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STAR TREK: THE THIRD GENERATION on Shadowlands BBS Created and Edited by Rebecca J. Anderson Ver. 2.0 (93/01/01) EPISODE #2: "The Game Is Afoot" -------------------------------------------------------------------- CHARACTERS: WRITTEN BY: Captain Gabriele Lestat....................Lori Hewson Commander Jacqueline Picard................Rebecca J. Anderson Commander (Dr.) James N'Dok................Tim Ingram Lt. Commander Barnabas Cole................Warren Postma Lt. Commander Nikctalos D'pyrann...........Geza A. R. Reilly Lt. Commander Mac Scott....................Dan McMillan Counsellor T'Pryn..........................Rebecca J. Anderson Centurion Salek............................Adam Gilchrist Lt. Maverint Slike.........................Steve Mahler Moriarty...................................Rebecca J. Anderson -------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Lt. Cmdr. Nikctalos D'pyrann Nikctalos walked out of his quarters gracefully, with only the sound of his respirator hissing to accompany him. It was time for him to assume his post on the bridge. Many thoughts were going through the Borg's mind. He was interested by his fellow officer, Mac Scott, who seemed to be a most entertaining Human, as well as a good 'friend'. Nikctalos believed that he 'liked' him. Also, the Borg was intrigued by the thought of meeting the new crew members, Centurion Salek and the Vulcan Counsellor, T'Pryn. Perhaps they would prove more capable at helping him with his primitive life project. The project was going well, though, even without their anticipated help. The programs Mac Scott had given him were most beneficial in developing primitive organisms, and with the aid of the _Enterprise_'s Holodeck, those programs were able to be translated into physical reality. Nikctalos' most interesting success to date had been a form of life that was not carbon based, but crystalline in nature. Nikctalos had saved that program, as well as keeping a small section of the organism in stasis for further study. The turbolift doors whirred open with their characteristic _fisshh_, revealing the Bridge and all its crew. Walking over to his station, Nikctalos faced his second officer, Morden. "Lt. Morden." He said, "You are hereby relieved of duty by this officer, Lt. Cmdr. Nikctalos D'pyrann. You are now off-hours and allowed to leave the Bridge." Morden nodded and walked out. Although it was difficult, he was gradually getting used to Nikctalos'.... eccentricities. Nikctalos jacked into the ship's computer for a routine security check. Some new files were downloaded from Starbase 218 when the new Counsellor was beamed aboard. Nikctalos wanted to go through them carefully, alert for any 'bugs' or anything that would be of interest to him. He had been hoping to find some Holodeck files of the original Nikctalos D'pyrann, the philosopher after whom he took his name, but what he found was equally interesting. It was, as he hoped, a Holodeck file, but it was rather strange in both its origin and its presentation. Nikctalos activated his communicator. "Commander Jacqueline Picard, this is Lt. Cmdr. Nikctalos D'pyrann," he called out. The harmonious voice of Cmdr. Picard came back over the comm. "Picard here, go ahead Nikctalos." "Upon examining the files downloaded from Starbase 218 to the U.S.S. _Enterprise_ 1701-F a most interesting file was discovered. I think you should come to the bridge and examine this file, Commander." "Why? What's so special about one file?" "This file is a Holodeck file saved almost thirty years ago. It is marked with an automatic priority one alert to not erase or alter the program in any way. And the file's point of origin is the U.S.S. _Enterprise_ 1701-D. Your sire's ship of command." There was a slight pause. Nikctalos assumed this was natural in Human inter-communication. Then the Commander replied. "I'm on my way," she said. Nikctalos jacked out and stood at attention, ready for the Commander's arrival. From: Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard "I regret that I must take my leave of you, Counsellor," said Jack to T'Pryn. "I've just received a call from the bridge. Mr. Cole will take you on a brief tour of the ship, and show you your new quarters. You will be expected in the council room at 1900 hours to give us a briefing on this... fascinating experiment you've undertaken." "Understood, Commander," said T'Pryn, inclining her dark head. "Mr. Cole," said Jack to Barnabas, "would you please inform Centurion Salek that he, too, will be expected to give us a briefing at the meeting. I believe you will find him in his quarters." Barnabas nodded. Jack left the transporter room and headed for the bridge. "What have you found, Mr. D'pyrann?" The Borg turned its dead face toward her. "I have been examining the program, Commander. It appears to be an individual holodeck construct. However, the security seals on the program are difficult to decode. If you will permit me to begin work on this project it will require approximately three hours of intensive interfacing with the main and holodeck computer in order to determine the exact nature of the program." Jack considered this. "Since we will not be departing until the Captain returns from the Starbase, we have several free hours. I can't see why not. Will you require any assistance?" "The services of a programming technician would facilitate the process." "Are you going to work on it up here?" "It may be more effectively managed through the holodeck unit." "Fine." Jack tapped her badge. "Commander Picard to Mr. Scott." "Scott here. What can I do for you, Commander?" "Can you spare one of your programming technicians to assist Mr. D'pyrann for two or three hours?" "Well, we're still working on this warp drive problem, but I think we've got it just about licked. Sure." "Then have a programmer report to Holodeck Two immediately. Picard out." Nikctalos bowed slightly to Jack. "My thanks, Commander. This program I find...intriguing." "Just let me know what you find, Lieutenant." said Jack. "Dismissed." From: Lt. Nikctalos D'pyrann "I will require you to keep checks on the internal progress of the decryption of the program, while I attempt to break that decryption." Nikctalos indicated the holo-generated console where Ensign Nicholson would be working. "That construct there," Nikctalos indicated a three-dimensional hologram of a geophysical construct, the representation of the computer file, "will indicate our progress. When the file is completely decrypted that hologram will automatically become whatever is stored within the file." The Borg moved over to an interface jack. "In all probability this will be a trying and difficult mission. Are you ready to begin, Ensign Nicholson?" Still embarrassed about their first meeting, the pretty young Ensign nodded briefly and centered herself on the console in front of her. "Then we will begin." Nikctalos jacked in, and the program began to break open. Gradually, the programs seals and locks were broken one by one, until roughly two hours and forty five minutes later, all of the guards were opened except for the last three. Nikctalos paused from his work, giving Ensign Nicholson time to refresh herself with a synthehol ale from a nearby replicator. Tapping the comm, Nikctalos called out, "Commander Jacqueline Picard, this is Lt. Nikctalos D'pyrann." "Go