Zweller’s face and voice betrayed only a flicker of emotion as he leaned forward, hands on the table. “No, Marta. I’m acting on behalf of an agency whose highest priority is the Federation’s security. As far as my superiors knew, my mission would have cost us little and benefited us greatly.”
“You know as well as I do that those Romulan agents are probably set to be purged anyhow,” she replied. “And that there are probably innocents on that list who will be removed from their posts or charged with conspiracy so that the Romulans can replace them with their own people.”
“I don’t think that any Starfleet Intelligence operatives will be charging forward blindly to arrest and prosecute everyone on the list without first–”
“Enough!” Picard slammed both hands down on the table, scowling at his two oldest friends. He had a hard time swallowing everything Zweller had just told him; on the other hand, he certainly couldn’t dismiss out of hand the commander’s charges against Ruardh’s government. Riker and Troi had corroborated that part of Zweller’s story, after all.
The captain turned toward the admiral and spoke, his tone measured. “We must salvage as much of this situation as possible. I think it’s clear now that Ruardh and her government have been concealing their ethnic cleansing pogroms from us all along. And now that the rebel headquarters have been destroyed–regardless of who is responsible–the people seem certain to reject Federation membership, and perhaps even Ruardh’s continued rule. I’m afraid I must agree that the loss of Chiaros IV seems a foregone conclusion at this point.”
He switched his gaze from Batanides to Zweller, and continued. “You’ve obfuscated the truth so much, Corey, that I almost don’t know what to believe anymore. Except for this: Your exchange with the Romulans must go ahead as planned.”
“What?Why?” Batanides appeared dumbfounded. Zweller looked surprised as well.
“Marta, if the Romulans are playing straight with Corey,” Picard said, “then we’ll at least get that list of spies. Corey’s extralegal skulduggery and the loss of the Slaytonwon’t have been entirely in vain.” Picard observed Corey wince almost imperceptibly at the mention of his destroyed starship; he didn’t need Troi’s talents to notice Zweller’s obvious burden of self‑recrimination, deserved or not.
Picard looked at Batanides, who seemed to be weighing his words carefully. After a moment, she nodded and said, “I think you and I are finally on the same page, Johnny, though I have to confess to some surprise to hear you sanctioning a covert operation.”
Picard’s memory conjured images of his capture on the planet Celtris III four years ago, during a secret mission to find a Cardassian metagenic weapon; he fleetingly recalled the horrendous torments, both physical and psychological, he had endured at the hands of his inquisitor, Gul Madred.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Picard said, his throat suddenly dry.
Batanides shrugged. “Be that as it may, you left out an important detail.”
“What’s that?” Picard said, his brow wrinkling.
“I’m going with him,” she replied.
Now it was Picard’s turn to be surprised. “Actually, I was thinking that Ishould be the one to go, Marta.”
“You’re not an intelligence officer, Johnny,” she said, a sly smile crinkling the corners of her mouth. “I am. And I outrank you, so please don’t bother arguing.”
“I suppose you are the best choice to . . . render aid to Mr. Zweller should he need it,” Picard said, admitting defeat. And to keep an eye on him in case he has any other tricks up his sleeve.Picard knew that he didn’t need to say that out loud; he assumed that both Batanides and Zweller were already thinking it as their reflections regarded each other appraisingly across the polished tabletop.
Breaking the silence, Picard said, “Still, I have to point out that there’s some real danger here.” Batanides flashed him a no kidding?look of mock surprise; he ignored it and continued. “While we’re trying to neutralize the singularity, we’ll stand a greater chance of success if we can divert the Romulans’ attention elsewhere.”
“Onto the two of us,” Batanides said.
“In other words,” Zweller said acerbically, “we’re going to serve as a distraction.”
Picard ignored the comment. “You’ll be issued a shuttle so you can make your rendezvous at the appointed time.”
The captain’s combadge suddenly chirped, and Will Riker’s voice issued from it. “Captain, I think we’ve finally got some good news. Geordi has worked out the details of his plan for dealing with the singularity.”
And not a moment too soon,Picard thought. “Splendid, Number One. I’ll join you on the bridge in a moment.”
Rising from his chair, Picard took a last look at his two friends and fleetingly saw them as they had once been–rousingly ebullient and slightly rebellious cadets.
How time and politics change us all.
“It is vitally important that you keep the Romulans occupied,” he said, straightening his tunic as he prepared to exit the observation lounge. “And personally, for me . . . it’s equally as important that bothof you return from your appointment alive. We’ll deal with these othermatters . . . later.”
If thereis a ‘later’ for the three of us,Picard thought as he strode down the corridor.
The silence in the room was palpable after Picard departed. Batanides’s thoughts were awhirl as she tried to make sense of the revelations to which she had just been made privy. She looked over at Zweller, who was now slumped in his chair, refusing to meet her gaze.
He spoke first. “I’m sorry, Marta. It wasn’t my intention to have this all go south. I’d do anything to bring the crew of the Slaytonback, and Aubin was–”
“Don’t.” Her voice was firm and unyielding. “Don’t you dare bring Aubin into your–” And then it hit her. Troi’s premonition of danger at the peace conference, when she had pushed Picard to safety. The emotionamplifying chip and its contents, as described by the android. Some of the things Aubin had said and done on this mission. Before now, none of them had connected. Now, though she didn’t want to think it, the words came into her head in a flood. Aubin was Cory’s partner in sabotaging the Chiarosan peace talks.
Steeling her nerves, she began moving around the conference table toward Zweller. “He was working with you, wasn’t he?” she asked.
Zweller looked up at her, a flicker of surprise in his gaze. She was glad to see that for once in the last hour, she had been the one to surprise him.She continued: “He was part of your group. He didn’t come here to promote peace, he came here to help end Ruardh’s regime and lose the Geminus Gulf to the Romulans.”
“He was doing what was bestfor the Federation, Marta. He was following his orders.”
She began to turn, then brought her left hand up in a clenched fist. Her blow connected to Zweller’s jaw with a crack, and he went cartwheeling backward, out of his chair.
Sprawling, the commander rubbed his jaw. “Ow,” he said simply.
“Get up too soon and I’ll knock you right back on your ass, Corey.” Batanides massaged her fist a bit, and looked down at her friend. “How shouldI react? First I find out that one of my oldest friends has betrayed his ideals and is collaborating with the Romulans. And now I find out that the man I loved–who was slaughtered in the midst of a peace initiative–is just as much a traitor to everything I believe in!”
“I’m nota traitor, Marta,” he said emphatically, holding his hands up, palms outward, as if to ward off any further blows. “And neither was Aubin. We were following orders from Starfleet, orders that worked to the benefit of the Federation.”