Danny Amor's Online Library/Danny Amor's Online Library - Volume 1.iso/html/startrek/incomplete/bajorsglory.ch0

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Subject: STORY: Bajor's Glory, Prologue
Date: 14 Feb 1995 11:16:29 -0500
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Bajor's Glory:  A Ro Laren Story

By Steven Tagawa


Prologue:  The Choice


     Ro Laren flew the refitted Talon-class courier with an icy precision
that belied the turmoil
boiling within her.  She knew what she had to do, had made her choice
hours ago.  *But can I
really do it?*  a tiny voice within her cried.  *How can I betray Captain
Picard, after all he's done
for me?*  But Macias was dead, killed by a Cardassian phaser, and the
Captain had ordered her
to betray him--betray all of these people who were only trying to protect
themselves--and help
the monsters who were killing them, trying to drive them from their homes
as they had driven the
Bajora two generations ago.
     And she was leading these people into a trap, to be captured or
killed by the Starfleet that
was supposed to be protecting its citizens from harm.  She'd told the
leaders of her Marquis cell
that the Cardassians were smuggling the components of biogenic weapons
into the Demilitarized
Zone--and that the convoy of Uridian ships they were now approaching
contained the final
ingredients, after which the Cardassians could fabricate those weapons,
weapons capable of
laying to waste whole Federation colonies.  The cell leaders had reacted
just as Starfleet had
expected them to:  they had called in other cells and assembled an attack
force that comprised
most of the Marquis' fighting ability.  *Of course they reacted,* Ro
thought savagely, *were they
supposed to just wait to die?*  Her heart still trembled at the thought of
shattering the Captain's
trust in her--but then she glanced over at Will Riker, whom Picard had
sent along as "insurance"
to make sure she carried out her mission--and she thought that maybe that
trust wasn't as deep
as she'd imagined.
     And foremost in her mind, draping itself like a dark curtain over all
her other thoughts, was the
final, dying image of Macias, kind, gentle Macias who'd loved hasparat and
baked blueberry pies
and, she just knew, could have, would have, loved her like a daughter--if
there'd been time...and
sudden, blind anger swept through her again.  Anger at the Cardassians, at
Admiral N'Cheyev--
even at Captain Picard, who had sent her to do this thing that betrayed
her heritage, her people,
even who she was.  *How could* he *do this to me?*  She remembered his
low, icy voice in the
cantina, calmly telling her that he would have her court-martialed unless
she carried out her
treacherous orders.  It didn't seem quite right, she thought, it didn't
seem quite like *him*--but
that didn't matter anymore.  She tensed inside, watching the Border
approach.  The Captain
would do what he had to do--and so would she.