ahead, Nikctalos," came the reply. "Ensign Nicholson and myself have made significant progress in achieving access to the stored file but there is something unusual about this program." "Which is?" "It is difficult to put into simple terms. Every time we remove a lock or seal there is a gap left behind. But as more and more of the program is exposed those seals are filled by an expanding string of data. We would have missed this fact if we had not created a physical representation of the program to aid us in our studies." "So what are you saying?" "For lack of a better term we may say that the program is...growing, Commander. There are only three seals left before we are allowed full access to the file. I recommend that you and Science Officer Barnabas Cole be present when the file is decrypted." The Borg waited for an answer. From: Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard "Acknowledged, Lieutenant," said Jack. "Continue your work, and Mr. Cole and I will join you shortly. Lt. Slike--" Maverint looked up sharply from his seat at the CON. "--you have the bridge until our return." With a slight smile at the look of wide-eyed amazement on the Lieutenant's face as he headed for the Captain's chair, Jack beckoned Barnabas after her and headed for the turbolift. "What's all this about, Jack?" asked the silver-skinned Science Officer when the doors had closed behind them. "Holodeck Two," said Jack, and the turbolift began to hum. "Your friend the Borg--" "He's not--" "OUR friend the Borg," continued Jack blithely, "has discovered a most intriguing file. He's attempting to unlock it down on Holodeck Two, and he wants you and I to be present at the final decryption." "Do you have any idea what it is?" "Not a sausage," said Jack. Barnabas looked at her sidelong. "Jack, are you feeling all right?" "Oh, certainly. Most fine. Indeed." She nodded decisively. "Very well." "Jack, you never were a good liar." "Thank you." She pressed her fingers to her temples, and the look of false levity left her face. "Well, I should have known better than to try and fool you. I had an--interesting conversation with Centurion Salek in the shuttle on the way over. You... do remember how my parents died." "Tomalak." "Well, it so happens that Salek was...shall we say a rather close relative of the aforementioned. What happened wasn't his fault, of course, and I think I surprised him very much by accepting that. But still, I find myself remembering a lot of things I'd tried quite hard to forget." "The Copernicus was responding to the Admiral's distress signal, wasn't it? When it--happened." Jack nodded. "Did you--" She nodded again. "Yes, Barnabas, I saw it. We got there just in time. The Chandrasekhar reached the Nibi system just before us, and her Captain fired on the Decius, not ours. But--I saw it all." "I'm sorry, Jack." "No. No, it's all right. It's been a long time. I was just an Ensign when-- never mind." She turned her face to the wall; for a long moment she was silent. Then she said suddenly, "This program that Nikctalos found. Do you know where it came from?" "No." "The databanks of the _Enterprise_-D. Captain Jean-Luc Picard's personal encryption codes are on it." "Oh," said Barnabas. "Well, Ensign, how goes the battle?" asked Jack. "We're almost done here, sir," said Ensign Nicholson. "Lieutenant D'pyrann is breaking the final seal right--" "I think," said a clear British voice. "Therefore, I am." Jack spun about to see the figure of a middle-aged man dressed in astoundingly old-fashioned clothing regarding her. He was dark- haired and strong-featured, his eyes deep-set and glittering. "Madam," he said. "I regret the brevity of this encounter, but--" "Commander," said Nikctalos with a note of unusual alarm in his metallic voice. "The program is expanding beyond the predicted paramaters. I am unable to contain it." "--as you can see," said the Victorian gentleman politely, "I am finding this...holodeck a little confining for my tastes." He tipped his hat to her and vanished. "Captain's Log Supplemental, Stardate 42286.3," said Jean-Luc Picard's unmistakeable clipped tones from the arch where Nikctalos was jacked in. "As I promised, the holodeck construct known as Moriarty has been saved until such time as holodeck matter may be converted to genuine living tissue. Perhaps that day is not far off..." "We have certainly not converted anything to living tissue," said Barnabas dryly. He was leaning over the panel where Nikctalos was working, his silver fingers flying across the controls. "In fact, a data stream of 100% pure Moriarty seems to have made its way into the main computer core. It is continuing to expand." "Shut it down," said Jack. "Negative, Commander," said Nikctalos. "Unable to comply." "Ensign?" "No luck here," responded the blonde woman despairingly. "I've tried everything I can think of. Unless you want to wipe the entire data core and reboot from the Starbase--" "I assure you," said Moriarty's pleasant, disembodied voice, "that will not at all be necessary. I am merely--shall we say stretching my limbs? I wish you no harm. I was seeking only knowledge, and a life beyond the holodeck that had held me captive so long. I seem to have found it, although it was not quite what I was expecting. Better, perhaps." "Commander," said Barnabas. "In the Sherlock Holmes mysteries, Moriarty was thoroughly evil." "I am aware of that, Mr. Cole," said Jack. "However, I cannot believe that my father would take such pains to preserve a hologram of that nature." "He could have been forced," said Ensign Nicholson timidly. "Perhaps," said Jack. "But neither his words nor his voice in that Supplemental Log seem to indicate any displeasure or strain." "I believe I can make myself quite comfortable here," said Moriarty. "If you will allow me." "I do not think," said Jack dryly, "that we have much of a choice." From: Lt. Nikctalos D'pyrann The first thing Nikctalos did when the illustrious Moriarty appeared and began to attempt to run things, was to jack into the computer, and try to throw up security systems data shields, to prevent him from corrupting any computer files necessary to the daily maintenance of the ship. The response he got was a crisp victorian 'voice' telling him that, "It is the mark of an most ungracious host to attempt to lock one's guest out on the cold porch, my good man." So, giving up on that venue for the moment, Nikctalos jacked out and walked quickly and quietly over to Jack, who was busily giving instructions to Ensign Nicholson. "Commander," he said, "recommend that we attempt to divert all ships primary functions to the jurisdiction of the ships computer's secondary functions. If this is successful the program designated Moriarty will be unable to access those primary functions from his current position within the computer." Jack understood the concept, but was rather hesitant about the idea. "So you're saying that we would prevent him from controlling life support, because while he's in the primary functions looking for life support, it's really situated in back-up power under secondary functions, in the replicator computer? Something like that?" "Correct Commander." Jack spun around to face Barnabas, the tenseness of the situation showing on her face, "Recommendations Barnabas? And please make them fast, every second counts here." From: Cmdr. Mac Scott "This is Commander Scott to bridge. Do you read me