“Are you suggesting that I am not relaxed?”
“Anything but, Data,” Geordi said apologetically. “You remind me a little of a puppy who tries too hard to learn the tricks right. When you get one right, you ignore your accomplishment and go along to the next one, and when you get one even a little wrong, you browbeat yourself to death.”
Data looked intently at his friend. “If you knew this flaw in my behavior, why did you not bring it to my attention before now?”
“Because it’s not a flaw, Data, it’s a personality quirk, and if you took away all our personality quirks, there wouldn’t be any quaint human mannerisms for you to copy. Besides, you wouldn’t have listened to me before now.”
“Why not? Have I not always given due consideration to your advice?”
“Yeah, mostly.” Geordi sighed. Geordi did a lot of sighing when he talked to Data. “But you always listen to the words and not their meaning. I couldn’t tell you before because you weren’t ready.” Geordi changed the subject. “Data, don’t you feel some kind of kinship with the other androids?”
“Yes, I do, Geordi. I have found a strong affinity exists between us.”
“I thought so. And there isn’t anything wrong with that. As a matter of fact, I encourage it. As entertaining and enlightening as my own company is, I think spending a little time with some folks built along the same lines as you would do you good. Your problem right now is that you’ve discovered yourself to be a swan among ducks.”
“Idiom?”
“Check Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales. ‘The Ugly Duckling.’ ”
Information whizzed through Data’s brain as he recalled the story. He absorbed it in an instant, and brightened as he grasped the significance. “Ah, I see. You are using the story as an allegory paralleling my own situation. The ducklings represent humanity, and the Vemlan androids are represented by the swan community. I am placed in the role of the misplaced swan hatchling who is mistaken for a duckling chick and treated with disrespect because of the mistaken impression,” he said, with an air of satisfaction. “Interesting.”
“You’ve been looking in the mirror and seeing what an ugly human you were. For the first time, you can look into the mirror and see what a beautiful android you are. I think you’re a little scared. I certainly would be, in your place.”
“Interesting,” Data repeated. He seemed to find the insight useful. “Although I am not certain the term scared is appropriate, I believe I understand your assessment of my condition. So you believe the Vemlan androids are my people.”
“In a way,” Geordi conceded; there was no reason to get his mechanical friend overly excited about newfound relations. “Consider them distant third cousins, twice removed, or something like that. But Data?”
“Yes, Geordi?”
“Don’t forget that I’m your friend. No matter what. Nothing you can do or say can lose you my friendship. And the people on board this ship—they’re your family, too. Whatever else happens, you can’t mess that up.”
Data smiled, a rare but special occasion. “I will not forget, Geordi. You are my best friend.”
“I know of no such authority, Captain Picard,” said the image of Jared. “He has no jurisdiction over my ship.”
“He seems quite insistent, Captain Jared,” replied Picard, quietly but urgently. He was in the ready room, another cup of tea by his elbow. For this conversation he needed to think without all of the interruptions and distractions of the bridge. He decided he had made a wise choice; the conversation thus far had been a reiteration of innocence and a total denial of any wrongdoing. Jared and the androids had their story and they seemed to be sticking to it. “He hasn’t said so yet, but his manner showed that he would be willing to recapture your vessel by force.”
“An outrage,” said the android captain instantly, with an edge in his voice. “The worst sort of piracy. If he attempts to do so, we will have no choice but to defend ourselves. You may tell him that.”
“Perhaps. He also accused you and your crew of appropriating the Freedom, which he called the Conquest, without the permission or knowledge of her owners.”
“An outright lie, Captain,” Jared said, his face becoming even more intense. “Android labor built this ship, android brains designed it, and android hands launched it. We are its rightful owners.”
“I see.” Picard decided to pursue another tack. “Force Commander Sawliru claims to be from the planet Vemla, which you said was destroyed. Would you care to explain?”
Jared shook his head. “I said devastated, not destroyed, Captain. We chose not to try to rebuild because we felt we were unequal to the task. There are not very many of us.”
Picard was becoming impatient, though he had the diplomacy not to show it. “I confess I find this tangle of stories, of fact and fiction and biased point of view, quite confusing, Captain. We rendered you aid in good faith, and though we ask nothing in return, I would appreciate honest answers to my questions. Sawliru spoke of other crimes, and made other accusations. It might be necessary for me to take action here, and I cannot do so without knowing the facts!”
“You would offer us protection?” asked the android.
“If the occasion merited it, yes, it would be my responsibility to take action to protect your ship. But there is no way I can make that decision if I do not know the facts!” Picard said, frustrated. “Force Commander Sawliru is in possession of considerable force. I would offer the services of this ship, as an agent of the United Federation of Planets, to independently and peacefully arbitrate this dispute.”
Jared frowned. “My people and I would be taking an awfully big chance on your good faith, Picard,” he warned.
“We have dealt in good faith. We will not change our policy,” Picard vowed.
