bridge.
Lavelle surrendered the command chair, referencing a padd as he replied, “Malinche and Decker have finished corralling the last of the debris, and Budapest has advised they’ve completed recalibrations to their phasers for drilling.”
“Good,” she said.
“And…” Sam reminded her hesitantly, “Admiral Jellico is holding for you on subspace. Priority One.”
Shelby sighed. “Right.” She pointed towards her office. “Route it to my ready room.”
She took a moment before activating her desk terminal. This wouldn’t be pleasant, but stumbling into the Alshain blockade of the Nedric Strait completely unprepared would have been infinitely less so.
Jellico’s face appeared on-screen as she touched the control. “How can I help you, Admiral?”
As expected, the man was infuriated, “Where the hell are you, Captain? You were projected to arrive at the Briar Patch seven hours ago.”
“I took us on a brief detour, sir,” she replied calmly in the face of his bluster. “We’re on the outskirts of the Deltived system.”
Barely keeping himself in check, Jellico fumed, “I expect you to be where I ordered, when I ordered.”
“Under normal circumstances, sir, I would have been. These are far from normal circumstances, however.” Jellico began to reply heatedly, but she raised a hand and he fell silent. “Admiral, you appointed me to lead this task force. We both know I don’t have nearly enough ships to run the Exarchate’s blockade, especially considering the fact that Intelligence reports they’ve established a mine field to prevent transit of the strait.”
She leaned back slightly in her chair, focusing her most reasonable expression on her superior. “I’m sure you’ll agree that my rushing in there and getting this flotilla shot out from under me isn’t going to help Picard or anyone else.” Her reasons having been stated, she offered an olive branch. “I do have a plan, one that I feel has a high probability of success, sir, if you’re prepared to hear me out.”
He sighed angrily then nodded, “Very well, Captain. Let’s hear it.”
*****
Ministry of War - Central Ministries Complex, Governance Archology - Alshain Proper
The War Cabinet had convened in an emergency session to discuss the quickly deteriorating situation facing the Alshain Starforce in and around the Klach D'Kel Brakt.
War Minister Orthlin C'Oemnm had opened the meeting with a grim report on their losses, first at the hands of the now-defeated Son’a military, as well as the more recent depredations of the meddlesome Federation.
C'Oemnm gestured to several highlighted areas on a slowly rotating holographic image of the nebula as he summed up their current circumstances. “Our attrition rates are thirty-seven percent higher than we originally anticipated when we began our advance into Son’a territory. Most of this has come as a result of losses suffered within the Klach D'Kel Brakt. Until a few hours ago, we’d believed these casualties were due to desperate suicide tactics by the Tarlac and Ellora that were retreating from the last of their pre-prepared defensive positions. However, I’ve just received a report that confirms that many, if not most of these losses can be attributed to the rogue Starfleet squadron operating within the nebula.”
The holo-image shifted to display a horrific sight that prompted sharp intakes of breath from a number of the attendees. The shattered carcasses of a number of Alshain vessels drifted against the ethereal background of the Briar Patch, surrounded by a cloud of debris that spoke of utter chaos and devastation.
Exarch Jedalla, clad in rather mundane business tunic in lieu of the traditionally gaudy robes of the aristocracy, growled with displeasure. He directed his anger towards the admiralty and glowered at Nauarch Yol A’Yaud, the ranking flag officer present. “You’d said this Federation task force was not a threat to our plans. So, what is the explanation, Nauarch? Are you blindly incompetent or merely unbelievably stupid?”
A'Yaud looked formidable in his most auspicious dress uniform, which was adorned by numerous medals and pendants earned by successive generations of his ancestors. Despite his standing, A’Yaud was caught off-guard by the exarch’s harsh scrutiny. The stammering admiral struggled to deflect the onslaught. “Your Eminence, every indication has been that the Starfleet task force was a humanitarian relief mission. Individually, some of the ships could be considered quite formidable, but against the full might of our forces I hardly think…”
“Yes,” Jedalla seethed, “you hardly think. I agree wholeheartedly with that assessment, Nauarch.”