     [Captain's Log, Supplemental:  We have received word from Commander
Riker and
Lieutenant Ro that the Marquis will be attacking the convoy as planned.
Our ships have taken
up position in the Hughora Nebula to wait for them.]
     Jean-Luc Picard stood at the science station at the rear of the
bridge, following Lieutenant
Commander Data's preparations for the ambush of the Marquis.  Data was
seated at the station,
setting up the final communication links necessary for the operation.  On
the flatscreen display
was a tactical view of nearspace.  Data tapped the pad adeptly, performing
routine maintenance
on the link to the sensor probe Enterprise had left behind.
     *Orders are orders.*  Picard easily projected a calm exterior, the
result of decades of practice
at being the cool officer in charge.  But within, doubts nagged at his
mind.  This whole business
with the Cardassians smacked of political appeasement--and Picard had
studied too much Earth
history not to know that policies of appeasement always failed in the end.
 His duty as a Starfleet
officer required him to uphold the policies of the Federation and obey the
orders of Starfleet
Command to the best of his ability.  But Picard was far from a tin
soldier.  On those rare
occasions when he felt, to the core of his soul, that an order ran
contrary to the principles of the
Federation, he was not afraid to stand up and challenge it.   Such was the
responsibility of those
officers high in the chain of command, and he felt acutely the weight of
it upon his shoulders.
     Not that anyone would know how he had struggled with this
assignment--except perhaps
Guinan, who always just *knew*.  Intellectually he knew that the Treaty
must be Starfleet's first
priority, that to allow the Federation to fall into another war with
Cardassia would be disastrous.
And yet, he imagined himself a civilian in the Zone, prey for Cardassian
marauders--and he
could not say with any certainty that in such a case he himself would not
joined with the Marquis.
Picard could not shake the gut instinct that the whole business felt
wrong, and Starfleet captains
were expected to pay close attention to their gut instincts.
     And, of course, he was worried about Ro.  He had argued vehemently
against giving her this
assignment, as vehemently as he could have without giving N'Cheyev the
impression that he
didn't trust her.  The idea of forcing the young Lieutenant into this
impossible position did not
appeal to him in the least, and in the end only the Admiral's veiled hints
that Starfleet Command
considered this to be a litmus test for her caused him to relent.  And as
he had watched her
being drawn deeper into the world of the Marquis, he had felt a growing
trepidation that he would
lose her to them.  To compensate, he had been more than strict in their
encounters, forcing her
to walk the straight and narrow path as best he could.  Still, at the end
she had made a
halfhearted attempt to bluff him into calling off the ambush, and he had
done the best he could to
keep her focused on Starfleet's objectives, even threatening her with
another court-martial.  And
he had sent Riker to her, to protect her from committing some foolish,
impulsive act that would
ruin her career.
     He hoped it was enough.  But there was a small voice clamoring for
attention within him, a
voice that he usually listened to but was consciously ignoring now.  It
was the same voice that
spoke up on those occasions when he misplayed a promising poker hand and
let Number One
take the pot.  And Picard very much didn't like what it was telling him
now.
     "I have established a relay link with the sensor probe we left on the
perimeter of the nebula,"
Data said, cutting across Picard's thoughts.  "This is the convoy."  Data
pointed, rather
unnecessarily, to a collection of ID tags on the screen which were
approaching the DMZ Border,
marked in red.  "We are expecting the Marquis attack force to cross the
Border from the
Demilitarized Zone."
     It was absolutely necessary for the bridge logs to show that
Starfleet had taken no action
within the Zone itself.  "As soon as they cross the Border we'll intercept
them," Picard confirmed.
     Lieutenant Worf stepped over from his tactical station.  "Captain, in
order to ensure that the
ship  Commander Riker and Lieutenant Ro are piloting does not come under
fire, I have relayed
their warp signature to the rest of the attack force."  Picard nodded.  It
wouldn't do to have two of
his officers hit by friendly fire.
     "Sir, the Marquis squadron is coming into sensor range," Data
reported.
     Picard looked at the flatscreen, which now showed a second group of
IDs moving toward the
Border from the other side.  *So far, so good.*  "Go to Red Alert," he
ordered Worf.
     "Aye, Sir."

     The courier's comm beeped, rousing Ro suddenly from her thoughts.
"Squad leader to all
ships," Santos' hail came over the speaker.
     "Go ahead, Squad Leader," Ro replied.
     "We'll be crossing the Border in...less than one minute.  Arm your
weapons."
     "Acknowledged."
      As Ro activated the Talon's newly-mounted phaser banks, Riker
reviewed their instructions.
"Starfleet can't make its move until we're out of the Demilitarized Zone,"
he commented.  "We're
to break formation and take cover in the nebula as soon as they appear."
     Ro noticed a change on her main display panel.  "The ships in the
convoy are raising their
shields; they've spotted us."
     Riker checked his own navigational readouts.  "We'll cross the Border
in thirty seconds."
     *Now.*  The ship shuddered ever so slightly as Ro cut the impulse
engines to one-half.
     Riker was disoriented by the courier's sudden drop in speed.  "What
the...?"  He looked up
and around, trying to spot a malfunction.
     Ro was on automatic now; she reached down to her side and pulled out
the phaser she had
hidden there earlier, swiveling in her seat, she trained the weapon on
Riker.  She had intended
to face him with cool determination, but the expression of naked shock on
his face as he realized
what she was doing was enough to break down that facade.  She suddenly
knew that what she
was seeing would be mirrored in the faces of her friends, her
shipmates...and Captain Picard.
And just as suddenly, she felt very alone.  "I'm sorry," she finally
managed to say, silently
pleading for a glimmer of understanding in his face.  "I can't let this
happen."  Without looking,
she reached over and activated another series of preprogrammed commands.

     At the science station, Data noticed it immediately.  "Sir, the
vessel being piloted by
Lieutenant Ro is firing a low-intensity particle beam into the nebula."
     *It's happened*, the voice inside Picard said.  He was at Data's side
in an instant, leaning
close to the flatscreen.  "What the hell is she doing?" he whispered
harshly, though he had a
feeling he already knew.
     "The polarizing effect being created by the beam may make it possible
for us to be detected."
     Picard fought down the sinking feeling in his stomach.  "Can you
counter the effect?" he
asked.
     "I will attempt to do so," Data replied, setting to work on the
panels.

     In the lead Marquis ship, Santos noticed it immediately as well,
though he had a good bit less
of an idea of what it meant.  "Ro, why are you firing?" he called.
     "Scan the nebula," the reply came.  "There's a Starfleet attack force
hiding inside it."
     Santos ran the scan--and sure enough, the traces of several large
metallic objects showed up
within the nebula.  "I see it!" he cried.  "Squad Leader to all ships," he
called urgently over the
general hail.  "Abort the mission, repeat, abort the mission!"

