Hearts and Minds

by Dayton Ward

  Was it possible that a forerunner to Section 31 was responsible for the calamity visited upon the Eizand? Might such a group, perhaps born out of genuine concern for the safety of Earth and operating with autonomy and anonymity, grow over time to become so corrupted that it undertook the sort of horrific preemptive action inflicted upon the Eizand, for whatever reason? The answer to that question was too troubling to contemplate.

  And yet, it’s not impossible, or even out of the question.

  The sound of the holding cell’s door unlocking made everyone rise from their benches. Picard could sense the anticipation, particularly from Lieutenant Braddock and Glinn Dygan, both of whom seemed ready to pounce at the first opportunity. Despite their enthusiasm, he doubted that, even with their Starfleet unarmed combat training, they could take a guard detail that likely was prepared for just such a situation.

  “At ease, gentlemen,” he cautioned. “If they’d wanted to harm us, they could have done so by now.”

  Tell that to Lieutenant T’Sona.

  The door opened outward without benefit of automation, doubtless to prevent accidental breaching in the event of a power loss, and a tall, thin Eizand male wearing the uniform of a Tevent Coalition soldier entered the room. Picard recognized him as Janotra, the soldier in charge of this facility’s guard detachment. He was followed by five more soldiers dressed in similar fashion, and each of them had unlimbered sidearms from their holsters. While the other five moved into a protective formation around Janotra, he eyed Picard. His weapon’s muzzle was pointed at the floor.

  “Captain, I have been ordered to escort you to Presider Hilonu.”

  “Where are you taking him?” asked Braddock, taking a step forward and earning a stern glare from the soldier.

  “As you were, Lieutenant.” Picard’s sharp command was enough to halt the security officer, who looked to him and nodded in acknowledgment. Turning his attention to the guards, the captain raised his hands. “I’ll go with you without trouble. There’s no need for this to be any more unpleasant than it already is.”

  “Captain,” said Chen, but did not continue when Picard eyed her. Instead, she nodded in silent understanding.

  “You’re in charge, Lieutenant Elfiki,” he said, proceeding at Janotra’s direction from the holding cell into the long, stone corridor. With the cell door once more secured, the Eizand guard made a simple gesture for Picard to begin walking. No further words were exchanged, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

  Now what?

  • • •

  “Valmiki Goswami. Meredith Harper. Park Ji-hu. You have been charged with committing wanton acts of aggression against this planet and all of the Eizand people. You represent a race of beings that can only be deemed a threat to our very existence, and we are compelled to act in defense of our world and to seek justice for the uncounted millions of Eizand who have perished through direct result of your actions. After hearing your testimony and weighing the evidence presented against you, this tribunal has found you guilty. Punishment for your heinous crimes is death, and sentence is to be carried out immediately without delay or reprieve.”

  There could be no mistaking the fear and defeat on the faces of the three humans as they stood alone on a raised podium before a stone wall. Picard heard a low murmur like the muted voices from an audience somewhere nearby, but no one else was visible on the recording. All three were bound by cables or chains that kept them standing against the wall.

  The humans, two males and a female, wore what Picard guessed were standard jumpsuits or flight suits common to Earth astronauts of the early to mid-twenty-first century. Each garment was adorned with different patches and other markings, including a simple white stripe over the left breast pocket, with the wearer’s last name rendered in English. One of the males, who appeared to be of Indian descent and whose name tag identified him as Goswami, looked around as though searching for someone or something, but there was a lethargy to his movements that suggested he might be drugged. His companions exhibited similar behavior. None of them spoke, or so much as lifted their heads in a final expression or remark of defiance.

  A row of six soldiers stepped into view. Their clothing was different and yet evocative of the uniforms now worn by members of the Tevent Coalition military. Knowing what he was about to witness, Picard wanted to look away, but forced his gaze to remain locked on the screen. The three humans, as though realizing for the first time that their end was at hand, began to shift in their restraints, but there was no way for them to escape. Each of the approaching soldiers wielded a long-barreled rifle. Someone still not visible on the screen issued a sharp, military-style command that Picard could not understand, and all of the soldiers raised their weapons to aim at one of the humans. He tried to brace himself for what was about to occur, but there was no time for that as each member of the execution detail fired in unison, their weapons unleashing hellish streams of bright crimson energy. Two beams struck each of the humans in the torso, and their bodies convulsed in the face of what was obviously a brutal assault. Goswami remained silent, though the woman and the other man cried out in agony as the beams continued to tear and burn their flesh and clothing. Over the sound of the rifle reports, Picard heard the low rumble of the audience, and—though he was not certain—he thought it was approval.

  The vile display lasted for several seconds before the soldiers reacted to another voice command and ceased fire. Against the wall, the tortured remains of all three humans, their skin and clothes scorched almost beyond recognition, hung limp in their restraints, and Picard felt his gorge rise as he saw wisps of smoke rising from the ravaged bodies. The sounds from the unseen audience were growing now, along with Picard’s anger, and he almost flinched when the mounting noise stopped as the image halted.

