Danny Amor's Online Library

home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search

/ Danny Amor's Online Library / Danny Amor's Online Library - Volume 1.iso / html / startrek / story / tng / bradford_behr / thereichenbachmaneuver.script

Wrap

Text File | 1995-08-20 | 104KB | 2,798 lines

Below find a spec script that I submitted to Paramount for their consideration. It was, alas, not selected to become a real TNG episode, but it was a lot of fun to write, and hopefully will be enjoyed by anyone who ftp-retrieves it. I'd be really psyched to get feedback, even a one-line email saying "Cool story!" or "It sucked!" I can be reached at bbbehr@sunspot.sunspot.noao.edu. Mucho danke, Brad ----------------------------------------------------------------- STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION "The Reichenbach Maneuver" story and script by Bradford Behr with help from Andrew Skinner Copyright (c) 1993 by Bradford Behr --------------------------------------------------------------------- TEASER ------ FADE IN: EXT. SPACE Q THE ENTERPRISE AND A STARBASE (OPTICAL) The Enterprise is parked near a Starbase, with a generic planetary surface in the background. Shuttlecraft and smaller ships buzzing about. PICARD (V.O.) Captain's log, stardate 47445.6. The Enterprise has arrived at Starbase 218 to take on replacement crew in preparation for a visit to Bullfinch IV, a non-aligned planet near Cardassian space. (beat) In light of recent maneuvers by the Cardassian fleet, Starfleet has ordered the Enterprise to the sector to "show the flag" and hopefully forestall any Cardassian aggression. We are also transporting assorted Starfleet personnel to the region. (beat) With the ship heading into potentially hostile territory, I am particularly aware of the absence of Lt. Cmdr. Data, who is on leave attending a cybernetics symposium at the Daystrom Institute. His steady hand at the helm will be sorely missed. INT. TRANSPORTER ROOM Riker is standing by the transporter pads. Behind the control console is a transporter engineer, and a few Ensigns stand by the door. The transporter pads shimmer, and assorted new crewbeings appear, including Specialist Tas O'Donel, a mousy-looking character, although no particular attention is drawn to him. They step down. RIKER Welcome to the Enterprise! I'm Commander Riker, the First Officer. The ensign here [he gestures at one by the door] will show you to your quarters. There will be a welcoming mixer for the new crew at point-eight, and familiarization briefings when you report to your department supervisors tomorrow morning. He nods to the Ensign, who escorts the newcomers out the door. When they are gone, Riker lets out a breath and sags a little. RIKER (to transporter engineer) How many more groups? TRANSPORTER ENGINEER (smiles) Just two more, sir. Won't be long now. I... (console beeps) One moment, sir. (beat) We're getting a command priority transport signal, sir. One to beam over from the Starbase. RIKER (straightens) Very well. Energize. Admiral Kyzyl shimmers on to the pad. He is an older man, wearing the usual admiral tunic. RIKER Attention on deck! KYZYL As you were, Commander. Permission to come aboard? RIKER Of course, sir. I'm very sorry, Admiral, I had no idea you were beaming aboard, or we'd have arranged a more appropriate reception... KYZYL Hardly necessary, Commander, nor expected. Until five minutes ago, I had no idea I'd be coming aboard. Is the Captain available? RIKER Yes, sir, I'll take you right to him. (to transporter engineer) Get those last two groups on board. Notify me when transport is complete. The transporter engineer nods an okay. RIKER (to Kyzyl) This way, sir. Riker and Kyzyl exit INT. READY ROOM Picard is at his desk, reading from his desktop display. The door chimes. PICARD Come! The door opens, and Riker steps in. RIKER Admiral Kyzyl, sir. PICARD Admiral! I was just notified of your arrival. (stands and comes around desk to shake Kyzyl's hand) I'd have met you when you beamed aboard... KYZYL ...had you known I was coming, but you didn't, and neither did I until I got a rather urgent communique from Starfleet Security about ten minutes ago. RIKER's eyebrows go up. PICARD Regarding our mission? KYZYL Indirectly. More accurately, regarding your newly assigned crew. One of them is a Cardassian spy. Better get your command staff together. Picard and Riker react with no small measure of surprise. FADE OUT. END OF TEASER. --------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT ONE ------- EXT. SPACE - ENTERPRISE AND STARBASE (a few seconds for episode title, guest stars) INT. BRIEFING ROOM The standard command crew, with the exception of Data, is seated around the table: Riker, Crusher, Laforge, Worf, Troi. Picard stands by the head chair, which he has given to Kyzyl for the briefing. We come in with the briefing already underway. CRUSHER (startled) A spy?!?! On the Enterprise?! Everyone else but Picard and Riker are reacting with similar surprise, except for Worf, who is both surprised and pleased. A worthy quarry of his security skills! KYZYL Yes, Doctor. More exactly, a Federation citizen who decided to sell out to the Cardassians. For what reason? Unknown. Probably money. But the particular motive is not important at this point. It can be determined after you catch the spy. LAFORGE After _we_ catch the spy? (Worf's predatory grin, although subtle, gets noticeably wider.) Excuse me, Admiral, but isn't this more of a job for Starfleet Counter-Intelligence? (Worf glares at Laforge but is unnoticed by anyone else.) KYZYL I suppose so, but the top brass at Headquarters has put the ball in our court. They are none too confident in Counter-Intelligence right now, and with good reason. It took them over a week to even discover the theft in the first place. PICARD Theft? What was stolen? KYZYL Yes, I'm getting ahead of myself. My apologies. (beat) Three days ago, the security staff at the Command Starbase for this sector, at Beta Pavonis VII, turned up evidence of an unauthorized access of the strategic planning computer cores. Quite a panic ensued, I am sure, since defense plans for this entire sector are developed and stored at that facility. Further study of the computer logs showed that only one file block had been compromised, that with files pertaining to the Minos Korva system. (Picard shifts uncomfortably. Deanna notices.) The access was very cleverly hidden, so it is not all that surprising that it took so long to discover. In fact, they were lucky to discover it when they did -- it could have gone months without detection, if not for a particularly alert systems programmer. We have to assume we're dealing with an individual with extensive computer expertise. (beat) We can also safely assume, I think, that the individual in question would be in something of a hurry to reach Cardassian space with this information. Attempting a direct border crossing would be fraught with risk. A more likely route would be via a nearby non-aligned system, such as Bullfinch. It has no strong ties to the Federation, and regular trade with Cardassian planets. Once there, it would be a simple matter for the spy to secure passage to Cardassia. As the Enterprise is headed to Bullfinch IV, we think it likely that the spy would utilize this means to reach safe haven. RIKER (slightly incredulous) Are you suggesting, sir, that the spy will attempt to stow away on the Enterprise? KYZYL No, no, not at all. Much too risky and uncertain. No, the spy is one of your officially assigned new crewpersons or passengers. PICARD It seems unlikely that the spy could arrange to be assigned to the Enterprise on such short notice... KYZYL Given. More likely, the data theft was executed only after notification of the assignment to the Enterprise. With a ready means of escape at hand, the spy then made his move. Picard nods. Sounds plausible... WORF Then, sir, what we must do is review the list of crew transfers and passengers, identify those who were stationed at, or visiting, the Command Starbase at the time of the theft... KYZYL Already done, Lieutenant... WORF ...and these are our suspects. KYZYL Exactly. There are four. (He activates the wall display, showing a Starfleet personnel dossier page. The ID photo is of a youngish Vulcan male.) Lt. Sralev, regularly stationed on the Intrepid, temporarily detached to the Enterprise to study modifications and upgrades to your computer protocols. He was on the Command Starbase for an entire week prior to the break-in, and being a computer