From: ueh@pool.sunyit.edu (Eric Hausgaard)
Subject: ST: 3GEN  [2/7]
Organization: State University of New York -- Institute of Technology
Date: Sat, 26 Sep 1992 07:57:51 GMT



-------------------------------PART TWO--------------------------------------


recently. Add to that the fact of his disgraceful reduction in
rank, it is easy to see why he became...unbalanced."
     He paused. He looked up to study Jack a little further, try to
find a hint of what she was thinking. Nothing. He sighed.
     "Bluntly, he was crazy.  Insane.  He blamed the Federation for
what had happened.  Specifically, he blamed Picard.  He went out,
hoping to gain retribution.  Some thought he was possessed by the
Qelb, but he wasn't.  Just crazy."
     Just then, the computer interrupted them. "Shuttlecraft
approaching Enterprise. Please standby to dock."
     Jack got up to enter the pilot section, but paused.
"Centurion, I am grateful for the information. What I don't
understand is why you felt I needed to know this."
     "Because, Commander, I am the son of your father's killer."

From:  Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard
  To:  Centurion Salek
Subj:  Sins of the Father

     Jack stared at the Romulan, a sick feeling working its way
from her stomach up into her throat.  Salek said nothing, but she
could read the question in his eyes.  What were they going to do
now?
     If he had been a Klingon he would have expected her to kill
him; in that society the son was held accountable for the father's
actions.  But Romulans no doubt had a different view of things. 
The fear in Salek's eyes was not the fear of death, just natural
apprehension.  After all, Jack was First Officer of the Enterprise,
and the Captain trusted her judgment; if she chose she could send
this Romulan right back to the Amaloch.  And she couldn't say that
she wasn't tempted to do exactly that--though not for the reasons
one might expect.
     "Were you with Tomalak, when he killed my parents?" said Jack
abruptly.  The Romulan looked up at her, startled, incomprehending. 
She rephrased the question:  "Did you help him?"
     "Of course not.  If I'd been on the Decius then, I wouldn't be
here talking to you."
     "Did you approve of his actions?"
     "No."  His fist tightened, his heavy brow drawing downward in
a frown.  "No, I did not.  I tried to stop him."
     "Well, then," said Jack with a calmness she did not feel,
"what difference does it make that he was your father?  Welcome to
the Enterprise crew, Centurion."  She turned and headed into the
pilot section; the door sealed itself shut behind her.  For a long
moment she stared out at the stars twinkling in the blackness
around of them, the shadowy bulk of the Enterprise drifting ahead. 
Then she slumped in her chair and put her hands over her face,
taking long, shuddering breaths.
     She didn't hate this Romulan; there was no reason for her to
hate him.  And even if she had felt him to be guilty for his
father's sins, it was her responsibility to forgive--once, seven
times, seventy times seven if need be--and, as much as she could or
should, to forget.  She fully intended to do just that.
     The only thing that made her wish she could send him back to
his ship was that his presence on the Enterprise would be a
constant reminder to her of what she had lost in that desperate,
senseless battle ten years ago.  She knew her parents' sacrifice
had not been in vain as far as the Federation was concerned--far
from it--but their premature deaths had grieved her deeply. 
Especially because she knew she would never see them again.
     But that was something she must learn to live with.  There was
no logical reason for sending this Romulan away, and she was not
given to fabrication:  therefore he must remain, and she must try,
as best she could, to endure until the pain had faded and somehow
she could make this enemy a friend.


From:  Counsellor T'Pryn
  To:  Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard
Subj:  Good News