  “In hindsight, it was a barbaric form of execution, having evolved over generations from methods that were even more heinous. Fortunately, we discontinued the practice soon after this incident. Capital punishment is now a much more humane means of dealing with those deserving of such harsh penalties. Thankfully, it is a rare occurrence. I suppose you might call that progress, after a fashion.”

  Picard turned from the screen and its haunting image to face Presider Hilonu, who stood on the far side of the windowless, bland circular room in which he had been brought from the holding cell. She was dressed in a simple maroon gown that covered her from neck to feet, and one of her long, thin hands still rested on the control pad set into the wall behind her. Near the door leading from the room, a pair of soldiers stood in silence, hands resting on holstered weapons and watching Picard’s every movement.

  “My people once embraced similar forms of justice,” he said, “though we too learned that it was not an effective deterrent. It seemed only to serve a need for vengeance, and we eventually did away with the practice altogether.”

  Hilonu stepped away from the control pad. “In time, I can see our people taking a similar path. A significant portion of the population is already in favor of such a change, which I honestly find heartening.”

  In time, Picard thought. But not yet.

  “I do wish to thank you,” he said. “My people and I have been treated with care and respect.”

  Moving to stand just beyond an arm’s length from him, the Eizand leader clasped her hands before her. “I would like nothing more than for that treatment to continue, Captain, but a great deal of that decision rests on your shoulders. I need to show that your people admit to and regret the actions taken against our world. All Eizand must see justice for the harm inflicted upon them.”

  “I assure you that I do regret what happened here, Presider. What I cannot say with any honesty is that I understand it. I don’t know why the action was taken or who was responsible.” Picard nodded back toward the screen, though kept himself from taking in the paused image. “However, I can see to it that an investigation takes place. If we can identify those people, we may be able to learn where they came from and who sent them here
.”

  Hilonu said, “Is it your assertion that these criminals were not human?”

  “I can’t assert anything of the sort without evidence or more information.” Pausing, Picard drew a breath while collecting his thoughts and trying to plot a course of action. “What was done with their bodies?”

  “Like your Lieutenant T’Sona, they were reduced to ashes and placed in ceremonial vessels. For a time, they were displayed in one of our museums that chronicled the war. As you might imagine, the exhibits detailing the conflict’s beginnings are of great interest.” Hilonu’s gaze shifted to the screen. “I suspect those events will receive even more attention and study, given your arrival.”

  Picard said, “If we could have access to those remains, we might be able to identify them using records in my ship’s computer or information available to me from my superiors. We can solve this mystery, Presider, for all time.”

  “Are you not afraid of what your efforts might reveal?”

  “I do not fear the truth, Presider. If Earth was responsible for inciting the war that engulfed your planet, then the Federation will want to do everything in its power to see that tragic wrong is corrected. Indeed, we are willing to render assistance now, regardless of the circumstances. All I request is the opportunity to answer the questions you’ve posed for generations.”

  For the first time since entering the room, Hilonu smiled. “As I told you before, Captain, I find it easy to trust you, and I take comfort in your words. It is obvious that what you have seen here troubles you, and I sense a genuine desire to help us. That is comforting, to a point, but I hope you can understand my position. I am bound by a duty to seek justice in this matter not just for the Tevent Coalition, but all the Eizand people.” As she spoke, Picard noted that the anger that had threatened to seize her during their last meeting was absent, replaced by worry and even a hint of resignation.

  “Because of that duty, I am compelled to act in accordance with our laws. You will stand trial, Captain, and answer for the crimes of your planet.”

  20

  U.S.S. Enterprise

  2386

  I don’t care what the doctors say. Bionic eyes can get tired.

  Leaning back in his chair behind the desk in his small office, Geordi La Forge rubbed his temples, sighing at the momentary sensation of relief. He knew that it was not the ocular implants serving as his eyes that gave him discomfort, at least not by themselves. Instead, fatigue along with hunger and worry was conspiring to make him feel as though his efforts to this point were fruitless. How long had he been at this? Three, maybe four hours? He had spent that time working alone as well as with members of his staff, in an effort to understand the Eizand weapons technology that had sent the Enterprise running away from Sralanya with its tail tucked between its legs.

  Or its warp core tucked between its nacelles. Whatever. Not that it matters. Three or four hours later, and we’re nowhere. Good job, Mister Chief Engineer.

  Closing his eyes, La Forge listened to the low, gentle thrum of the Enterprise’s warp engines, which despite all manner of sound dampening systems was still audible anywhere on the ship. It was most pronounced here, mere steps away from the heart of the vessel’s central power source. Years of starship duty had long ago inoculated him to the ever present drone, and he even became uneasy on those rare occasions when the warp core was inactive and the ship took on an unnatural silence. Only with the immense power plant on line and functioning normally could La Forge feel at ease. In fact, if he dimmed the lights and sat here long enough, tucked away in the relative privacy of his office with his eyes closed, he might very well be able to drift off to—

  “Bridge to Commander La Forge.”

  Lurching himself upright in his chair, La Forge opened his eyes at the sound of Worf’s voice booming through the ship’s intercom.