C'Oemnm pressed on, secretly relieved that Jedalla had identified the military as the weak point in this equation… at least so far. “At this present rate of attrition, we will find it especially difficult to hold on to the territory gained in our offensive. Diffused enemy units within the Klach D'Kel Brakt will likely be able to wage a long-term guerilla campaign against our occupational forces, much as the Cardassians are doing now with the Federation and the Klingons. The more craft we lose now, the fewer we’ll have to patrol these nebular backwaters in the coming months.”
Jedalla, his ears twitching in irritation, focused on his war minister. “What of the retaliatory plans we’d drawn up? The ones for sending a strike group into Federation space?”
C'Oemnm pressed a stud on his hand-unit and again changed the holo-display which now showed a formation of Alshain warships deploying a sizeable minefield at the mouth of the nebula’s entrance. “Those plans were put on hold, Eminence, when I was forced to divert the ships assembling for that potential mission to the Nedric Strait. The 5th Squadron, 3rd Fleet reserves are blockading the strait to prevent Starfleet from reinforcing their original task force.”
Jedalla digested this in livid silence before finally speaking. “And if I still wish to hurt the Federation, to make them pay for their interference? Do you think you could manage to find me a handful of ships capable of a one-way trip across the border?”
C’Oemnm looked to Nauarch A’Yaud, who sat forward suddenly as he came face-to-face with the exarch’s impenetrable stare once again. He cleared his throat and the officer said, “What did you have in mind, Sire?”
“How many of those Son’a subspace weapons do we still have?”
A’Yaud’s response was prompt, “Venska was issued four of the weapons, Eminence. We are still in possession of twenty-three devices.”
Jedalla’s lips pulled back in a predatory sneer, exposing the artificially enhanced teeth that intentionally reinforced his alpha-male status. “I want twenty-three of our fastest Starforce vessels readied with one each of those magnificent weapons. Should I find it necessary, I will give the order to dispatch them against the nearest inhabited Federation planets.”
A’Yaud blinked, looking stunned. “Sire, that… that would be an act of war on an unprecedented scale.”
Seemingly unperturbed by the notion, C’Oemnm carried out a series of quick calculations on a padd. He looked up from the results to give the exarch an unabashed look of respect. “Eminence, if my figures are accurate, by striking the closest twenty-three Federation outposts, colonies, and member planets with subspace weapons, the Federation would incur somewhere in the vicinity of one-hundred and sixty million casualties.”
“That is, I believe, more than the total civilian casualty count suffered by the Federation during the Dominion War,” A’Yaud noted, looking suddenly quite haggard.
“They ignored our repeated requests not to interfere in our internal security matters,” Jedalla intoned. “Our demands fell on ears so deaf that they then sent a flotilla of ships to attack us. With this one act, we will be heard. In a single stroke, we can cause the Federation more pain than the cumulative losses of their last two centuries of conflict.”
The vote that the exarch presided over was more formality than anything, a way for the individuals present to accrue greater prestige with their Septs. Nonetheless, it was unanimous.
*****
USS Enterprise - Federation Task Force Peacekeeper - Ba’ku System - The Briar Patch (Klach D'Kel Brakt)
Sandhurst and Lar’ragos approached the transporter room, preparing to return to Gibraltar. “That went better than I expected,” Lar’ragos said.
Still in a dour mood following the tense briefing with Picard, Sandhurst muttered, “That was the easy part. Now we have to locate Pell while staying two steps ahead of the Alshain.”
As they stepped into the transporter room, a broad smile emerged on the captain’s features at the sight of Lt. Commander LaForge manning the control console. A fully equipped engineering team stood by on the transport pad. “Geordi!” Sandhurst approached the man, shaking his hand vigorously. “How’s the best engineer in the Fleet these days?”
LaForge laughed as he replied, “Wait, I thought you always claimed to be the best of the best.”
“I was,” Sandhurst deadpanned, “but then I promoted.”
Lar’ragos moved towards the dais, stepping up to take one of the last open pads as the two old friends got reacquainted. Pava frowned, the idea of old friends suddenly seeming inexplicably relevant to him. Something was amiss, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was as if… someone were looking for him.
The doors out to the corridor opened, and a colorfully clad figure topped by a broad hat stepped across the threshold. LaForge glanced past Sandhurst, wearing a look of mild concern mixed with curiosity. “Guinan, can I help you?”