specialist, might have had the means to circumvent the core security. BEVERLY But being a Vulcan, he should be above suspicion. KYZYL Despite their reputation for trustworthiness, the Vulcan race has had its share of dissenters and even traitors. The decision to join the Federation was not an easy one, and even to this day there is a small but vocal minority on the planet who are "morally and ethically" opposed to Starfleet's military role. Much as we'd like to, we cannot rule out Lt. Sralev on the basis of his planet of origin. (Clicks to next display, a dossier page showing a lumpy-headed blue individual. Highly evident are two high ridges or tubular structures on the back of the neck, twin external brainstems.) Lt. An'riikh'ta, a Metaakan. His planet just recently joined the Federation, and the Lieutenant is one of its first representatives in StarFleet. He is joining your exobiology department. His dossier suggests no unusual computer skills, but he _was_ on the Starbase at the time of the theft. He's scheduled to arrive here soon, so you should expect him to beam aboard within the hour. (Next display, an attractive human female, in Security yellow.) Lt. Cmdr. Raisa Albion, of Starfleet Command. She is visiting Bullfinch to evaluate tactical threats and responses, should the Cardassians attempt to annex the system. She was previously stationed at the site of the data theft, and would thus be familiar with security procedures there. (Next display, a different (i.e. non-Starfleet) format dossier, showing a sort of mousy-looking guy.) Specialist Tas O'Donel. He'll be going on from Bullfinch IV to Bajor, DS9 specifically, to join an archeological expedition to the Gamma Quadrant. As you see, he is not a member of Starfleet, and has not undergone the rigorous security screening of the others. However, like Lt. An'riikh'ta, he has no record of anything but a rudimentary level of computer expertise. PICARD So the spy is one of these four. WORF (rising) I will initiate a search of their quarters immediately. KYZYL One moment, Lieutenant. What are you going to look for? WORF (pauses, puzzled at the obvious question) The missing data solids, of course. KYZYL Aha. Unfortunately, the missing data solids were later found at the Starbase, wiped clean. The data was evidently transferred to another medium, and we have no idea what form it might be in now -- a personal disk? a book? It might even be encoded to a photo holocube. And the spy might be using an unwitting innocent crewmember to smuggle the data. A physical search would thus be difficult and yet would not serve to convict the spy. Starfleet wants more than to simply retrieve the stolen data. We need to capture this spy, to discourage any other potential traitors. Worf sits, deflated a bit. TROI Could the data have been memorized by the spy before it was erased from the data solids? KYZYL Not in any significant detail. The broad outlines of the defense strategy, perhaps, but this would be of little use to the Cardassians, and there is no known mnemonic technique that could have assimilated the entirety of the stolen files. CRUSHER Even Vulcan mind-disciplines? KYZYL Mmmmmm... possible. A good point, Doctor. (turns to Picard) Something to keep in mind, Jean-Luc. Sorry to dump this in your lap, but you and your crew seem to be the best chance to plug this leak. Hopefully, the spy will make a mistake before you reach Bullfinch. (stands) You'll be wanting to depart soon. I'll get out of your way. Good luck, Jean-Luc. (to everybody) Good luck. EVERYBODY Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Etc, etc, etc. Riker escorts Kyzyl to the door, summons ensign waiting nearby. RIKER See the Admiral to Transporter Room 3. Riker returns to his place at the table. Picard has retaken the head chair. PICARD Well. Suggestions? WORF I still think we should search their quarters. And question them. TROI I disagree. That would serve only to put the spy on guard. At this point, he -- or she -- doesn't know whether the break-in has been discovered. If there is no visible sign of pursuit, the spy may relax prematurely and grow careless. A subtle approach would be much better. Worf is grudingly impressed with such grasp of espionage strategy. PICARD A good thought, Counselor. From a different angle: could you use your empathic ability to identify the spy? TROI Probably not. Emotional undercurrents of guilt or nervousness, perhaps, but I doubt that a trained espionage agent would display very much of either. And I'd be unable to distinguish the cause of such feelings, even if I _did_ detect them. CRUSHER And in the case of the Metaakan, I doubt you'd sense very much at all. I've read initial reports about them in the recent literature; they're a fascinating study in divergent nervous system development. Some of you may have noticed the twin external brainstem structures. The internal cortical organization is similarly bifurcated, not unlike the Ferengi. And like the Ferengi, they are largely unreadable by Betazoid empathic or telepathic sensing. (beat, she raises an eyebrow) An useful trait for a spy. PICARD But still not sufficient evidence that he actually _is_ the spy. (beat) Well, we have a mission to complete, regardless of our passenger list, and a departure schedule to follow. We will meet tomorrow to discuss this matter more fully. Mr. Worf, I'll expect a security analysis and some contingency options by then. And I recommend that all of you who are available stop by the welcoming party for the new crew this evening and sound out our "suspects" if you have an opportunity. (beat) _Try_ not to be obvious. (a pointed look directed at Worf) Dismissed. They rise to exit. EXT. SPACE - THE ENTERPRISE DEPARTS THE STARBASE INT. 10-FORWARD A party is in progress. Assorted crew are standing about chatting, eating, drinking, and having a good time. Picard, Riker, and Laforge are in with the crowd. Camera pans to Worf, who is lurking beside/behind a large potted plant, doing a singularly poor job of following Picard's directive for subtleness. Troi edges up beside him. TROI (amused at Worf) I hate to disappoint you, Worf, but you're still visible back there. Are you expecting the spy to sneak off to a corner and set up a communications relay during the party? WORF (annoyed at Troi's amusement) Of course not, Counselor. I am simply... observing. TROI Well, I think you'd find out a lot more if you got out there and mingled. (Worf scowls at the concept of mingling.) Talk to some of our... special passengers. Get them talking about themselves. Maybe one of them will let something slip. Look, Lt. An'riikh'ta is over by the onion dip. Good thing he got here before we departed. Go talk to him. I'm going to go guard the desserts. She moves off, in search of chocolate. Worf reluctantly abandons his observation post and moves towards An'riikh'ta. Troi passes Laforge and Sralev, who are deep in techie talk. LAFORGE Yes, Data... that's Lt. Cmdr. Data... (Sralev nods -- he's heard of Data) and I modified some of the control interlinks in the optical processor cores to improve the access speeds. We were able to gain a few percent over the standard configuration. We based the redesign on the structure of Data's own neural nets. Dr. Soong was a pretty clever guy... SRALEV Yes, I had anticipated being able to meet -- and study -- your Lt. Cmdr. Data. But I understand that he is on leave. LAFORGE Yeah, he's at the Daystrom Institute for the next two weeks. SRALEV How unfortunate. Troi sees Crusher alone nearby and makes her way over, dessert in tow. Crusher has her doctor coat on. TROI Hello, Beverly. You don't look dressed for the occasion. (indicates the doctor coat) CRUSHER No, I just stopped by briefly to grab a bite. I have two hundred new crew members to run physicals on in the next three days, and Sickbay is _not_ ready. (lowers her voice) Have you met any of our... friends? (meaningful glance at Troi) TROI (smiles at the doublespeak) Just Lt. An'riikt'ka. (she gestures over to where An'riikh'ta is talking a blue streak at Worf) CRUSHER And? TROI I didn't sense a thing. There may be a very low level of emotional resonance being masked by the presence of so many others, but I don't think so. As you hypothesized, he's a blank to me. But a very friendly fellow, from what I could tell. Crusher nods, as her hypothesis is borne out, then scans around the room. CRUSHER Well, it certainly looks like Will is keeping a close guard on one of our suspects. She indicates a corner where Riker and Albion are chatting. Riker