Jared continued to look uneasy, despite Picard’s assurances. “Captain, you have a superior ship. Dren hasn’t stopped talking about it. From what he told me, you could ward off ten fleets the size of Sawliru’s. If you chose to defend us, we would undoubtedly be safe. Yet though I am in command, I cannot make any assurances on behalf of my crew. You must understand that we have been through . . . much. We are the last of our kind, and we will fight to defend ourselves. Against Sawliru, and yes, against the Enterprise, however ineffectual conflict would be. We have been betrayed before.” The glare in Jared’s eyes flashed a stern warning.
“Understood, Captain,” he responded, firmly. “I simply want to see the truth come out. Perhaps if the three of us—myself, you, and Sawliru—got together to talk . . .”
“Sawliru?” asked the other captain, astonished. “You expect me to sit down with the man who accuses me of piracy?”
“It is the only way I will even consider the matter of protection,” he insisted. “I want to hear all points of view on neutral territory, the Enterprise.”
“You guarantee safe conduct?” he asked suspiciously.
“You have my word,” Picard said, fixing the android with a steely stare of his own. “You shall come and go under my personal protection.”
There was a long pause. “Then I shall be there,” the android said, and abruptly disconnected the transmission. Picard sighed, and finding his tea untouched and lukewarm, drained it in one swallow.
One down, one to go, he thought, as he poured another. He didn’t enjoy this political maneuvering, but he realized that it was a vital part of his job. Starfleet was a service organization, and part of that service was getting conflicting parties together to work out their differences with words, not with weapons. It was a maddening task, and usually doomed from the start, but rarely did anything bad come out of such negotiations. He hoped this would be one of those times where a difference of opinion could be addressed peacefully. He took a sip of tea while he put through a call to Force Commander Sawliru, with whom he would have to go through the entire process from the beginning.
Chapter Six
THE ATMOSPHERE IN THE conference room was tense, Picard noted
, but that was neither unusual nor unexpected in a case like this. It had taken him nearly an hour of haggling over the particulars, but the Vemlan navy had agreed to send a delegation to the impromptu peace conference. Of course, Worf had informed him that the fleet had arrayed itself in a strongly defensive formation, but Picard had expected that, after talking with Sawliru. The Force Commander was a military man, evidently on a military mission, and took no chances. He also, Picard expected, wanted to strut his fleet a little bit in front of both the androids and the Enterprise.
The captain sat at the head of the table in a position of neutral authority. To his left was a refreshed and relaxed Counselor Troi; he relied on Deanna for much, and desperately needed her insight on the positions of the conflicting parties. Successfully deceiving Deanna was almost impossible, he knew, and this was an occasion where it seemed to be vital to get the truth out in the open.
Past Deanna on the left sat the android delegation, Jared and Kurta. Maran had beamed over as well, but she was enjoying a much less stressful conversation with Commander Data in Ten-Forward. Picard had been informed about Data’s rendezvous and made a mental note to keep an eye on his second officer.
The visiting androids were dressed in their usual tan coveralls, colored bandoliers of rank strapped across their torsos. Picard sensed that both were trying to present a casual, confident face for the event—though Jared retained his belligerent and impervious manner. But they also seemed quietly nervous to him.
He found the delegation from the Vemlan navy, on the other hand, confident, cool, and collected. Getting Sawliru to agree to the conference had been only slightly less difficult; the man seemed willing to participate in preliminary discussion, even if only to investigate the Starfleet vessel. Sawliru had arrived via personal shuttle (he would not consent to an “alien” transporter beam) with a middle-aged woman he treated with extreme deference.
Introduced as Mission Commander Alkirg, the diplomatic head of the navy, she wore a formal yellow gown, with jewelry that hung from her neck, ears, hair, and gown in an effective, if gaudy, display of wealth. Her hands were sheathed in long yellow gloves and wore them as if they were for protection from infection as much as for style. Overall, she had an aristocratic, patrician air about her which reminded Picard of the worst sorts of politicians—those who felt innately superior, those whose minds could not be swayed by the most rational of arguments.
In these circumstances, that made him more than a little nervous.
He had sensed a little anxiousness in her voice as they exchanged pleasantries, though she seemed well in command of the situation—and in command of Sawliru. It was obvious to Picard that the outcome of this conference was important to her.
The captain had personally escorted each party to the conference room and, before beginning the talks, had checked with Worf, who had done an unobtrusive tricorder scan on each of them. He was not surprised to learn that each member had concealed a personal weapon of some sort about them. He wasn’t troubled by the fact; he had dealt with negotiations between well-armed hostile parties before, and was confident in his ability to handle any situation that might arise. He did, however, have Worf post a pair of security guards in the corridor outside.
He smiled warmly, his best conference smile, and began.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard the Enterprise. I hope we can find a resolution here—”
“You can start,” interrupted Alkirg coldly, “by having those . . . things stand in our presence.”
Jared laughed—a harsh, unpleasant sound. “That will be the day,” he said.
The combatants were off to a fast start, Picard sighed to himself.
“Both parties are present as equals aboard this ship,” Picard calmly explained. “I don’t know the customs of your homeworld, but here the matter of protocol exists at my whim. Everyone will remain seated for the duration of the conference.”
“Very well, Captain,” Sawliru said, halting a hot reply from Alkirg with a sharp glance. “We are ready to begin.” There were curt, answering nods from the androids.