     "Sir, the Marquis ships are breaking formation," Data said.  A moment
later, the screen
confirmed his statement.
     "Have they crossed the Border?" Picard asked.
     "No, Sir.  They are withdrawing."
     "Captain," Worf called, drawing Picard's attention.  "Lieutenant Ro's
ship is not retreating with
the others."  He double-checked his readings, just to make sure he wasn't
mistaken.  "It is
heading towards us," he remarked with a twinge of surprise.
     Inside, Picard felt both guilt and anguish; he hadn't managed to
protect Ro well enough after
all.  But he was still a Starfleet officer, and there was only one thing
he could do.  The cool
exterior remained intact.  "When she comes aboard," he ordered, very
carefully, very
deliberately, so as not to betray his emotions, "take her into custody."
Worf started a bit, but
Picard would not let him or anyone else see any crack in his facade.

     "Alpha-seven to alpha-nine," Ro hailed.
     "Go ahead," Kalita's voice came back at once.
     "Stand by to beam me aboard."  She held her gaze on Riker.  "You can
take the ship back to
the *Enterprise*."
     "You're going with them?"  Riker sounded surprised, but not that
surprised.  Maybe he
understood after all, she thought.  Or at least, she hoped.
     "It's been a long time since I really felt like I belonged
somewhere."  As an explanation, it was
dreadfully short.  But it was also as complete of an answer as she could
give.  Keeping the
phaser on Riker, she rose and stepped into a clear spot for the
transporter.  She stood there for
a moment, deliberating on whether or not she could make one last request.
Finally she decided
that she couldn't not ask.  "Would you tell Captain Picard something for
me?"
     "Of course, what is it?"
     "Tell him I'm sorry."  She was fighting back tears now, trying to
make it to Kalita's ship before
breaking down completely.
     Riker nodded in assent.  His face softened, and Ro thought she saw
the understanding she'd
been looking for.  "So long, Ro," he said softly.  "Take care of
yourself."
     She nodded, feeling just a little better.  "Goodbye, Will."  Then for
a moment she stood
frozen, not quite willing to have it end this way.  But there was nothing
else to do, nothing else to
say.  "Energize," she told Kalita, and the transporter snatched her away,
leaving Riker to sit
there and wonder.

     Ro lowered the phaser as she materialized.  Kalita set the controls
and set the courier
speeding after the rest of the Marquis force as she slid into the
co-pilot's seat.
     Setting the controls on automatic, Kalita swiveled to face Ro.  "What
happened out there?"
she asked directly.
     In response, Ro reversed the phaser and offered it, butt first, to
Kalita.  "You were right," she
said resignedly.  "About me.  I was sent by Starfleet, to infiltrate the
Marquis and lead you into a
trap."
     Kalita's eyes narrowed, just a little.  "And that little stunt with
the Enterprise?"
     Ro laughed bitterly.  "It was all a setup.  And it worked, it got you
to trust me."
     Kalita seemed unsure what to do.  After a few seconds of
deliberation, she touched the comm
control.  "Santos?" she called.
     "No, Kalita," his calm voice came back.  Obviously he had been
listening in the whole time.
"Macias said that deep down, she was one of us.  And she is."  He sounded
completely satisfied.
     Kalita considered that briefly, and then nodded.  Gently she pushed
the phaser back into Ro's
lap and laid a hand on her shoulder.  "Let's go home."
     Ro nodded, her vision blurring for the first time.  "I'd like that,"
she said.
     But she spent the entire trip back curled up in her chair, staring
out at the stars.

     Standing in the Captain's Ready Room, still in his civilian garb and
Bajoran makeup, Riker
presented his report.  Picard hadn't asked about his conversation with Ro,
hadn't asked
anything, for that matter.  Except for signaling for Riker to enter and
initially acknowledging his
presence, he hadn't said anything at all.
     "She seemed very sure that she was doing the right thing," Riker
offered, his tone, even if
unconsciously, suggesting that *he* thought she was doing the right thing,
too.  "I think her only
regret was that she let you down."
     Picard showed no reaction at all, but just sat at his desk, eyes
focused on some point on the
far bulkhead.
     Riker was becoming distinctly uncomfortable.  He held out the padd.
"Here's my report."
     Picard didn't even acknowledge that Riker had spoken.
     After an extremely disquieting second, Riker laid the padd on the
edge of the desk.  Then,
seeing that there was nothing left to say on the matter, he spun and
practically fled the room,
leaving Captain Jean-Luc Picard, alone with his demons, still unwilling to
show a crack in his
mask.


[end Prologue]