is in charm mode Warp 9, and Albion is reciprocating fully. They're standing fairly close together, too. TROI (with mischievous look to Crusher) I think I'll go say hi. CRUSHER (a little smirk back) You do that. I'm headed back to work. Troi nods goodbye as Crusher exits. Troi heads across the room towards Riker and Albion. TROI Hello, Will. RIKER (reacts to Troi's voice with smidgeon of a guilty start) Deanna! I'd like you to meet Lt. Cmdr. Raisa Albion. Counselor Deanna Troi. They shake hands. ALBION (coolly) Hi. TROI (trying to be polite) How do you do? What brings you to the Enterprise? ALBION Just catching a ride to Bullfinch IV. Starfleet Command wants an evaluation of security issues in the system. But in the meantime, I plan to enjoy the cruise. (She flashes a glance at Riker) TROI (amused at Riker's discomfited reaction to this blatant flirtation) Yes, well, I'm sure you will. (turns to Riker) Have you seen Specialist O'Donel? The captain wanted to chat with him about this archeological dig that he's going on. RIKER No, I don't think I've seen him. (he fishes a datapad out of his pocket and scans it) He's right around the corner in cabin 10-23, if you want to look for him. TROI Thanks, I think I'll drop in on him. (Nods to Albion. To Riker, slyly,) Enjoy the party. Troi heads for the exit. In her way, she passes Worf, who is still being talked at by An'riikh'ta. AN'RIKKH'TA ...but the structure of the Klingon liver is most remarkable in its similarities to the sponge molds of Aldebaran III. I've always found the parallels most fascinating. I can show you some samples if you like... Worf glares helplessly at Troi as she passes -- look what you got me in to! She just waves and proceeds to the door. INT. DOOR TO GUEST QUARTERS Troi signals at the door. A lengthy pause. Then the door opens to O'Donel. He does not look at all well -- equal parts worry and nausea. TROI Specialist O'Donel? O'DONEL (on his guard) Yes? TROI (smiling, trying to put him at ease) I'm Deanna Troi, Ship's Counselor. We realize you're only with us as far as Bullfinch IV, but I thought you might like to stop by the welcoming party in 10-Forward and meet some of the crew and your fellow passengers... O'DONEL Oh. Well, um, thanks, but I'm... not really much of one for parties. (He smiles wanly, evidently eager to retreat back into his room.) TROI Are you alright, Specialist? You don't look well... O'DONEL (straightening up, trying to look fit) No, no, I'm just fine. TROI Dr. Crusher is down in Sickbay right now. I'm sure she'd be glad to look you over if you're feeling poor. O'DONEL No, I'm ok. It's just... I'm... I don't enjoy travelling. (He moves to close the door.) TROI (not convinced by his explanation) Well, I hope you're feeling better tomorrow. Good night. O'DONEL Good night, Counselor. INT. GUEST CABIN O'Donel closes the door and moves back to his bunk. He takes a personal picture holocube from his bedside table and looks at it longingly. It depicts a bucolic country scene, probably Earth, with river and forest. He clutches it to his chest and looks forlorn. FADE OUT END OF ACT ONE --------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT TWO ------- INT. BRIEFING ROOM The command crew is assembled for the morning discussion of the spy search: Picard, Riker, Crusher, Troi, Worf, Laforge are seated around the table. PICARD Well, I gather that you all had a chance to at least put in an appearance at last night's function. I saw most of our possible spies in attendance as well. (beat) Geordi, you spent a good deal of time talking with our Vulcan visitor. Impressions? LAFORGE Well, Captain, spy or no, he certainly knows his optical processor systems. He had some pretty sharp ideas about further reconfigurations of our computer core interlinks. I tried to get him talking about larger core systems he'd worked on, like those on Starbases, but he kept steering the conversation back to the Enterprise systems. Not like he was being evasive, just... focused on his current assignment. PICARD Pretty typical for a Vulcan... Did anyone else talk with Sralev? RIKER I did, but only briefly. He seemed to lose interest as soon as he realized I wasn't a technical expert. (he smiles at this) So I'd certainly agree with Geordi's assessment that he's "focused" on his assignment. PICARD Any readings from Sralev, Counselor? TROI Just the steady low emotional baseline I sense in most Vulcans, Captain. Sralev's would be best described as a cool curiosity. I couldn't tell any more than that, given the background noise from everybody else present. PICARD (nods, then) And Lt. An'riikh'ta, our Metaakan friend? Anything from him? TROI As Beverly expected, not a thing. (she frowns, puzzled) In fact, I didn't even sense his presence. Usually, even with races like the Ferengi, the neural activity is present, but indecipherable. But this Metaakan was just... a void. (turns to Crusher) Is this mentioned in the literature? CRUSHER I don't know. I'll have to run a search and let you know later. (she makes a notation on her datapad) PICARD I only talked with him briefly. He seemed quite friendly and talkative. Troi turns to Worf, who acknowledges her look. WORF Yes, I found him _quite_ talkative. He went on at length about my liver. (Worf looks disgusted) Eyebrows go up all around the table. PICARD Indeed, Mr. Worf? WORF Yes, he compared it to a... his description is unimportant. I did manage to ask him about the use of computer systems analysis in his exobiology work. He claimed no particular skills in that regard. RIKER As his file says... PICARD No surprises there, then. Or indications of suspicion? (Worf shakes his head no.) Well then. Our Security representative, Lt. Cmdr. Albion. I talked with her for a short while. Very congenial. I found her a very friendly sort. TROI (with a side glance at Riker) Yes sir, you're not the only one. (Riker fidgets) I met her when she was talking with Commander Riker (a little emphasis on the title) and she was very sociable. PICARD Any empathic impressions? TROI (furrows her brow in recollection) Amusement. RIKER (a little defensively) Well, it was a fun party. TROI No, not that she was necessarily enjoying the entertainment. More that she was amused... by us. Almost... scorn, although that's much too strong a word. Riker looks dubious. CRUSHER Maybe our little party wasn't up to Starbase standards... TROI Possibly... I have no way of knowing for sure. PICARD And finally our archeologist passenger, whom I did not see all evening. Did you manage to track him down, Counselor? TROI Yes, he had stayed in his cabin, claiming to be "not much one for parties." He looked dreadfully ill when I talked to him, but said he was fine. He certainly seemed upset or nervous about something. WORF Perhaps he has something to hide and was unnerved by the unwelcome attention. Worf's expression shows what he thinks of people who become "unnerved." CRUSHER Or perhaps he really was ill. Some people just don't like to travel. I'll give him a closer look if he reports to Sickbay. What was your impression, Deanna? TROI Just a general undefined nervousness. I couldn't tell what it might have been directed towards. PICARD No particular leads at this time, then, it seems. Mr. Worf, this exercise would appear to be largely your baliwick. Security recommendations? WORF None at this time, sir. Since the spy's intent is escape, and his primary defense is anonymity, I would not expect him to do anything to draw attention to himself, so danger to the ship or crew is unlikely. I have increased security patrols in sensitive areas as a precautionary measure only. I will continue to keep the four suspects under observation. PICARD Very good. Anyone else? (turns to Crusher) Any opinion from the Medical Department, Doctor? CRUSHER Aside from wanting to get a firsthand look at An'riikh'ta's neural physiology, I have no medical input for the situation. PICARD Engineering input, Geordi? LAFORGE I'll be spending a lot of time with Sralev over the next week. I'll stay alert in case he lets anything slip about Starbase computer cores, but I doubt he'd make an error like that if he were the spy. PICARD (nods, then) I'd still really like to hear about this Gamma Quadrant dig from O'Donel. I'll schedule a little chat with him later today in my ready room. (beat) And Lt. Cmdr. Albion? Is someone available to sound her out further? RIKER I... am scheduled to meet her for lunch today. A few smirks around the table. Picard catches on to Troi's earlier comment. PICARD (with a smile) I see. I'll