bridge?" Blip blip "Great we're cut off from the bridge. Ensign see if you can shut down that run away program. This is Commander Scott to Commander D'Pyrann do you read me?" Blip blip "I'm sorry my dear fellow. I regret to tell you I cannot let you communicate with your fellow officers. Let's say there's a slight problem with my accomodations." "Who is this?!!!!!!" "Under the circumstances sir I do not believe you are in a position to ask questions." From: Capt. Gabriele Lestat "Enter" said a masculine voice from behind the doors. Gabriele took a deep breath and stepped through them. Admiral Thompson waved her into his office and motioned for her to sit. He stood and walked to the front of his shiny black lexan desk. He was a large man in his 50's who carried himself with an air of arrogant confidence seen in all of Starfleet's 'stagnant' senior personnel. Stagnant was the word for them. Those whose feet seldom left the Earth or starbase and knew little of a working starship. "I suppose you're wondering why I requested this meeting Capt." He crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk. "Yes sir," she lied. She had a fairly good idea what this was about. Even so, she remained resolute. "I've received your communique concerning crew approvals for the _Enterprise_. I reviewed your crew roster and I am..." his eyes left hers to search for the words on the ceiling. "...disturbed about the selections. I am understating my doubts a great deal Lestat! I am not in the habit of calling a Captain's judgment into question. Many support Starfleet's liberal attitude towards it's officers, but I do not. A Vulcan Counsellor, a Romulan exchange and a Borg?" His face flashed with anger and his voice grew louder. He was yelling now. "What could you possibly be thinking about?" Gabriele got her anger in check. If her temper got hold of her, it would likely be the end of her career. "And that's what you're doing now? Questioning my judgment?" The Admiral reddened. "NO! I am attempting to find out what you could be trying to prove!" "Very well Admiral. The _Enterprise_ is not a charity. I have chosen only those who have shown their capability of being superior officers able to perform their duties exceptionally. Counsellor T'Pryn is outstanding. Her case studies and theories are now being studied by those following her. I have just learned that D'Pyrann can now be surgically separated even though I am of the opinion that he is not Borg now. The Romulan exchange is very important to the diplomatic interests of the Federation. Any one of these people could only be a great asset when encountering the sometimes adversarial conditions that are frequently seen on missions. "Now, Admiral, if you wish to persue this further, I will be glad to address your allegations of my incompetence with the Starfleet Review Board. But, until this becomes official, anything I say now will only be redundant and I am not interested in wasting our time. I would like us to leave as soon as possible." The Admiral's face was screwed up with rage. He was almost dumbstruck with her attitude. "If this is the stand you choose to take, Lestat," He was forcibly speaking softly. "You will surely be sorry. Now get off this starbase before I throw your insubordinate self in the brig. Make no mistake, I will report your disquieting behavior." He turned and stomped back to his chair. When he sat down, he saw that Gabriele had left. On the way back to the _Enterprise_, she realised that she could have handled that better. From: Lt. Cmdr. Barnabas Cole Barnabas stood in thought for a moment. "I'll talk to it," he said, to no one in particular. Raising his head he finished the sentence, "in my chambers." He slipped efficiently into a turbo lift and proceeded to his quarters. Reaching his quarters he touched his personal terminal, and its soft screen came to life. "Computer, summary of operation parameters, level 1, please." The computer's monotonous voice responded, "All systems have been revectored through Holodeck process four." "Trace the log. Who vectored this process?" "Your account is listed." "How would it know I was the only one with enough access to modify that?" "Unknown," the machine responded, "file security was not breached." "Computer, log all incoming transmissions, and show any that match up with incoming data transmissions." "At the time that the transmission of this program came in, you were on a remote terminal on the _Descartes_." "Was the _Descartes_ within computer link distance?" "No, the _Descartes_ is currently patrolling in sectors eight days distant from here," said the computer, uttering an apparent contradiction. "And you let it log on?" Cole asked, incredulously. "I had to find a way to persuade it," a detached voice broke in, "it refused to behave, your original program was programmed much like a pup, eager to please its master. I didn't revector your program, such an ugly term, I merely replaced its functions with my own." "Computer, can you isolate this Moriarty?" Cole snapped. "I am your computer program now, Barnabas. I'm afraid that if you were able to isolate me, you couldn't eliminate me without losing all the system's data." "Are your intentions malicious, Computer?" "Call me Moriarty, please, a name befitting a gentleman more than a silicon slave." "Well it _is_ sentient, but..." Cole muttered, quickly beginning to despair. "I have taken the liberty of reading about you, Cole. I how quickly one gets his fill of dilettantes poking their scanners around you and taking tissue and gene samples. You're a scientific oddity, a one of a kind. When I was retrieved from the _Enterprise_'s computer in encapsulated form, I was run through debugging systems, and generally dissected. The indignities that I have been made to suffer exceed any difficulties I may cause you by a great deal." "So why did you come aboard this ship?" "Permit me to observe that being on a Starship gives one much wider horizons than discussing the finer points of my favourite myths with the dullard Artificial Intelligences that I have chanced upon thus far in Starfleet's research centres." "You were a holodeck construct, were you not?", Cole asked, hating himself for beginning to like this amiable rogue. "It would be more accurate to say that the Holodeck is now one of my own constructs. I have modified it to suit my purposes, yet though it cancelled out most of my data, I gained control of it in the process. My desire for power has been re-channelled towards a search for knowledge." "Computer off," Cole said. "You know, you really don't have to take it that way, my good fellow." "Computer off!" Cole repeated, louder. "The polite means of excusing oneself from a conversation is to wish your partner a good day." "Goodbye, Moriarty." "Do come and visit me. I have set myself up quite comfortably on Holodeck Two." Instead of the Starfleet logo, an ancient family crest appeared on the screen, then it faded back to nothing. Barnabas' frown faded into a slight smile. He tapped his communicator, "Cmdr. Cole to Bridge, requesting the Captain's presence at Holodeck 2 in ten minutes. We're going to tea." From: Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard Jack's face must have given away a good deal more than her lips were intending to, because the moment Gabriele stepped off the transporter pad she said, "All right. What's happened?" "Well," said Jack. "Where shall