Picard tapped his combadge. “Computer, locate Commander Cortin Zweller.”
“Commander Cortin Zweller is in the main shuttlebay,” the computer responded.
During the flight back to the Enterprise,Riker had mentioned Zweller’s propensity for cloak‑and‑dagger behavior. For a split second, he feared that Corey might be trying to flee the ship.
“Computer, is anyone with Commander Zweller?”
“Commander Zweller is with Commander Riker and Lieutenant Commander La Forge.”
Batanides approached Picard and spoke quietly. “At least we know he’s staying put. I think we ought to go to the shuttlebay and ask him for some details about what he saw down on Chiaros IV.”
“I quite agree,” Picard said quietly. “Then we can return to the problem of whether we can repatriate a guest whose government wants to murder him.” He nodded toward Grelun.
Suddenly, the Chiarosan began to move, as though roused by the captain’s words. His crystalline eyes fluttered open, darted quickly about the room, and locked with Picard’s. One of his large, bronzed hands reached upward toward Crusher, who backed away as Lynch and the other security officers drew their phasers. The forcefield restraints crackled against Grelun’s biceps and thighs, forcing him back against the table. He struggled again, this time throwing his body into the forcefield.
Through it all, his gaze never wavered from Picard’s.
“He’s going to kill himself if he keeps that up,” Crusher said. Moving with a dancer’s quickness, she emptied a hypospray into one of the Chiarosan’s treelike calves.
As he began slipping back into unconsciousness, Grelun whispered three clearly‑articulated syllables. From the shocked expressions on the other faces in the room, Picard knew instantly that he had heard the Chiarosan correctly, and that Batanides and Crusher had as well. No one else spoke for a long moment.
Finally, Batanides broke the silence. “Well, that certainly complicates things, Jean‑Luc.”
Picard nodded gently. “It changes everything.” But at least I’m no longer bound by law to hand this man over to his executioners, regardless of how the vote turns out.
“News travels fast on Chiaros IV,” Batanides said. “How do you think those people will react when they learn that a Starfleet captain has decided to harbor a known terrorist on the Federation’s flagship?”
Picard’s voice turned to sandpaper. “It won’t be pretty. But my duty under both interstellar law and Starfleet regulations is clear. Grelun will receive Federation protection pending a full investigation of Falhain’s allegations against Ruardh’s government. Referendum or no referendum.”
His options were sharply limited the moment the rebel leader had uttered a single word, the first he had spoken since coming aboard:
Asylum.
Chapter Eleven
Picard and Batanides entered the main shuttlebay, which currently held a pair of type‑9 personnel shuttlecraft in the flight deck, though neither was powered up at the moment. No other officers were present on the deck, which was as Picard had expected; at Batanides’s request, he had ordered the shuttlebay cleared. Apart from the two shuttles, the cavernous hangar was seemingly empty. Their footfalls reverberated loudly across the deck.
The Romulan scout ship was nowhere to be seen, which was also as Picard expected; it was cloaked, also at the admiral’s request.
Picard deplored having to take these sorts of precautions, but he understood their occasional necessity. During the trip back to the Enterprise,Batanides had made it clear to Commander Roget that his officers weren’t to speak to anyone about the scoutship. Given the fragile complexities of Chiarosan geopolitics, Picard thought her mandate for discretion was probably the wisest course. And despite his reticence about illegally operating a cloaking device, Picard nevertheless thought it prudent to give the Romulan vessel as low a profile as possible while it was aboard the Enterprise.
Picard tapped his combadge. “Number One, two to beam aboard the scoutship.”
“Acknowledged, Captain,” came the reply.
A moment later, Picard and Batanides stood in the small Romulan engine room, where Data, La Forge, and Zweller labored over a partially disassembled computer core. The three officers noted the presence of Picard and Batanides, but went back to their work after the captain made a subtle “as you were” gesture.
Riker, who was standing nearby, approached Picard and Batanides.
“Progress report, Number One,” Picard said.
“First, we’ve managed to stop the flow of tetryons from the warp core.”
“Good,” Picard said. “Those emissions might have defeated the purpose of activating the cloaking device.”
Batanides looked thoughtful. “This ship makes me wonder about something Ruardh said about the referendum.”
“What do you mean?” Picard said.
“I mean that if the outcome really could hinge on our producing proof that the Romulansare really the ones who are up to no good here . . .” Batanides made a broad gesture encompassing the entire room, then said, “. . . well, what more proof do we need than this ship?”
Zweller approached, shaking his head. “If we try to use this ship to prove that the Romulans have been backing the rebels, I think it’ll strike most Chiarosans as a bit too convenient.”
“How so?” Batanides said.
“I took a moment to review the electoral poll data,” Zweller said. “The Chiarosan electorate is a skeptical lot. Most of the voting populace thinks we’re so desperate, that we’d say or do just about anything in order to win them over now.”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Picard said.
Batanides shook her head. “Very well. But I think you may be punting too early in the game.”
“Admiral, I think we have to look at the big picture here very carefully,” Picard said. “We mustn’t forget that the election is only a small part of the Romulans’ real agenda. I suspect that what they’re really after remains hidden elsewhere in the Chiaros system.”
“You mean behind the energy field,” Riker said, as La Forge and Data set aside their task and approached.
“Exactly, Number One. We may have to accept that the referendum is already lost. Therefore that ship will provide a tactical advantage rather than a political one.”
“You want to keep it in reserve,” La Forge said, smiling. “A ‘hole card.’ ”
“That’s right,” Picard said to the engineer. “And I want you and Data to find a way to play that card to our best advantage. We can use this ship to see what the Romulans are up to behind that energy barrier. And perhaps, if necessary, to put a stop to it.”
Batanides didn’t look entirely convinced. “If the referendum is already lost, then two days is all we have. That’s pretty slim timing.”
“We’ve done more with a great deal less,” Picard said.
“I must point out,” Data said, “that if we take the scoutship into the region the Romulans are concealing, we will not have the advantage of surprise. The Romulans are no doubt well aware that we have taken this craft. They are certain to be ready for us.”
Picard smiled. “Well, I didn’t say it would be easy,Mr. Data. Consider it a challenge.”
“I do indeed, sir.”
“We’ll get right on it, Captain,” La Forge said. “We can also modify another probe to look inside the energy screen, to get a better handle on what the scoutship’s got in store for it.”
Picard nodded his approval. “Make it so.” Geordi and Data excused themselves and returned to their work.
Zweller remained behind, looking intrigued. “I’d like to know more about this energy field you keep referring to, Johnny,” he said to Picard.
Picard studied his old Academy friend’s eager expression. Ordinarily, his impulse would have been to tell him everything he knew. But during the flight back to the Enterprise,he had seen how Zweller’s own colleagues had distrusted him. Riker, Troi, and Dr. Gomp had made him aware of their suspicions that Zweller had illegally aided the Chiarosan rebels; Gomp had even gone so far as to suggest that Zweller had prearranged their capture by the Army of Light.