expect a full report, Number One. RIKER Uh... yes sir. PICARD (back to business) That concludes our planning session, I believe. We'll just have to remain vigilant and hope that fortune smiles upon us. (beat) We'll meet tomorrow at the same time to discuss any progress. Dismissed. All rise. INT. EXOBIOLOGY LAB A small but well-equipped laboratory room. It is in a state of disarray, as it is being set up. An'riikh'ta is unpacking equipment and setting up. He is being very methodical, almost mechanical. The door chimes. He immediately starts acting differently, sort of perky. AN'RIIKH'TA Enter, please! The door opens and Crusher enters partway, remaining in the doorframe. An'riikh'ta straightens and comes from behind his lab bench to greet her, exuding eagerness and anxiousness in equal amounts. AN'RIIKH'TA (with a little head-bob motion, sort of a mini-bow) Good afternoon, you are if I am not mistaken Doctor Beverly Crusher Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise. I am pleased in making your acquaintance. Welcome to my laboratory space. How may I assist you in the purpose of your visit to me? Would you like to see cell samples from a Terran stoat? They are most fascinating! CRUSHER (finally getting a chance to speak, smiling) Yes, Lt. An'riikh'ta, I am Dr. Crusher. I just wanted to stop by and welcome you to the Enterprise, since I didn't meet you at last night's party. Are you settling in OK? AN'RIIKH'TA Oh, yes, most OK, thank you. There is much to prepare to render my laboratory in a fully functional condition but I am finding everything necessary for my doing so. (hopefully) My stoat cells are right here... CRUSHER (smiling politely) I must return to work myself. Perhaps some other time. I also stopped by to remind you to come by Sickbay for your physical sometime soon. As a new member of the crew, we need to run a quick medscan for our files. AN'RIIKH'TA Oh, yes, most assuredly, Dr. Crusher. I will attempt to do so as soon as it is logistically feasible. As you see, I am most overcome with organizational duties at the current time. CRUSHER I understand. Sometime today or tomorrow morning, though, be sure to stop by. It'll be quick. AN'RIIKH'TA Oh, yes, Doctor. He manages something approximating a smile. Crusher responds in kind and exits. An'riikt'ha's demeanor immediately reverts to its original stiffness as he goes back to unpacking. INT. READY ROOM Picard is seated at his desk, working away. The door chimes. PICARD Come! O'Donel enters, somewhat hesitantly, even more so when he notices the real window behind Picard's desk. He hangs near the door. O'DONEL You, uh, wanted to see me, sir? PICARD (smiling, trying to be welcoming) Yes, Specialist O'Donel, please, come in, sit down. (O'Donel complies, but slowly) I was hoping to hear a little more about this dig you're going to in the Gamma Quadrant. O'DONEL Yes, sir. A pause, as Picard waits for O'Donel to continue, which he doesn't. PICARD (explaining his interest, hoping to get O'Donel talking) Archeology is something of a hobby of mine. I studied with Professor Galen for a while, and I try to keep up with the current literature. Are you expecting any influence from proto-Bajoran cyclic glyphs on the other side of the wormhole? O'DONEL (distracted, trying to avoid looking at the window but not be impolite to the Captain) Um, that might be, sir. I have some papers on the subject that you can read... PICARD (getting a little impatient) Who is leading the team? O'DONEL (fidget, fidget, fidget) Uh, that would be Dr. Quulnar, from the Andorian Institute of Prehistorical Cultures. Sir. PICARD Yes, I've read some of his work. Never met the fellow. Is he a good site leader? O'DONEL I don't know, sir. PICARD (tiring of this "conversation") Well thank you, specialist. (strained smile) It's been most interesting talking to you. Good luck with the expedition. I look forward to reading about your findings in the journals. O'DONEL Yes, sir, thank you sir. He turns and exits as fast as politely possible. Picard does his wide-eyed inhale-exhale my-wasn't-that-fascinating-NOT expression. INT. 10-FORWARD An'riikh'ta is sitting alone at a table, eating something Metaakan, no doubt. 10-Foward is moderately busy. Albion enters, spots An'riikh'ta, gets a drink at the bar, and then approaches An'riikh'ta's table. ALBION Excuse me, Lt. An'riikh'ta? AN'RIIKH'TA (somewhat startled at being addressed) Yes? Lt. Commander! Good day. (he stands, awkwardly) I studied carefully the command staff of this ship when I was assigned but you I do not recall from this study. Are you as well new to the Enterprise? ALBION (smiling) Yes, I'm just a passenger. Raisa Albion. She sticks out her hand. An'riikh'ta hesitates fractionally, then they hake hands. An'riikh'ta tosses in his little bow-greeting, and then sits abruptly when he realizes that she's already seated herself. ALBION I hope you don't mind if I join you, but Captain Picard mentioned that you had just joined the exobiology department on board...? AN'RIIKH'TA Yes, that is correct information. I am very excited to be travelling aboard this ship to many exciting new planets to study the many different organisms living at these places. ALBION (feigning fascination) Wow. That's really exciting. I've always been fascinated by the biological diversity in the galaxy, but (looks dejected) I didn't have the scientific background to study exobio at the Academy. (perks back up) I'd love to see your lab sometime, though! AN'RIIKH'TA (wow, someone who _wants_ to hear about my work!) Oh, but most certainly! I have many exciting samples I can show you. Did you know that Rigellian sand-weevils have _four_ separate olfactory sensory systems? ALBION (wide-eyed) That's astounding! AN'RIIKH'TA (warming to the subject) Why yes, it is due to their highly chemically complex environment... The door swooshes open, and Albion turns to see Riker enter the room. She waves, and then turns back to An'riikh'ta. ALBION I'm sorry, I have to go right now. But as I said, I'd love to see your lab and hear more about the Rigellian sand-weevil. When can I stop by? AN'RIIKH'TA Oh, I am still unpacking my equipment and preparing it for its use, but any time would be convenient for me. ALBION (smiling) Thanks. I'll see you later. An'riikh'ta stands and mini-bows as she leaves the table. She goes over to Riker, who is waiting at the bar, and they leave the room together. An'riikh'ta returns to his food. INT. ENGINEERING Worf on patrol. Dimmer lights, and only a skeleton staff, suggesting that it's later in the "evening." He nods to the engineering crew on duty, and is moving on when his keenly sensitive hunter's ears detect a scuffling sound from one of the dark side corridors. Worf tiptoes (insofar as a Klingon can manage such a feat) towards the noise and peers around the corner. Sralev is down at ground level, an access hatch at his side. He is peering into the conduit, a portable light in one hand and some tool in the other. Worf's eyes widen at the sight of his quarry, and he stealthily rounds the corner and approaches, his hand on his phaser at his belt. He is within 3 or 4 meters of Sralev when Laforge speaks from within the conduit. LAFORGE Sralev, shine the light up here, will you? Yeah, right there. You see the crossover patch we installed here? The folks who put this in at our last overhaul hooked up the power leads with the wrong phasing, and instead of taking it out entirely, which would have disabled the port sensor suite for a day or more, we just inserted some phase delay loops here... and here. It's a crude fix, but it'll hold us until we're next in drydock. SRALEV I see. Very ingenious. Sounds of motion, and Laforge emerges from the hatch and spots Worf, who has assumed a somewhat less threatening stance. LAFORGE Oh, good evening Worf. What are you doing here? Sralev turns, showing no surprise (that acute Vulcan hearing probably knew of his approach), and nods to Worf. Worf nods back. WORF Good evening, Mr. Laforge. I was... taking a stroll. I'll be on my way. LAFORGE (already starting to replace the access panel) OK, Worf. See you. With a last steely glare at this Vulcan who had the temerity to not be engaged in some nefarious deed, Worf turns and departs. Sralev watches him go with a rather intense focus as Laforge finishes replacing the hatch. -- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Bradford B. Behr bbbehr@sunspot.sunspot.noao.edu Sacramento Peak National Solar Observatory, Sunspot NM 88349 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT THREE --------- INT. CORRIDOR NEAR TURBOLIFT Riker and Albion are at a corridor junction. ALBION (smiling) Thanks. That was fun. I've never been to Alaska. RIKER (smiling also) My pleasure. (he presses the turbolift "up" button as he continues to talk to her) The holodeck is a nice diversion. I don't know how they got by without in the old days. (beat) Duty calls. I'm on the conn until point-eight. ALBION (smiling coyly) Find me when you're off duty. RIKER I'll do that. The turbolift arrives, and the door opens on Troi, who is apparently on her way to the bridge as well. The women see each other and exchange a wary look. RIKER Until then. ALBION Bye. He steps into the turbolift and notices Troi for the first time. RIKER Counselor. TROI Commander. The door closes. INT. TURBOLIFT A few moments silence, then Troi speaks. TROI You seem to be spending a lot of time with Lt. Cmdr. Albion. RIKER Yes, I am. She's a fascinating person. (beat) Is that a problem? (a slightly combative edge to his voice) TROI (turns to face him fully) She _is_ a possible traitor to Starfleet, Will. RIKER I haven't forgotten. (beat) We're supposed to be keeping a close watch on all four of them, right? That's what I'm doing. TROI Your interest in her has progressed considerably beyond the requirements of duty, Will. It's fairly evident, even to a non-empath. RIKER So why is that a problem? TROI Because emotional attachment can interfere with professional objectivity. RIKER There's nothing wrong with my objectivity, Counselor. TROI No? (Riker looks daggers at her, she returns the look, and then relents) Look, Will, I'm not trying to get in the way. I just would hate to see your emotional condition jeopardize our assignment. (beat) Or vice versa. RIKER It's okay, Deanna. I've got it under control. Besides, you don't _really_ think she's a likely suspect, do you? TROI (looking forward, not at Riker) I do. She's my top candidate. INT. BRIDGE The door opens before Riker can reply, and Troi steps briskly out on to the bridge. Riker, after a moment's hesitation, follows. Riker takes the conn from Worf, who is in the center seat. RIKER (moving towards center seat) I have the conn, Mr. Worf. WORF Aye sir. RIKER Report. Navigation status? WORF (standing to relinquish the seat) On schedule, sir. We passed Hamaoka and Waikaloa two point five hours ago. Proceeding at warp six to Bullfinch system. ETA in twenty-two hours. He gives a meaningful look to Riker, indicating "we're running out of time." Riker gets the message and nods, taking the seat. Troi takes her post in the adjacent seat. RIKER Thank you, Mr. Worf. You are relieved. Worf nods and heads for the turbolift. INT. TURBOLIFT Worf rides alone for a bit. At a lower floor, the door opens and a few crew get on. They acknowledge Worf; he grunts in reply, deep in thought about the spy problem. More people get on at the next floor. Through the open door, Worf spies An'riikh'ta walking down the corridor. Worf reaches abruptly to hold the door open, startling the other passengers, and then he steps out. WORF (mumbled, as an afterthought) Excuse me. He follows An'riikh'ta at a distance, trailing him. INT. CORRIDOR An'riikh'ta is passing through a crew quarters section when he encounters a young ensign who is stabbing futilely at his external room keypad. Something is evidently amiss and he can't get in to his room. An'riikh'ta stops. AN'RIIKH'TA Are you encountering difficulties? ENSIGN Yes, sir, my door controls seem to be jammed. An'riikh'ta steps to take a closer look at the panel. He makes a few experimental keypresses. AN'RIIKH'TA Oh, it seems to be stuck in a reset loop. Press Alpha-Zero-Clear... (he does so, the panel chirps cooperatively) ...and the keypad system returns to its power-up state. Re-enter your access code, and it will work as before. ENSIGN (rather impressed) Thank you sir. I'll remember that. An'riikh'ta does his little head bob/bow and continues down the corridor while the ensign enters his room. Worf has witnessed the whole encounter from the other end of the corridor, and his facial expression reflects his realization of the implications of his observations. INT. HYDROPONICS BAY Rows of leafy plants (mostly green, but some non-terrestrial exotics as well) are growing in bins. Maybe some condensation on the walls to give the impression of an opaque greenhouse. The door opens and Laforge enters with a Botanist Ensign. ENSIGN Yeah, the two port condensers keep going off line. We can't figure it out. Thanks for coming down and looking at them. LAFORGE Hey, sure. (he takes out an engineering tricorder) I'll see what I can do. The ensign retreats and leaves Laforge to work. He approaches the first condenser unit, studying the tricorder readings and mumbling to himself. LAFORGE Hmm... power source looks OK. Humidity sensor subsystem... yeah. I wonder... He moves towards the other condenser and almost trips over O'Donel, who is sitting on the floor with his eyes closed. O'Donel jumps to his feet, startled and flustered. O'DONEL I'm... I'm terribly sorry. I... I'll go right now. He starts to leave. LAFORGE No, no, that's OK. Sorry to disturb you. He gives O'Donel an odd look, then turns back to his tricorder. He continues to talk, though, trying to put O'Donel at ease. LAFORGE Lots of people like to come down here to enjoy the plants. O'Donel relaxes minutely and moves back towards his corner hideaway. O'DONEL Yeah. I like it here. (beat) It feels solid and safe. Almost like being on land. LAFORGE (with a calculating look at O'Donel) Yeah, I could see that. (beat) Me, I prefer the holodeck. More variety. But I can see how the real thing would appeal to some folks. O'Donel shudders a bit at the thought of the holodeck. He sits and hugs his knees, and is quiet while Laforge opens a condenser hatch and fiddles with the innards. O'DONEL Will we be getting to Bullfinch IV soon? LAFORGE Yeah, later this evening. Why? O'DONEL (not meeting Laforge's look) Um... I'm just eager to get to the excavation. Laforge nods slowly, then makes some final adjustments to the condenser. LAFORGE (to himself) There, that should do the trick. (to O'Donel) I'll see you around. O'Donel smiles wanly at Laforge and then goes back to staring at the wall. Laforge gives him a last dubious look and then exits. EXT. SPACE - THE ENTERPRISE 1701-D is zipping along in warp. PICARD (V.O.) Captain's Log, Stardate 47448.35. We are but 11 hours from arrival at Bullfinch IV. Our deadline fast approaches, and we are in dire need of a significant breakthough in our mission. **INT. ENGINEERING Laforge and Sralev are poring over some technical diagrams. LAFORGE (casually, as he scans some panels) I notice you've already filled up almost of quad of primary storage with your guest account in the computer. SRALEV Yes. LAFORGE (waits for further response, then continues, still trying to just make small talk) Files you brought with you? Reference materials? Sralev looks faintly insulted, as though reliance on reference materials is a major moral failing. Laforge looks back at him until the Vulcan is impelled to elaborate. SRALEV I have been making notes on your systems. A number of modifications and improvements have occurred to me. I will inform you of my results when my studies are complete. Laforge nods and goes back to work. Picard enters Engineering, sees the pair, and heads over. PICARD Mr. Laforge? The two techies straighten from their work. Sralev nods to acknowledge the Captain. LAFORGE Yes, sir? PICARD May I speak with you for a moment? LAFORGE (catching on) Right away, sir. He leaves Sralev and he and Picard confer in low voices a few meters from Sralev, who continues to work, although the tilt of his head and slant of his eyes indicates that he can overhear them. PICARD We appear to be making little headway in our... special assignment. It seems likely that we will have to initiate a physical search to attempt to recover the missing items. I'd like you to come up with some means of identifying any hidden patterns in any storage medium that Security might discover. LAFORGE I've already had some ideas along that line, Captain. I'll start implementing them right away. PICARD Very good. Picard exits. Laforge returns to where Sralev is assiduously studing the tech charts. LAFORGE The Captain's put me on a special assignment. You're welcome to go look at the sensor buffer banks yourself, if you like. SRALEV Is this special assignment something in which I may assist you? LAFORGE Uh, no, that's OK. It's a pretty straightforward little