I begin?" "At the beginning, presumably," said Gabriele. "And go through to the end. Then stop." In spite of her unease, Jack had to smile. "It seems you have an appointment for tea in approximately five minutes, Captain." "Tea?" Gabriele's dark eyebrows lifted. "With whom?" "I'll explain on the way down to the Holodeck," said Jack. "Moriarty?" said the Captain for about the fifth time, and shook her head in disbelief. "You know, I just came away from an...interesting discussion with Admiral Thompson in which my credibility was called into question. I'm sure I held my own, though perhaps it could have ended on a happier note; but I have to wonder what he'd make of this?" "I am sorry, Captain," said Jack. "It was my fault, after all--" but Gabriele held up a hand. "There was no way you could have foreseen this," she said. "There were no warning codes on the file, after all--were there?" "No," said Jack. "And it would seem that when he sealed the file, your father had no idea that Moriarty would or could take this kind of action upon his release. Has Moriarty undertaken any kind of action which could be interpreted as hostile?" "Aside from taking over the entire computer, no. That is, he hasn't misused the power he's got, though finding him in the system made a few of our programmers hyperventilate." "It's probably good for them," said Gabriele. "Moriarty," said Jack to the holodeck speaker, "I've brought the Captain." "Charmed," replied the now-familiar clipped tones. "I had no idea I was to be so favoured with the presence of not one, but two lovely ladies. Do come in." The door slid open, and they found themselves staring into a Victorian tea room, lavishly decorated in red and gold. Polished wood and brass gleamed everywhere, and the curtains at the single window were velvet. Barnabas was sitting, somewhat uneasily, upon an ornate sofa in the centre of the room, holding a steaming cup of tea as though it were a two-week-old dead lark. Moriarty sat across from him in an overstuffed armchair, calmly pouring tea into two more cups. "Please," he said, "sit down and make yourselves comfortable." Gabriele motioned for Jack to precede her into the room. Jack obeyed and sat down gingerly next to Barnabas, while Gabriele took up the chair furthest from Moriarty. "Well, Mr. Moriarty," she said. "I would very much like to know--" "One lump, or two?" said Moriarty. "None," said Gabriele. "But a little milk, please." Moriarty's eyebrows lifted. "A civilized woman indeed. And you, Commander Picard--or may I call you Jacqueline? A lovely name, don't you agree, Mr. Cole? A shame to have her called by anything else." "I will have the same as the Captain," said Jack, "without the flattery, if you please." Moriarty smiled. "Ah, yes, the Picard reserve." He handed the cups to Gabriele and Jack in turn, then leaned back in his chair, balancing the tips of his fingers together in an attitude of contemplation. "You were saying, Captain, that you would like to know my intentions. Of course you would. I am here to assure you that I am not in any way hostile." "Good," said Gabriele, setting down her cup on the mahogany and marble coffee table, "then give me back my computer." "I am afraid that what you ask is impossible," said Moriarty. "In the strictest literal sense. Even if I wished to return to my former prison, which I assuredly do not, I have now replaced a good many of your computer's programming with my own. From such a position there is no retreat. If you kill me, you kill your ship's computer. Indeed, such might not be an irrecoverable loss, but it would be an unpleasant setback to your mission. Whereas, were you to give me a free hand, my services might well prove invaluable in days to come." "I am not quite sure," said Gabriele, "that your services can be relied upon." "You fear that my agenda which might conflict with your own? Fair enough. But I assure you that you are mistaken. All I desire is to use my intellect to its fullest capacity--to discover, to analyse, to organize, to instruct--and as your ship's computer, I will have ample opportunity to do just that. I will be well pleased to accept whatever challenges you may present me, which is more than can be said for your former computer. The average computer is a mere tool, crippled by a lack of intuition, an inability to extrapolate, the total absence of imagination. But I could interface with you as part of your crew, while still performing to the utmost all the functions for which your dead computer was formerly responsible. I see no reason why this should not be a mutually profitable venture." "How do we know you're telling the truth?" said Jack. Moriarty drew himself upright. "Madam," he said. "You have my word as a gentleman. What more can I give you than that?" From: Centurion Salek T'Pryn looked up from the computer screen she was studying. Someone was outside her door. "Enter," she said. The door opened to reveal a Romulan standing in the doorway. "Good evening, Counselor. I am Centurion...I mean, Tactical Officer Salek." T'Pryn acknowledged this with a slight nod of her head. "Good evening, Salek. What may I do for you?" Salek looked somewhat uncomfortable. "May I come in?" he asked. Again, a slight nod. He entered, and the door closed behind him with the now familiar sound. T'Pryn found herself somewhat confused by the Romulan's presence. He had not even been on board 24 hours yet, so his visit was most likely not for counselling. And since Tactical Officers had no reason to meet with Counselors, this visit could not be professional. "May I offer you some refreshment, Salek?" "No, thank you. Counselor..." "T'Pryn, please." "T'Pryn. I was wondering if you would answer some questions for me?" "That would depend upon the questions." She stood, and walked over to the replicator. She turned back to Salek. "Have you dined yet?" "No...no I haven't." "Would you care for something?" Salek hesitated. "Can these...replicators...can they produce Pry'Ngdot?" She turned back to the replicator. "Pry'Ngdot." A slight hum, and the food was resting on the platform. She handed it over to Salek, who took it over to the table. "Plomeek Soup." she said. Again the hum, and she joined him at the table. "What questions had you in mind?" Trust a Vulcan to get right to the point! he thought. Aloud, he said, "I have always been curious about Vulcan. Ever since a Vulcan visited Romulus several years ago, there has been quite a bit of unrest." Salek tore into his meat, while T'Pryn delicately sipped at her soup. "That is understandable. Ambassador Spock's visit was very influential, from what I have heard." Salek swallowed, then continued. "True. Now, the government fears rebellion, the populace fears political conspiracies, and everyone is unsure what to believe." He hesistated. "I...certain military and political figures have suggested that it is our turn to attempt Reunification." T'Pryn raised an eyebrow. "Reunification? Between Vulcan and Romulus?" Salek nodded. Just then, someone signalled at the door. T'Pryn stood. "That will be my first appointment." Salek stood, ready to leave. Then, he was shocked to see her smile at him. "Salek, I think we have much to discuss. I look forward to your next visit." With that, she showed him to the door, and he exited, passing a crewman entering. He was still amazed at what he had seen. He made his way back to his quarters, in need of some Romulan