“Very well. Force Commander Sawliru, if you would be so kind as to repeat what you told me earlier about your mission.”
“Certainly, Captain,” the thin, hawk-faced man said. He took a deep breath, and began speaking. “I was ordered by the Vemlan Council to seek out and capture a group of androids accused, among other crimes, of disobeying orders and stealing the freighter ship Conquest. I was placed in command of a fleet of eight vessels and ordered to proceed along the Conquest’s trajectory.
“We tracked the ship to the Hevaride system, where we detected traces of its passage. In a surprise and unprovoked attack, the Conquest appeared from within an asteroid node and completely destroyed the Vemlan navy ship Avenger. She also traded shots with the Nemesis and the Vindicator. Several of my crew were killed. We lost track of her after that, and only found traces of her again after the probability storm.”
Kurta shifted restlessly and caught Jared’s eye. The android captain didn’t move a muscle, Picard noted, but his wife’s expression spoke volumes. She looked as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar—interesting. Then he could assume that at least part of the Force Commander’s story was true.
“What orders are the crew of the ship in question accused of disobeying?” he asked.
“The list is too long to repeat completely here, Captain,” the Force Commander said, calmly. “I think that the most pertinent one would be the act of leading a genocidal war against all human life on Vemla.”
Jared was on his feet at once, fury in his eyes, his index finger stabbing accusingly at the military man.
“Sawliru,” he said quietly but strongly, “you are as good a liar as ever.”
“Calm yourself, Jared,” the Force Commander said, seemingly unaffected by the display. “We are simply talking here. And I, for one, think it’s time that we revealed our little secret, don’t you?”
Jared remained stubbornly on his feet. “You walk in here after slaying hundreds of thousands of my people and dare accuse me of leading a war of genocide? Your hypocrisy astounds me!” he said, his head lifted proudly.
“Facts are facts, Jared,” the Force Commander said, menacingly. “You should know them better than I. You killed millions in an attempt to wipe your creators out. We are not here to discuss my alleged moral shortcomings, we are here to discuss your surrender.” Sawliru’s low, even monotone sent a chill up Picard’s back.
“Jared, you will sit,” Picard commanded in a low but firm voice. Jared waited for a few moments, staring deeply at his antagonist, before he retook his chair. His eyes never left the Force Commander’s.
Once the android was seated, Picard took a deep breath, and began to address the Force Commander’s words.
“Are you serious in this accusation, Force Commander?”
The smaller man took a rectangle of plastic from his belt. “If your computers can display this image, I think it will bear me out.”
Picard nodded, and took the square. He placed it on the scanning console in front of him. A large screen at the end of the room lit up, as the computer deciphered the alien information and converted it into something a little more digestible to its subsidiary systems.
The Force Commander rose with a respectful nod to Picard, and walked over to the display. He looked at it for a few moments, as if seeing it for the first time and viewing it as art.
The picture was unmistakably that of Jared, his face twisted in a grimace of pure rage. He was wearing a brown coverall that was ripped and burnt in places. A wide bloodstain covered his chest, almost a parody of the sash of command he wore. In his hands was an evil-looking black weapon from which smoke and flames spewed forth. It was a perfect picture, almost as if he had posed for it. The expression could not have been affected; such raw ferocity, Picard felt, can only come from the bowels of the soul.
The Force Commander turned to the rest of the assembled after he
had let the feeling of the image sink in. “This is a view of Alpha Class Android Jared, taken at the massacre on the steps of the Great Assembly building, two months after his escape from the gaming arena. Over seven hundred unarmed civilians were killed in a lightning raid by twenty-four rogue androids, led by this same unit.” He turned to the captain. “This is what you have let aboard your vessel, Captain Picard. A death machine.”
Jared’s eyes never left the Force Commander, and it was only Kurta’s hand on his arm that restrained him from doing immediate violence.
“Do you deny this?” the military leader asked, almost pleasantly. Picard could detect a trace of enjoyment in his voice, something that went beyond pure devotion to duty. Did the Force Commander have a personal vendetta, he wondered?
“I deny nothing,” Jared said, harshly. “But aren’t you telling only one side of the story, Sawliru?”
“There is only one story to tell. I will leave the full story of the war to be told by Mission Commander Alkirg,” he said, indicating his associate and nominal superior.
The woman bowed her head in acknowledgment, and turned to the Starfleet officers, purposefully placing the androids outside of her field of vision.
“Our people have a turbulent background, Captain,” she explained. “Vemla has been plagued by wars and death and destruction. Up until three hundred years ago, we were a number of warring continental nation-states, looking threateningly down at each other over our common moats, the oceans. We spent vast sums of resources on weapons of defense and offense while many of our people went hungry and cold.” Alkirg looked up at Picard, her gaze cold and unsympathetic. “We were barbarians.
“Then the Saren contacted our planet. They traded much valuable alien technology to us, as well as the knowledge that we were not alone in the universe. They sold us machines we wouldn’t have had the knowledge to build for another thousand years and gave us technical information on a million different subjects. We paid dearly for the information, for we intended to use the advanced learning to create yet more sophisticated ways to kill our neighbors. It was a frightening, terrifying time.
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