task. Sralev nods and departs. Laforge watches him go, wondering how to read his response. Then he shrugs and turns to his new task. **INT. BRIEFING ROOM The command crew is once again gathered around the table. PICARD Our spy continues to elude us, I presume? WORF Yes, sir. PICARD Any leads at all? WORF Well, sir, I witnessed Lt. An'riikh'ta correctly diagnose and correct a door keypad error on crew quarters level 17. Given his reported low level of computer proficiency, I find this... anomalous. CRUSHER That certainly sounds suspicious. PICARD I get the impression, Doctor, that you think our Metaakan friend the primary suspect. CRUSHER He's certainly been reluctant to come in for his physical examination. I've sent him memos, dropped by his lab -- everything short of issuing him a direct order -- and he still hasn't reported to Sickbay. I think he's trying to hide _something_. PICARD That may be, but it's hardly compelling evidence. (beat) Anything from Lt. Sralev, Geordi? Any response from him to our little conference? LAFORGE No, sir. He offered to help, but didn't react strangely when I turned him down. At least, not that I could tell. As you'd imagine, he's a tough one to read. (beat) But I did run into Specialist O'Donel in the hydroponics bay on Deck 23. PICARD Indeed? What was he doing there? LAFORGE Just sitting, best I could tell. He seemed to find it a comfortable place. Although I couldn't shake the feeling that he was trying to hide from something. PICARD Mmm. (beat) Any other observations, or suspicions? (He looks around the table. Negative headshakes all around.) In that case, it seems we have no choice but to institute a search of the visiting and new crew quarters. Most of the command crew react with surprise. WORF (sotto voice) Finally. RIKER (to Picard) I thought we'd determined that a search would be fruitless. The data could be encoded in practically any form. PICARD Yes, but Lt. Cmdr. Laforge has developed a possible means to detect such encoding. Geordi? LAFORGE Right, Captain. (beat) I've adapted a transporter molecular scanner system with a pattern- recognition algorithm. Any sort of information-bearing medium, be it holographic, or magnetic, or optical, or molecular, can be scanned by this apparatus, which will search for regular patterns in unexpected locations on the medium. Given the known quantity of data in the missing files, we'll be able to detect any block of encoding of that size in anything we scan. _Assuming_ that the data is recognizable as a pattern; it could conceivably follow some algorithm that makes it look like random proton orientations, or something. In that case, the search program would miss it. But I'm hoping that the spy didn't have time to create something that subtle when he transferred the data to its current format. RIKER Can this device of yours scan objects remotely? LAFORGE No, we have put each object in the containment chamber for scanning. RIKER So we'll actually have to do a room-by-room search. How do we explain that to the crew? CRUSHER (with a ironic smile) I don't think they'll buy the health and safety inspection routine. PICARD No, they won't. I think the best approach would be to explain to them exactly what it is we're looking for, and why. WORF But that will tip off the spy. PICARD The spy will be alerted anyway when we start our search. At least this way, we can enlist the cooperation of the rest of the crew, to keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior. TROI What if the spy attempts to move the data from his or her quarters? Or has already done so? PICARD In the former case, security should search anybody who is carrying anything from the area of the crew quarters. (he eyes Worf; Worf nods) In the latter case, we'll just have to keep searching. (beat) I really can think of no other options available to us at this point. We may not be able to catch the spy red-handed, but we will at the very least recover the data. (beat) Agreed? Grudging nods from around the table. PICARD Very well. Mr. Laforge, prepare your scanning apparatus. Mr. Worf, get your security crews moving to the crew quarters levels. Start with the new crew, and cover Albion's, An'riikh'ta's, O'Donel's, and Sralev's cabins among the first, but without focusing exclusively on them. You know what to tell your staff to look for. I'll make the announcement to the crew. (beat) The rest of you, do whatever you can to assist in the search process. We are running perilously short on time. INT. CORRIDOR Assorted crew are going about their business when Picard comes over the public comm channel. They stop and look up at the ceiling as they listen. PICARD (V.O.) Attention all hands, this is the Captain. We have been informed by Starfleet Counter- Intelligence of the possibility that highly classified material is being illegally transported aboard the Enterprise. In an effort to recover this material, Security teams are initiating a room-to-room search, starting with the quarters of our newest arrivals. Please cooperate with them to the best of your ability, so we can resolve this issue as swiftly as passible. INT. ANOTHER CORRIDOR Albion, nearing her own quarters, hears the announcement. She reacts with concern and anger (oh, shoot!) and almost runs the rest of the way to her cabin. INT. ALBION'S CABIN She rushes in and closes the door. Without bothering to turn on the lights, she reaches behind some piece of furniture and retrieves a holocube. She looks around the room, spies a small duffle, and stuffs the cube into it. She then returns to the door, opens it, and cautiously peers out. A security team is a few tens of meters down the hall to the right, deploying to search the rooms. With another silent curse, Albion hesitates, and then lobs the bag into the adjoining corridor across the hall from her door, out of sight of the security team. She straightens her uniform, takes a deep breath, and steps smartly out into the corridor, turning _towards_ the team. A few look up as she approaches, note that she is carrying nothing, and straighten to attention as they realize she's (1) at Lt. Cmdr., and (2) Security. ALBION I'm glad to see you've started so quickly. Can I offer any assistance? TEAM LEADER Thank you, ma'am, but we've got everything under control. ALBION Very well. Carry on. She turns on her heel and strides off. As soon as she rounds the corner and is out of sight of the team, she stoops to pick up the bag with the holocube and continues on to the turbolift. INT. AN'RIIKH'TA EXOBIO LAB An'riikh'ta is still unpacking; things are looking only slightly more orderly. The door chimes. AN'RIIKH'TA Please enter! Albion enters the room, the bag no longer in evidence, the holocube hidden behind her back. She smiles at the Metaakan. ALBION Hello, Lt. An'riikh'ta. AN'RIIKH'TA Lt. Cmdr. Albion. I am pleased to have you come visit my laboratory place. How may I be of assistance to you at this current time? ALBION Oh, I was just on my way down to 10-Forward and I thought I'd stop in and say hi, see how you were doing. Still unpacking, huh? AN'RIIKH'TA Yes indeed, it is a most lengthy procedure. But I am pleased to stop briefly to be hospitable to visitors such as yourself. Would you like to view some Romulan bloodroot seeds? ALBION (turning on the charm) Oh yes! I'd love to see those. If it's convenient. AN'RIIKH'TA Oh most certainly. One moment. He moves to a lab bench and starts digging though a pile of sample containers. As his back is turned, Albion scans the shelves behind him, finds an appropriate hiding place, and deposits the holocube. When An'riikh'ta turns back around, she is just standing there, smiling cheerily. He gestures to the microscope viewer as he starts to lecture: AN'RIIKH'TA The external casing of the bloodroot seeds, is you can see, is formed by a collagen lattice bonded to the epidermal underlayer... ALBION (peering into the viewer) Oh, yes, that's the greenish region? --------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT FOUR -------- INT. BRIDGE Picard is hunched in the center seat, waiting. Riker is beside him. Silence weighs heavy on the bridge, with just the blips and beeps of the consoles, until the turbo lift opens and Worf steps out on to the bridge. WORF Captain. PICARD (raising his weary head) Yes, Mr. Worf? What news? WORF We have completed scans of all data media found in new and visiting crew quarters. We detected no anomalous data patterns. Picard closes his eyes and heaves a deep sigh. Riker looks similarly disheartened. PICARD Helm, time until our