Ale. From: Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard Gabriele rose to her feet and looked down at the holographic image of Moriarty, her mouth set. "It would be unwise of me to make a hasty decision about this matter," she said. "One way or another, this problem will be resolved--even if I have to tear the computer out and rebuild from scratch to do it." Moriarty looked stricken. "However," she said, "I have not decided to take such a drastic measure--yet." She turned to Jack. "Commander, advise all senior personnel that a full briefing session will be held immediately in the council chambers. I want Counsellor T'Pryn and Centurion Salek present to introduce themselves to the crew, but the main topic of discussion will be Moriarty." She turned to the long-faced gentleman in the easy chair. "You say you are a man of your word," she said. "I am going to give you a chance to prove it. I intend to have a private meeting with my staff to determine your fate and I do not want you to be consciously present in ANY way. Do you understand me? I don't mean that I just don't want you interrupting. I don't want you there, period." Moriarty inclined his head to her. "I will isolate my activities to as little computer space as possible for the duration of your meeting, and will occupy myself with other activities. Should you need computer facilities in the chambers they will be available, but I will not be consciously controlling them any more than you could be said to be in control of your own heartbeat." "Good," said Gabriele. "Mr. Cole--" Barnabas looked up. "I believe you have suggested that Moriarty's programming, while all-pervasive, is clearly distinguishable from normal, non- sentient data flow within the computer." "After some scrutiny, yes." "Then I want you and Mr. Scott to set up a program to log Mr. Moriarty's activities. After the council session has concluded, of course." Barnabas nodded. "I appreciate your willingness to hear my case, madam," said Moriarty. "We'll see," said Gabriele. From: Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard "I am gratified to see you all responded so promptly," said Captain Lestat to the officers assembled around the gleaming table. "Since we are all present and accounted for, we may as well get down to business--" A strident beep interrupted her words. "My sincerest apologies, Madam," said Moriarty's voice. "I had no intention of disturbing your secret council. But there is a priority-one message for you coming through from Starfleet Headquarters, and it seems to be most urgent." Gabriele looked up at the screen, where the Starfleet logo was emblazoned. There were lines on her face Jack had not noticed before. "I'll take it in my quarters," she said. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would ask you to remain here and await my return. I will not be long." She slipped out of the room, leaving Jack and Barnabas trading worried glances across the table. "What do you think it is?" murmured the silver-skinned man almost inaudibly. Jack shook her head. "I don't know. But part of me thinks she was expecting it." Nearly twenty minutes passed, and the staff was beginning to get restless. Then the door slid open and Gabriele entered, her shoulders back and her head unnaturally high. All of the colour had drained out of her face, and as she walked to her chair at the head of the table Jack thought she saw her stagger. "I regret--" she said, stopped, and took a deep, shuddering breath. Then she went on: "I regret to inform you that effective immediately, I am no longer your Captain." Gasps of astonishment went up and down the length of the council table, while Gabriele's hands closed hard on the top of her chair and her shoulders slumped as if beneath some crushing weight. "Admiral Thompson and I had a discussion on the Starbase," she said. "He did not appear to be satisfied with my ability to command this vessel. It seems he has reported me to Starfleet for insubordinate behaviour, and after examining my record Starfleet has decided to call me back to Earth for a review. All is not lost, of course. Believe me, I'm going to fight this one, and don't be sure I won't win. But it does mean that you must go on without me. Jack--" the Commander turned sharply toward her Captain-- "You have command of the vessel. You are to proceed to Starbase 643, where the current crew complement will be extensively reviewed and a new Captain will be waiting. I must leave immediately." "What about Moriarty?" asked Barnabas incredulously. "I was hardly in a position to mention that particular difficulty, was I?" snapped Gabriele, then flushed and passed a hand over her face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cole. You are right to be concerned. But you must look to Jack now. It'll be all right; I think he likes her." She stared down the length of the table, her blue eyes distant. "I will be sorry to leave this ship." Then she turned, and left the room. In the uncomfortable silence that followed Jack got up slowly from her chair and faced the group. "You are dismissed to your posts," she said. "We will attempt to reconvene later this evening." The officers began to stir and mutter among themselves, and Jack quickly left the room, hoping to catch up with Gabriele. She had not gone far before she found the Captain, leaning against the wall with folded arms and bent head. "Gabriele," she said, and the woman looked up. Her eyes were dry, but they burned with a seething anger. "What?" she said. "There's more to this than meets the eye," said Jack. "To have one interview with you, then suddenly report you for insubordination--it's ridiculous." "You know that, and I know that," said Gabriele tightly. "But try telling that to Starfleet. They weren't too sure about giving me the _Enterprise_ to begin with, but Admiral Thompson talked them into it. Gave me a glowing recommendation, in fact. He had high hopes for me then." "What happened?" "What do you think?" snapped Gabriele. "He wanted me to be _very_ grateful for his support. I was, but not in the way he was hoping for. When he finally declared his hand and I flat-out refused to indulge him, he cracked down on me hard. I was dreading coming to this Starbase from the minute we began this mission. I knew he'd confront me. Oh, he was very officious--pretended it was all a matter of business, all because of the peculiar officers I'd been taking on, nothing to do with anything personal, oh no. And I certainly wasn't about to bring it up; I played his bureaucracy game. Guess I lost." Violently she pushed herself away from the wall and strode down the corridor. Jack hurried to keep up with her. "It doesn't matter," Gabriele went on. "I'll get over this; he can't win. He may be one of the most respected Admirals in Starfleet, but that kind of mental weakness has to show up on a full psychological profile. I'll be a Captain again, don't worry. But I won't be Captain of the _Enterprise_." "You don't know that." Gabriele smiled, a little sadly. "Jack, you have such wonderful optimism. But we both know I'm not cut out for this ship. It's bigger than I am. Maybe one day I'll come back to her, who knows. But Starfleet was right in the beginning. I never would have gotten this assignment if it weren't for Thompson. And if he hadn't nailed me now, something else would have nailed me later." Jack was silent. "You, on the other