Her expression characteristically serene, the El-Aurian woman smiled slightly at LaForge. “No, thank you. Everything’s fine, Geordi.” She turned to the transport pad to state matter-of-factly, “There are so very few of us left that it’s generally a cause for celebration when we encounter another of our kind.” She locked eyes with a reticent looking Lar’ragos as she asked, “You weren’t even going to say hello?”
Sandhurst looked from Lar’ragos to the mysterious woman, frowning. “Do you need a minute, Pava?”
Lar’ragos stepped down off the pad and nodded. “Aye, sir. Thank you. I’ll catch up with you, Captain.” With that he followed the woman in the large hat and flowing orange dress out into the passageway.
She led him down the corridor and into a small auxiliary crew lounge, currently empty. As she took a seat at one of the tables, she gestured for Lar’ragos to join her. He sat slowly, as if thinking better of it.
“It’s been a while, Pava.”
He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Almost, what… sixteen years?”
“Sounds about right. Haven’t seen you since we ran into each other on Alcent. I missed you last time you were aboard.”
Lar’ragos looked momentarily confused before finally grasping the reference. “Oh, the interviews. Yes, I believe you were off the ship at the time.”
“Any particular reason you passed on the job?”
He grinned self-consciously. “The crew has a lousy reputation. Statistically speaking, Captain Picard and his people save the entire Federation much less often than they used to.”
She smirked in response. “Funny guy. Nice to see you’ve got a sense of humor now.”
“I didn’t before?”
“You did, but it was… darker.”
He shrugged. “That’s just me, I suppose.”
“I suppose,” she echoed. She spared a quick glance out the viewport before setting her gaze back on him. “I didn’t even know you were aboard; do you know that? I can feel some of the others from over a sector away, and here you are barely sixty meters from me and I haven’t a clue. And don’t even get me started on Troi, you’ve probably got her spinning circles trying to figure out why she can’t read you.”
He frowned and said defensively, “I wasn’t aware I owed anyone an explanation.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
Lar’ragos shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Guinan, what do you want?”
“You avoid us, Pava. Why? There are over two dozen of us living in Federation space, and yet you pass up every opportunity to meet with us.”
He shook his head slowly. “What would the point of that be? Rehash old times, perhaps? Gosh, you remember those Borg fellows, weren’t they strange? Do you see any of the old gang from the Diaspora? I’d heard a bunch of us were caught up in that whole mess on Jehord’Msna… what a tragedy that was.”
Her expression darkened and Guinan’s voice lowered an octave. “You’re going to trot that out now? They were offering us a home, a life. It turned out badly, yes, but I couldn’t have known that. And it isn’t as if you were there with us. I believe you were off playing soldier at the time.”
Lar’ragos touched a hand to his chest, mimicking shock, “What, us? Courtiers to the Yearling Jihad? Root out your enemies for coin and country?" He gave her a hard look. "Tell me, Guinan, what was it like being a two-legged blood hound? Considering that I've been chased by some of the best, you can call this professional curiosity."
She inspected him closely. “Now you’re deliberately trying to provoke me. More than anything you want me to end this conversation and go away. Any particular reason for that, Pava?”
“Maybe I don’t have a lot of things to look back on favorably after four-hundred years, Guinan. Perhaps I don’t want to be reminded of everything that we lost. Maybe I'm depressed by the fact that even here within the Federation we’ll never be able to rebuild our society. How each and every one of us is missing a piece of ourselves, how we’re inexorably intertwined with the damnable Collective and those of our kind still enslaved by them.”
Her face softened as his anguish washed over her. “We all lost somebody to the Borg, Pava. And we lost others along the way. But the fact that some of us made it here says something about our people, our hopes, and our strength.”
Lar'ragos looked disgusted as he stood abruptly. She reached across the table and grasped his forearm. “I know you blame yourself for what happened then, and after, but people in that much pain do horrible things… to themselves and to others.”
“I’m a killer, Guinan” he blurted suddenly. “Ours was a race of philosophers, scientists, and poets, and my noble contribution to that legacy is that I use our talents to kill with ruthless efficiency. My parents would be so very proud.”
She let him go, finding him not so terribly different than he’d been nearly two decades earlier. ‘Go in peace, Pava Lar’ragos’ she prayed. ‘Or whatever passes for peace in your world.’
*****