arrival at Bullfinch? HELMSMAN Thirty minutes to standard orbit, sir. Picard ponders this. Pregnant pause. WORF Orders, sir? PICARD (straightens, his resolution returning) We can't give up. Not yet. Helm, standard orbit when we arrive. Computer! (chirp, twiddle) Command authority lockout of all transporters, all shuttlecraft. Authorize Picard, Jean-Luc, Captain, code six-six-four-theta-theta-three-one-nine. Confirm. COMPUTER (V.O.) All transporters, all shuttlecraft, now inoperative under command authority lockout. PICARD Mr. Worf, mobilize your entire security staff. We'll have to search the ship from stem to stern. Get on it. WORF Aye, sir. (He turns and leaves.) PICARD Number One, assemble all our Bullfinch-bound passengers in the briefing room. I'll have to explain the delay to them. RIKER Yessir. **INT. BRIEFING ROOM Albion and O'Donel and a handful of others are listening to Picard. Riker and Troi hover in the background. O'Donel stares nervously, not at any of the officers, but at the big window. PICARD ...so I'm afraid that transport to the surface will have to be delayed until we resolve the situation. (holds up his hand for silence as the group starts to complain) I know that many of you have schedules to meet, other ships to catch, and such. But we simply cannot allow anyone off the ship until the ship is searched and those materials are recovered. I'm sorry. Grumbling amongst themselves, the group stands and starts to leave. O'Donel shuffles off, morose and dejected more than anything. Albion approaches Picard, looking angry and determined. ALBION Captain. PICARD Lt. Commander. ALBION Sir, I appreciate the constraints of the situation as it stands. But Admiral Ince of Command Security is expecting me to report in from Bullfinch within the hour and commence this evaluation and review. It is a very time-critical mission, sir. PICARD I understand that, Lt. Cmdr. Albion. But we simply cannot risk any surface transportation. ALBION But sir... PICARD (getting a little peeved) The matter is closed. ALBION (anger abruptly swings to near-tears) Yes sir. (turns and stalks out) Picard gestures for Riker to follow Albion and make sure she's OK. Riker exits. Picard turns to Troi. PICARD Impressions, Counselor? TROI From Albion, anger and frustration, as I'm sure you could tell. It was a genuine reaction, although her response was slightly forced. (beat) O'Donel, I'm still not sure about. He was in a near-panic for most of the meeting... (Picard raises an eyebrow: Aha!) ...even before you explained the delay. His reaction to that news was one of despair, not panic. PICARD If not fear of capture, then, what was causing him such distress? TROI I couldn't tell, sir, but it did _not_ seem to be directed towards you or Cmdr. Riker or me. It wasn't we who were scaring him. It was... something larger, more nebulous, all-encompassing. Picard scowls in puzzlement. Troi shrugs. INT. CORRIDOR Albion is stalking along. Riker, having to jog-trot, finally catches up with her. RIKER Hey, hey, slow down. ALBION (spins around, vents her anger) That damn pompous fool. RIKER (frowning at this attack on Picard) Now wait just a second... ALBION (anger leaves her suddenly, just looks tired) I'm sorry, Will. I'm just tired and all wound up and... She puts a hand to her forehead and sags a bit, overcome by it all, and eliciting Riker's sympathy. He gives her a supportive hug. RIKER I think you just need to relax a bit. Let's go to 10-Forward and have a drink. I'll bet the transport lockout will be released within the hour. Albion smiles wearily up at him. ALBION Thanks, Will. I just want to go back to my quarters and sleep for a bit. RIKER Okay. C'mon, I'll walk you there. They proceed down the corridor. INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE ALBION'S CABIN They arrive at her door. She still looks weary. ALBION Wake me if surface transport is restored, okay? RIKER Of course. Albion pauses, plants a quick kiss on Riker's lips, and then retires to her cabin. Riker smiles his Real Wide Grin (TM) and strolls away. Moments after he disappears, Albion's door opens again and she peeks out. There is no sign of weariness or fatigue -- she is alert and intently focused. She glances both ways and takes off down the corridor at a hurried pace, two tricorder-like boxes in her hands. INT. EXOBIOLOGY LAB The room is dark -- only dim lighting lets us identify it as An'riikh'ta's lab. The door chimes. There is no response. It chimes again. Again, nothing. Then it chirps and burbles in an abnormal fashion, and the door grinds open. Albion is standing there with one of her boxes, which evidently has forced the door lock somehow. She swiftly steps into the darkened room, returning that box to her belt and turning on a hand flashlight. She steps over to the shelves where he hid the holocube and gropes around. It's not there. AN'RIIKH'TA Are you looking for your holocube, Lt. Cmdr. Albion? She spins around. The Metaakan is standing there, in the shadows, with the holocube in one hand and a phaser in the other. She steps towards him, aggressively, but he brandishes the phaser and she stops. AN'RIIKH'TA This is what Security is searching for, is it not? You hid it here so that they would not find it within your quarters, is that not so? And you wish to take it now and escape to the planet below us. Albion says nothing, just keeps glaring at An'riikh'ta. AN'RIIKH'TA (chuckles) Oh, you are thinking that I intend to report you to Mr. Worf. No, that is not what I plan. (Albion frowns in confusion) Whoever you are taking this holocube to below us on Bullfinch will want it very much, and will pay for its delivery. Will pay me. Tell me who you were to contact. (Albion gives him a "go to hell" look. He raises the phaser.) Do not tell me and I will kill you and take the holocube to Mr. Worf. I will be rewarded and you will be dead. Or tell me how to find your contact on Bullfinch, and I will stun you and you can make a story for Mr. Worf about how you tried to stop me but I escaped. Choose. He waits. She continues to stare angrily at him but then deflates. ALBION Alright. It's a complicated contact procedure. Let me write it down. AN'RIIKH'TA (gesturing with the phaser) There is a datapad on the lab bench. Albion reaches for the datapad, but instead grabs a flask of some noxious-looking chemical and hurls it at An'riikh'ta. It catches him in the face and he stumbles. Albion is on him in an instant. They struggle briefly, until Albion reaches his external brainstems and rips them off. He twitches and falls, limp, to the floor. She stands, breathing heavily, and then picks up the phaser and the holocube, and rushes from the room. INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE TRANSPORTER ROOM Albion reaches the door at a dead run. She hammers at the keypad. COMPUTER (V.O.) This transporter room in under command authority lockout. She pulls her lockpick-box from her belt and fiddles with it. The door opens. COMPUTER (V.O.) This is an unauthorized access of this facility. Cease immediately. You are in violation of Starfleet Regulations 35-12 through 35-14, 37-9, 47-23,... The computer continues to drone on as Albion goes to the control console, programs it, and moves towards the transporter pads. INT. BRIDGE Worf at tactical, Picard, Riker, and Troi in their seats. The tactical console beeps. Worf scans it. WORF Sir, we have a unauthorized access of Transporter Room 3! Your command lockout has been overridden. (pause, then with even more alarm) The transporter has been set for a single beamdown to the surface! I am attempting to abort. PICARD (perks up, but is nonchalant) At ease, Mr. Worf. (Worf and Riker and Troi all look at Picard as though he's lost his head) Do not interfere with the transport. Assemble a security team to meet us at Transporter Room 3. Number One, Counselor, will you join me? (they rise, unsure what's going on) Lt. Staalchi, you have the conn. They head for the turbolift. --------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT FIVE -------- INT. TRANSPORTER ROOM Picard, Riker, Troi, Worf stride up to closed door. Four security guards are already there, awaiting the arrival of the command delegation. One of them reports to Worf. SECURITY GUARD Sir, I've already examined the door panel. It was forced by an emergency override signal from some external source. WORF Rrrr. (a throaty growl) Phasers on stun. Standard room entry doctrine. (turns to Picard) Just to be sure, sir. Picard nods. Worf and his men draw their phasers. Worf nods