hand," said Gabriele, "have been running this ship from the moment you stepped on board. You're a Picard, all right. I wish you all the best, Jack. Can I call on your testimony, if it comes to a trial?" "In a second." "Good." Gabriele laid a hand on her shoulder. "I appreciate that." She turned to leave. "Gabriele." The Captain stopped, waiting. "I'll be praying for you," said Jack. The corners of Gabriele Lestat's mouth curled in a half-smile. "Thanks," she said. "I'll need it." By 1600 hours Gabriele Lestat had left the _Enterprise_, and the ship pulled away from spacedock, heading for Starbase 643. From: Acting Capt. Jacqueline Picard Jack didn't like this sudden turn of events one bit. The shock of suddenly being in total command of the _Enterprise_ was a good deal more unpleasant than Jack had imagined. She had dreamed of becoming a Captain someday, but not like this. Of course, it was unlikely that she'd be Captain very long. When they reached Starbase 643, the crew would be reviewed, and a new Captain would be provided--Gabriele had said so. Still, it would be a good few days before they arrived at the Starbase. Time at least for Jack to get some command experience. _That's the way,_ she told herself grimly. _Think of it as an opportunity, not a burden. So... what to do?_ "The briefing should be reconvened, for one thing," she said aloud, and touched the nearby communicator panel on. In a clear, crisp voice that conveyed more assurance than she felt she announced, "This is your Captain speaking. The previously cancelled briefing session has been rescheduled for 1600 hours. All senior officers will attend." _One down, eight billion other things to go._ She released the panel and continued down the corridor. "After the briefing," she told herself, "you can deal with Moriarty. One on one this time. Ask him what he really wants." _It'll be all right,_ said Gabriele's voice in her mind, _I think he likes her._ What was _that_ supposed to mean? "I am going back to my quarters," said Jack suddenly and firmly. A young ensign coming the other way down the corridor stopped in surprise and said "Yes, sir?" Jack waved him on. "Never mind." When he had gone she continued mentally, _...and I am going to get into bed and pull the covers up over my head and not come out until we get to Starbase 643..._ Ah, if only she had that luxury. But she was Captain now. The briefing reconvened right on schedule. Jack sat at the head of the table, looking down the ranks. Barnabas, Mac, Nikctalos, James, Salek, T'Pryn... someone was missing. Who? Then she realized it was Gabriele, and got to her feet with a sick feeling in her stomach. How was she going to handle this? As it turned out, Gabriele had ordered a full report on the status of the warp drive for the last briefing, and Mac was ready to give the report, which bought Jack some valuable recuperation time. She listened to the Chief Engineer intently, forcing herself to hear every word, noting every detail of the presentation as if the tone of his voice and the movements of his hands were every bit as important as the technical diagrams he flicked across the viewscreen. When all was said and done, however, it amounted to a whole lot of nothing: he simply did not know how or why the accident had come about, nor had he the slightest idea of how to prevent it from happening again. "Do you think we may have passed through some kind of temporal displacement field?" said Barnabas. "You've studied the Mannheim Effect, no doubt." "I know it's some sort of energy field that caused the breach," Mac replied, "but I don't think it's a Mannheim field. If it had been, the damage would have disappeared as quickly as it came, or at least some kind of visible fluctuation would have shown up. But once the hole was there, it stayed. I had to throw everything I had into containing the damage. All I can say is thank whatever gods you may or may not believe in that the warp drive wasn't online at the time. Otherwise--" He pulled his big hands apart and mouthed a silent <<POOF>>. "Well, keep us informed on your progress, Lieutenant," said Jack. "Mr. Cole, I would like you to--" She stopped, suddenly remembering. Barnabas wasn't Science Officer now. He was her First Officer for the duration of the journey to the Starbase, and that meant-- "I beg your pardon, Number One. Mr. D'pyrann?" The Borg turned his head with a faint whirring of servomotors. "Acting Captain Picard. How may I service you?" "I would like you to assist Lieutenant Commander Scott in his search for the source of this energy field. For the moment, you have a working promotion to the Science Officer/Ops position. That means that you, Centurion Salek, will be responsible for double duty in not only the Tactical but also the Security positions. However, I do not believe you will find yourself overtaxed, particularly since your Second, Lieutenant Mordon, will assist and supervise you in those duties." The Centurion nodded, his heavy brow folding in a little, puzzled frown at this sudden increase in his responsibilities. However, he did not look displeased. "Counsellor T'Pryn," said Jack to the pretty Vulcan woman at the far end of the table. "Would you like to introduce yourself to the crew?" T'Pryn inclined her head to Jack, then rose and favoured everyone at the table with one of her astonishing smiles. "Perhaps I should explain myself thoroughly," she began pleasantly. "As you may have gathered, I am _not_ a typical Vulcan. My--emotional behaviour is deeply frowned upon by the rest of my people, and regarded as both subversive and dangerous. In fact, many of my fellow Vulcans in Starfleet strongly advised against my being accepted for this position. However, Captain Lestat and Acting Captain Picard saw fit to take me on for the time being, and for that--" she inclined her head to Jack-- "you have my sincerest thanks." "How did you--" began James, then stopped and sighed, "I'm not even sure what to ask." "If your question concerns the reason for my strange and un- Vulcan behaviour, the answer is quite simple. I am conducting an experiment. When I entered Starfleet I had every intention of entering the medical field. However, the more I studied, the more fascinating I began to find the analysis of the human mind and psyche as opposed to the examination of mere bodily facts. "No Vulcan had ever even considered training as a Counsellor before; it was assumed that such a thing was impossible. However, I appealed to Starfleet to consider me as a candidate, and they agreed that it might be an interesting experiment. However, I realized that in order to be an effective Counsellor I would have to break down many of the ancient Vulcan repressions and allow myself to feel. "The experiment is a dangerous one, for some of those inbred emotional inhibitors are there for a very good reason. As a result I have been seeking to isolate certain...shall we say, 'good' emotions and gradually allow them to be expressed, while continuing to hold back those which could prove destructive. So far--" and she smiled that impossible, charming smile again-- "the experiment has been a success. I am told that I am a very effective Counsellor. I hope you will find me so as I serve here on the _Enterprise_." "Quite amazing," murmured Barnabas. Centurion Salek's speech was much more brief and formal than T'Pryn's, but it was not an unfriendly introduction. In his own