  “La Forge here. I know why you’re calling.” Rising from his seat, the chief engineer moved around his desk and exited his office into the main engineering area. All around the massive chamber, members of his staff were hard at work, monitoring various workstations along the bulkheads or near the large, pulsating cylinder that was the Enterprise’s warp core. “I can’t say I have much new to report, Commander. We’re still dealing with the effects of that last bout with the Eizand weapons. Until we come up with a way to defend against them, I can’t recommend taking the ship back to the planet. The only thing I see working is destroying the satellites before they can get close enough to do us any more harm. Of course, we know there are people on some of those things.” Sensors had already revealed that while most of the orbiting constructs were automated, more than a dozen were larger and contained small numbers of Eizand, with the satellites functioning more like space stations than remotely controlled drones.

  “I have considered that,” replied the first officer. “However, Captain Picard would not want me to take such action except as a last resort, if for no other reason than to avoid casualties. For the moment, I am prepared to entertain less extreme options. Can we lower the intensity of our phasers?”

  Reaching the master systems display table in the center of the engineering section’s primary work area, La Forge leaned over the console, resting his hands atop its smooth black surface. “I thought about that, and I’ve already looked into it. The problem is, the ship’s phasers are powerful enough that setting them to not destroy the satellites outright also drops their effectiveness to the point that they wouldn’t incapacitate the EMP generators. I’m still looking for a workaround. Another problem is that we really don’t know what kind of range those pulse generators have. I’m willing to bet it’s more than what we need to get into transporter range.” He tapped the tabletop interface, and the table’s array of status displays and data readouts flared to life. It took him only a moment to get up to date on the current status of every major shipboard system.

  “Worf, we’re still not fully recovered from that last attack. Shield generators are only back to eighty-five percent, and I’m putting the warp core through a level-two diagnostic. I’m worried about the power fluctuations we got last time. If we go back in there and the warp core is disabled, we’ll be in serious trouble.”

  Having been forced to leave orbit around Sralanya to escape the Eizand energy weapons, the Enterprise was now far enough from the planet that obtaining sensor locks on the away team was all but impossible thanks to the distance. Unless or until La Forge and his team could craft a miracle to defeat or at least mitigate the effects of the energy weapons, taking the ship back to Sralanya was fraught with risk. Under other circumstances, it might well be a chance worth taking, but La Forge knew that there were larger concerns, not just with the away team but also any potential relations between the Eizand people and the Federation. If there was a peaceful solution to this situation, the captain would be expecting his crew to find it before resorting to less polite methods.

  “Understood. Do you have an estimate for completing your research?”

  Sighing, La Forge replied, “At this point, I honestly don’t know. Let’s say two hours. I know that’s not what you want to hear. We’re doing everything we can to figure this out. I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Acknowledged. Worf out.”

  The connection closed, leaving La Forge to contemplate his report. Two hours, tacked on to the time he had already spent working this problem, seemed like an eternity. He knew it had to feel that way for Worf, who was dealing with this issue and everything else that had spun out of the developments with the away team’s detention on the surface. The first officer’s anxiety would only be heightened by not knowing the whereabouts or condition of Captain Picard and the others. The Klingon would be stewing over being out of touch with the captain, given that he had likely protested Picard’s decision to lead the away team. Diplomatic protocol and the need to offer positive initial impressions aside, such duties were the purview of the first officer, which Worf was not prone to shirk. La Forge knew without doubt that his friend
was questioning his own decision not to push the point with Picard, and now was blaming himself for what had happened down on the planet.

  The longer this takes, the angrier Worf’s going to be. We need to get on with solving this thing.

  “Commander.”

  Looking up from the systems display table, La Forge was surprised to see Taurik standing several steps away, hands behind his back and wearing his uniform as though it were any other duty day.

  Except that today was most certainly not like any other duty day.

  “Taurik,” said the chief engineer, holding up his hand, “what are you doing? You know you’re not supposed to be down here.”

  The Vulcan nodded. “Yes, sir. However, given the unusual circumstances that have arisen and with the captain off the ship, I felt it prudent to offer my assistance to solving the technical issues we are facing.”

  Stepping around the table, La Forge said, “Look, I get it, and damn if I don’t appreciate your initiative, because in all honesty we could use you, but the captain’s orders are still in effect even when he’s not aboard the ship.” La Forge had been as surprised as anyone upon hearing that Picard had relieved Taurik of duty and confined him to quarters. There had been no explanation, which was certainly the captain’s prerogative, but even that act was outside Picard’s normal behavior. Whatever had riled the captain to this degree, La Forge did not see countermanding his orders as a wise course, regardless of the current situation. “Have you cleared this with Worf?”

  Taurik replied, “The commander has been consumed with his duties since the captain’s departure and the subsequent developments on the planet’s surface. Therefore, I felt it inappropriate to disturb him.”

  Reaching up to rub his forehead, La Forge said, “Taurik, I don’t understand everything that went on between you and the captain, but I know it has something to do with orders you got from Admiral Akaar and Starfleet Command. Worf told me that much. Whatever it is that’s made Captain Picard mad at you, I promise you that disobeying his orders is not the way to get back in his good graces. As for Worf, if he finds out you went against those orders, he’ll be angrier at you than the captain.”