to the man at the door panel. The door opens, and they burst in to the room, spreading out to cover all corners. But it is empty. WORF (from inside room) All clear, sir. PICARD (entering room with Riker and Troi) As I expected. INT. TRANSPORTER ROOM Worf is already checking the control console. Picard et al join him. WORF Beamdown coordinates were set to a populated region of the surface -- a city. There's no way we can follow him... (he picks up a comm badge from the panel) ...or track him. TROI Or her. Riker gives her a sharp look. Worf looks again at the panel, and is puzzled by something he sees there. WORF But there is a subprogram running in the transporter system. Command level alpha-one. (He looks at Picard quizzically) Yours, sir. PICARD (almost jauntily) Indeed, Mr. Worf. Deploy your people around the transporter pad. Worf nods to his security people, who surround the platform. Picard presses some buttons on the console, then issues a voice command. PICARD Computer! (chirp-twiddle) Execute retrieval routine, transporter subprogram Ariadne's Web, authorization six-nine-three- nine-nine-three-seven-five. He turns towards the transporter pad. COMPUTER Transporter transmission, intercepted at 0.672, retrieved and now rematerializing on pad 4. Albion sparkles on to the platform. She is rather distressed to notice that she's still on the Enterprise instead of on the Bullfinch surface, as she had planned. She draws her phaser and points it at Picard. The security folks, caught off guard, attempt to draw their weapons. ALBION DON'T try it! They freeze. ALBION (angry and frantic) Why the hell am I still on this ship? PICARD Command-level intercept subprogram on the transporter. You were held in the matter buffer until we arrived and retrieved you. The game is up, Lt. Cmdr. Albion. ALBION No! Beam me down. Now! Or you die. She brandishes the phaser. Picard stares at her resolutely, not at all intimidated by her threat. Riker, Troi, and Worf are somewhat less certain that they're not going to be toast. Then the door opens again and An'riikh'ta walks in, his spinal columns dangling. Albion whirls to bring the phaser to bear on this new threat, and then gapes when he realizes who it is. Everybody else in the room is pretty startled too, given the condition that the Metaakan is in, except for Picard, who smiles. PICARD Glad you could join us, Lieutenant. AN'RIIKH'TA (in a somewhat different voice than ever before) Thank you, sir. (to Albion) I suggest you put down the phaser, Lt. Commander, and surrender peacefully. Your escape attempt is indeed finished. ALBION (still very shaken) But... but... I killed you! I ripped your brainstems out! You're dead! AN'RIIKH'TA Your conclusion is predicated on the assumption that I am an actual Metakkan. That is not the case. Data removes his Metaakan disguise. Jaws drop all over the room, then spreading grins as Troi, Riker, and Worf catch on to the whole scheme. PICARD Welcome back, Mr. Data. Data nods acknowledgement to Picard, and then approaches Albion, who is staring madly at him. He reaches out to take the phaser. Albion suddenly comes out of her shock and smiles coldly at him. ALBION Goodbye, Mr. Data. She fires the phaser at his head. It beeps dully and does nothing. Albion presses the trigger again and again, with no result. DATA I took the precaution of disabling that phaser before your arrival at the exobiology lab. Albion realizes she's been totally outfoxed, and hurls the useless phaser at Data. He catches it easily and continues to affix her with his yellow stare. Worf moves up beside Data and gestures to his security crew, who take Albion into custody and march her off the pad. As she is led out, she looks hopefully at Riker, but there is no sympathy in his expression. She looks at Troi; Troi looks more smug than anything. Albion, Worf, and Security exit the room. INT. BRIEFING ROOM The whole command crew is now present, Data having shed the rest of his disguise. Debriefing is underway. DATA I had reached StarBase 111 en route to the Daystrom Institute when I was intercepted by a representative of Starfleet Counter-Intelligence, who briefed me on the data theft and CI's expectation that the spy was joining the Enterprise. They urged me to return here immediately to assist in the investigative effort, but I proposed this alternative plan, based upon a fictional work with which I am familiar. I am most gratified that the strategem was as effective in actuality as it was in the novel. RIKER But how could you be sure that Albion would choose your laboratory to hide her holocube? PICARD Well, Number One, we _weren't_ sure. We did our best, however, to make "Lt. An'riikh'ta" appear an ideal pawn to all of the other three suspects, and then force him or her into action via the cabin searches. Fortunately, Lt. Cmdr. Albion took the bait. She figured that An'riikh'ta's lab would serve as a safe hiding place, at least until we reached Bullfinch IV, and that his apparent naivete would make him unsuspicious of her visit to his lab. (beat) Mr. Data played the role of a wide- eyed "country bumpkin" to perfection. Albion apparently never suspected that he might be other than he seemed. CRUSHER (shaking her head in amazement) Nor did we. An impressive bit of acting, Data. I'll expect you to try out for the lead of our next play. DATA Thank you, Doctor, although had I been called upon to assume a more human guise, I would have found it much more difficult. Since few, if any, of the Enterprise crew had even met a Metaakan, I had considerable leeway in the parameters of my masquerade. (beat, we looks slightly apologetic) I regret that I had to keep my identity secret from all but the Captain. Counter-Intelligence Command was of the opinion, however, that I would be most effective if I were fully... "undercover." LAFORGE But once Data found the holocube, wouldn't that have been enough to identify the spy? PICARD Perhaps. But Starfleet wanted to insure a watertight case. We thought it best to apprehend the spy red-handed, in the act of beaming down over a command lockout. CRUSHER What about Specialist O'Donel? Since we're now sure he's not the spy, why has been exhibiting such levels of apprehension? LAFORGE Judging from what he said and how he was behaving in the hydroponics lab, I'd say he's scared of something outside the ship. TROI Or perhaps nothing outside the ship. (Laforge and others look at her quizzically) During his entire time on the Enterprise, he's stayed in his cabin, or locations deep inside the ship, like the hydroponics bay. He's avoided 10-Forward, and been highly agitated when summoned to the Captain's Ready Room and here, to the briefing room. WORF (catching the gist of Troi's observations) Locations which all have external viewports. TROI Exactly. As an archeologist, he'd been rooted in the solid ground his whole life. I think he's scared by the concept of being surrounded by empty space. Nods around the table. Sounds eminently plausible. PICARD And Lt. Sralev? LAFORGE Oh, he's still plugging away down in Engineering. Those "notes" he's been storing in the computer? He turned them over to me just a short while ago, and that's exactly what they are. He's generated at least a quad and a half of "suggestions" for computer modifications to the Enterprise systems. Some pretty clever ideas, too. But no defense plans. PICARD Well. I believe that covers everything. Any last points? (no response) Very well. Dismissed. All stand and head for the door. Worf is just in front of Data. As Worf reaches the doorway, he turns and glares at Data. WORF My liver?!?! He grunts disgustedly and stalks off. Data exchanges a look with Troi, raises his eyebrows in an expression of mild chagrin, and then exits and well. Troi smiles widely and exits. FADE OUT END OF ACT FIVE ------------------- Some notes: - The "fictional work" that Data alludes to in the last scene is the final confrontation between Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty, which takes place at Reichenbach Falls in the Austrian Alps. Go read the story, and the parallels with this script should be apparent. - Had this episode been filmed, I'd have suggested to Paramount that they snip Brent Spiner (Data) from the opening credits, and list "Ernst Perbin" as a guest star playing An'riikh'ta. -- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Bradford B. Behr bbbehr@sunspot.sunspot.noao.edu Sacramento Peak National Solar Observatory, Sunspot NM 88349 ----------------------------------------------------------------------