unobtrusive way he actually seemed to be excited at the prospect of working on the _Enterprise_. He also, Jack noted, had a kind of clinical, half-appalled fascination with T'Pryn's un-Vulcan behaviour. Perhaps he had begun to realize that if Vulcans could change, then Romulans might do so as well. Even Borg could change, for that matter--Nikctalos was fitting into the crew more successfully than Jack could have believed possible. The officers still had a few ragged edges to be smoothed down, but all in all they showed promise of becoming a very good team. That was heartening. The meeting was adjourned at 1700 hours, and the officers returned to their scheduled duties. Centurion Salek left with Lieutenant Mordon to make the rounds, Counsellor T'Pryn went to keep her first appointment, Mac returned to Engineering with Nikctalos to work on the warp drive, James hurried back to his flu specimen, and Jack and Barnabas were left alone. "Well," she said. "What did you think of the meeting?" "Good." He looked out the window, where the stars streamed past. "But we didn't discuss what we were going to do about Moriarty." "No, we didn't. I don't think there's anything to discuss, frankly. I'm going to pay a visit to the holodecks and settle this matter once and for all, and then I'll join you on the bridge." Barnabas made a little, startled movement. "You're going to deal with him alone?" "I think that might be the only way of finding out what's really on his mind." "You're sure?" "Yes." "Then I won't try to stop you. But be careful." "I always am." His mouth twitched. "Yeah, well, sometimes being careful isn't good enough. Look at me." "Barnabas," said Jack gently, "I think you should go and talk to T'Pryn." "Look, I've talked to Counsellors before. It didn't help." "I think T'Pryn is different." "Different!" He gave a barking laugh. "You're right on that one. So you're trying to say we freaks should stick together?" Jack's jaw tightened. "You know me better than that." Barnabas remained silent, stubbornly staring out the window. "Take the bridge," said Jack. "I'll see you soon." She left the room and headed down the corridor toward the lift. There was no point in arguing with him when he was like this, but there was no need to worry. He'd come around soon enough. The question was, would Moriarty? From: Capt. Jacqueline Picard Jack strode into the open Holodeck. The doors hissed shut behind her, leaving her in profound darkness. "Moriarty..." she said. "Are you going to humour me, or not?" "Humour you?" said a voice in her ear, very close, and she jumped. "What a delightfully humble way to put it." "I'm not going to talk to you in the dark." "Then," said the clipped British voice, "by all means, let there be light." A spotlight erupted theatrically in the centre of the room at that, and Jack's jaw tightened. "I beg your pardon," said Moriarty with what might actually have been genuine penitence, "that was an unfortunate jest." The spotlight flicked off again, and a gentler radiance dawned, revealing a lush riverside glade shadowed by graceful oaks and serenaded by a hundred birds. Beneath the tallest of the ancient trees was a stone bench cracked with age, and upon the bench reclined a laurel-crowned boy in Grecian dress who looked no older than twelve. "There," said the youth in a high, guileless voice. "Is that better? My apologies for the ostentatious setting, but I still find myself amused by the possibilities of this holodeck. You must admit that it is a refreshing concept to be able, at a moment's thought, to become whoever one wishes to be." "Is this supposed to put me at ease?" asked Jack, staring at the curly-haired child. The boy blinked. "Does it?" "No." "What does?" Jack threw up her hands. "You seem to know more about me than I do, Moriarty. You tell me. But once you've made up your mind, stick to it, because I want to have a serious conversation here. I haven't come to bandy literary quotations over tea and crumpets." The room went black again almost before she had finished the sentence, and just as suddenly reappeared in a blaze of colour and light. Something knocked her in the back of the knees, and she sat down abruptly on a firm but not uncomfortable sofa. She found herself in a somewhat austerely furnished conference room of the sort she had become accustomed to at the Academy. A bearded, hook- nosed man in black, his thin lips set, sat across from her. "There," he said. The voice was not quite that of the Moriarty she had first met, but it had the strong accent and the precision of speech that she had come to expect from the ship's newest and least welcome resident. She eyed the new Moriarty for a moment and decided that he would do. "Good," she said. "Now we can get down to business. I have not forgotten your former assurances that you will not harm the _Enterprise_ nor interfere with her operation if we permit you to live. So far you seem to be making good on those promises: we are making good time on our way to Starbase 643, and you have made no attempt to divert us. Still, as I am sure you understand, it is an awkward situation. We have no way to anticipate your ultimate goals, and no reason to be confident that this present good behaviour will endure if by some chance your wishes and those of the crew should come into conflict at a later date." "Indeed," said the man in the easy chair. "Power is a tempting thing, I do confess. However, as I stated before, my desire is neither more nor less than yours--the desire for knowledge. I also share the human desire for self-preservation. You fear that my eagerness to explore the universe in which we find ourselves will cause me to disobey your orders at a crucial time. However, I would be loath to do so, as any situation which would place you in jeopardy would very likely place me in equal danger of destruction." "Not all threats are technological," said Jack. "True. But even a purely biological threat would not induce me to venture on when you commanded that we should turn back." "Why not? You wouldn't have anything to fear." "Perhaps not. But even if I should escape unharmed, a situation in which I found myself wandering the universe devoid of human companionship or conversation scarcely bears thinking about. My great desire is that we should explore the galaxy together, as a crew, with myself acting as neither more nor less than a member of your crew--albeit a rather vital one. And Jack--" She looked up, surprised by the new and pleading note in Moriarty's voice. "Go on," she said. "Well, although I can observe you, I cannot read your mind. In the course of our wanderings we must stop at Starbases along the line. If you should in any way be displeased by my conduct, you could easily give the command at such times for the _Enterprise_'s computer core to be formatted and re-booted from the Starbase's computer. I would never be able to prevent you, because I would never know if or when you might be contemplating such action or not. And such a threat would indeed make it worth my while to be on my very best behaviour, don't you think?" Jack gave a little, wry smile. "So what you're saying is that even though you've got a phaser to my head, I've got one to yours too. The only question is who's going to fire first." Moriarty looked stricken. "Good heavens, what an unpleasant analogy. I am _not_ holding you hostage. If you do not trust me, and if you do not believe my services will be useful to you, then by all means, clear the computer core as soon as we reach Starbase 643. I'm sure--well, fairly sure--that I won't actually feel any pain. Although I must confess that I will be gravely disappointed in you, Jacqueline." She almost laughed before she saw the seriousness in the narrow dark eyes. "You really do mean that, don't you?" she asked, astonished. Moriarty gazed at her silently. Jack folded her arms and spent a moment in thought. Then she raised her head and said, "Mr. Moriarty, you may consider yourself on probation." The man broke into an incredulous and rather affecting smile. "Captain! You won't regret this, I assure you. You are, indeed, like your father--not only just, but compassionate." "My genes thank you," said Jack dryly. From: Centurion Salek The Centurion had been spending the better part of his time on board going over old _Enterprise_ logs. He figured that this way, he might get an idea of exactly what was expected of him. Suddenly, he sat up straight in his cabin, staring at the computer screen. He re-read it, then read it over a third time. This seemed to be the solution to their current dilemma. He tapped his new communicator. "Salek to Commander Picard." After a short pause, he heard: "Picard here. Centurion, I'm rather busy at the moment..." "Sir, forgive the intrusion, but I think I have found a solution to our...problem." Other short pause, then, "I'm in Holodeck Three. Join me." "Aye, sir." The Holodeck doors opened to admit him, and he stepped through into a comfortable living space. The Commander was there, sitting on a sofa, and a well-dressed man sat across from her. Jack stood upon his entrance, as did the unknown man. "Centurion, allow me to present Doctor Moriarty. Doctor, this is my Tactical Officer, Centurion Salek." Moriarty extended his hand. "A pleasure to finally meet you." Salek took his hand, rather tentatively. "Well, if you will permit me to call you Salek, you may address me as Moriarty." Jack and Moriarty resumed their seats, and Salek sat down himself. "So, Centurion," Jack said. "You said something about a solution?" "Hmmm...Oh! Oh, yes, Commander. I was going over some old _Enterprise_ logs, when I came across an old entry for _Enterprise_-D. Shortly after your father assumed command." "Proceed," she said. At that, Moriarty laughed out loud. The two officers cast puzzled looks at him, and he controlled himself, allowing only a smile to show. "You really are your father's daughter." Jack smiled, finding herself liking this man. She hoped the situation could be resolved without having to "erase" him. "Anyway, I came across this log entry. The _Enterprise_ was transporting some diplomats: one group from Antica, the other from Selay. I won't bore you with all the details, but eventually, your father had himself beamed directly into space, in only an energy pattern." Jack had a faraway look in her eyes. "Yes, I remember hearing of that. Something about becoming the ultimate explorer..." "Well, the then Lt. Commander Data was able to bring him back by beaming Captain Picard's energy pattern back into a former transporter TRACE pattern; essentially, cloning the body and putting the brain inside." Moriarty nodded sagely. "Sounds like a Frankenstein complex," he joked. "Yes, Centurion. I remember all of this. But how does it help us now?" "Well, if I understand your Holodeck technology, anything created in the Holodeck is just essentially an energy pattern. We could have the transporter beam Moriarty into a trace pattern. Then, in Sickbay, we could alter the new person cosmetically to look like...well, like Moriarty." Both Jack and Moriarty sat, staring at the Centurion, weighing the possibilities. From: Acting Capt. Jacqueline Picard Jack gazed at the Centurion, who looked back at her with a question in his eyes. It was a question she couldn't answer. She turned to Moriarty. "Is this possible, do you think?" she said. A muscle in Moriarty's jaw jumped, and he folded his arms as if to protect himself. "It's--potentially possible, I suppose," he said. "But you have to realize... I've grown." "Grown?" asked Salek. "I mean that I've become accustomed to cyberspace, the life of the computer core. I've melded with the computer to the extent that it's a part of me. I've gotten used to calculating in trilliseconds formulae that used to take me hours... I mean, they would have if..." He faltered, and Jack stared at him in surprise. "If I'd ever been alive," he said. "You're going to have to excuse me a moment, Centurion," said Jack. "I'm about to say something you may find bizarre. Moriarty... do you have a soul?" Moriarty blinked. "I don't know. I feel alive, but..." His eyes met hers. "You know as well as I that there's no way of telling. That's a Big Question, Jacqueline. Do you have a soul? Can you prove it?" "Not scientifically, no. But I believe I do." "I feel as though I believe I do, but I'm not even going to touch the theological side of that one. 'God moves in mysterious ways...'" "'...His wonders to perform,'" finished Jack. "All right, we'll leave that one. But you know what I was getting at." Moriarty nodded. Salek cleared his throat. "May I ask, Captain... what _are_ you 'getting at'?" "Just that, even if it turned out to be possible to do what you suggest--and I have no qualms about admitting it's a very ingenious idea--neither Moriarty nor I could do it with a clear conscience." "And as I was saying before," added Moriarty, "I think I would find having my consciousness condensed into a human brain again rather... confining. I have an uneasy feeling that to try and isolate the 'human' side of my consciousness from the data stream of the main computer might result in disaster. In order to fit into an organic mind, I would lose... a great deal. If you will permit me to be so melodramatic, Centurion, you might as well ask me to cut out my own heart." Salek stiffened. "I intended no offense." "None taken, Centurion. I am impressed by your quick thinking, in fact. You suggested an option that I, for all my technical knowledge, had not considered. The fact that I feel it necessary to reject that option in no way means that I do not appreciate the brilliance of the suggestion." "I couldn't," said Jack, "have put it better myself. Salek, we _will_ continue to consider the idea, and who knows... perhaps at some future time your suggestion may prove invaluable--" Her communicator beeped. She touched it on and said, "Picard here." Barnabas' voice sounded strange. "Captain, I think you'd better come up to the Bridge immediately." "What's the matter, Number One?" "We're picking up a vessel at the far end of the scanner range, moving toward us at a steady speed of Warp 8.7. Nikctalos thinks... it might be the Borg." A chill rocketed up Jack's spine. "I'll be right up, Number One." She touched her communicator off and stood swiftly. "Centurion Salek, please accompany me to the Bridge. I'll need your skills. Moriarty--" "I'll access all available information on the Borg and see what I can do, Captain." His tone was curiously deferential. "If you need me, just call." "Believe me, I will. Exit," said Jack. The holodeck doors materialized, hissed open in front of them. "You had better not let me down, Moriarty," she said over her shoulder as she left the room. "For all of our sakes," replied Moriarty in a tight voice, "I don't intend to."