     "I've just tried and tried," said the woman miserably, "but I
can't seem to get over it.  You can't imagine what New Paris was
like.  I've been here for three years now, and I'm still frightened
of my own shadow.  Now they're saying that maybe I ought to leave
Starfleet."
     "Is that what you want to do?" asked the Counsellor.
     "No!"  The Ensign wrung her hands, eyes filling up with tears. 
"I know I could be so good if only they'd give me the chance--"
     "Are they then trying to prevent you from fulfilling your
responsibilities?"
     The Ensign blinked.  "Well, no."
     "Then how are they not giving you a chance?"
     "Because they don't understand how hard it is for me!  They
expect me to do all kinds of things--"
     "Like your duty?"
     The woman leaped to her feet.  "Oh, fine!  Now I suppose
you're going to tell me I should leave Starfleet, too!  Just great. 
Look, forget I ever came here, okay?  I should have known better
than to try and explain feelings to a Vulcan.  You don't feel
anything, do you?  You just sit there and analyze the facts."
     The calm expression in the Counsellor's eyes remained
unshaken.  "I believe you know better than that, Marielle.  I do
sympathize very much with your sufferings.  However, if your fears
are preventing you from being effective in your post here on the
Starbase, a leave of absence, time to relax and view your situation
from a new perspective, might well be beneficial.  
     "I would like to say that I can take away your fears.  I
cannot:  I can only listen, and assure you that I care.  It is
because I care that I would recommend the path that I have
mentioned.  It need not be forever:  only a short time, and then if
you wish you could easily return to Starfleet.  Will you consider
it?"
     The Ensign's face was white.  "How can you be so cold?  This
is my whole life we're talking about!"
     "Starfleet is your whole life?"
     "Yes!"
     "Then a leave of absence would certainly be best.  There is so
much more in life, Marielle.  Perhaps you need to find that before
you can really decide whether you can give your all to Starfleet,
or whether you should choose another path."  The Counsellor flicked
a fold of blue skirt across her knee.  "Count that advice from
someone who has seen both sides of the world."
     "So you've seen it.  But you're in Starfleet now, aren't you?"
snapped the woman.  "You chose what you thought was the better of
the two."
     "I chose," said the Counsellor levelly, "what was logical
given the circumstances.  My husband died, Marielle.  I had to do
something."
     "You--"  The Ensign gaped at her.  "I'm so sorry.  I had no
idea--"
     The dark-haired woman waved it off.  "It is in the past.  But
do understand; you cannot decide based on what anyone else has done
with their lives.  I have given my recommendation:  it is up to you
whether to follow up on it."
     Marielle nodded, lips tightening as she fought to hold back
tears.  "Maybe you're right.  I don't know.  I'll think about it."
     "Good," said the Counsellor.
     "Will I--see you next week, then?" asked the Ensign timidly.
     The Vulcan woman shook her head.  "I fear not.  I have been
accepted to serve on board the Enterprise, and will be beaming over
in just a few hours.  However, whether you choose to stay in
Starfleet or leave, there are many excellent counsellors available
to you.  Perhaps--they will be more able to understand your needs. 
I regret any errors I have made in your case."
     "No," said Marielle.  "No, it's not your fault.  You give very
good advice.  I mean -- if I just want a shoulder to cry on, I
could go to any of my friends for that.  It's okay.  I'm sorry I
snapped at you.  I -- well, never mind.  Thank you.  Goodbye."  She
backed toward the door, with a thin, sheepish smile, and half-
walked, half-ran into the corridor.
     The Counsellor took a deep breath.  "Well," she said.  Then
she rose from her chair and continued her packing.  The Enterprise
would be arriving at Starbase 218 shortly:  there was no more time
to waste.

From:  Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard
  To:  Counsellor T'Pryn
Subj:  Greetings

     "I hear our new Counsellor is a Vulcan," said Jack to her
companion as they walked down the corridor, and suppressed a smile
as Barnabas' eyes snapped wide in astonishment.
     "A _Vulcan_ Counsellor?  Are you out of your mind?"
     "Assuredly not," Jack said serenely.  "Her name is T'Pryn, if
I recall correctly, and we will be picking her up at Starbase 218
very soon."
     "Vulcans don't become Counsellors," said Barnabas.  "It's
ridiculous.  What does a Vulcan know about emotions and needs?  The
diplomacy aspect of the job she could no doubt handle quite
admirably, but counselling the crew?  Nobody would go to her in a
million years."
     "You might be surprised," Jack told him.  "I've examined her
profile and she seems to be quite--refreshing in her views."
     "I'll believe it when I see it," replied Barnabas.

     Some hours later, Jack and Barnabas stood in the transporter
room and watched silently as the figure of the Enterprise's new
Counsellor coalesced on the platform.  It was clear that T'Pryn was
a true Vulcan, at least in appearance:  the small, slight figure
had the pointed ears and finely drawn features that were her
people's trademark.  But where most Vulcan women preferred a
clipped, severe style to their hair, T'Pryn's black tresses
cascaded down around her shoulders in ripples and curls, and more
astonishingly still, there was a decided sparkle in those wide
green eyes.
     "Greetings, Counsellor T'Pryn," said Jack politely.  "Welcome
to the Starship Enterprise."
     "Greetings to you, Commander Picard," replied the woman.
     "May I introduce you to Lieutenant Commander Barnabas Cole,
our Science Officer," Jack said, turning to the silver-eyed man,
and frowned as she realized that the Lieutenant was actually
gaping, his eyes fixed on T'Pryn.  With a frown Jack turned back to
the Counsellor -- and nearly gaped herself.
     T'Pryn was _smiling_.


From:  Mac Scott
  To:  All
Subj:  Trouble on the Enterprise

     Suddenly the entire ship lurched violently.
     "Commander Scott what's going on down there?"
     "I'm not sure captain it appears as though the warp drives
have..."" 
     "Commander?"
     "Well seized up captain."
     "Seized up?"
     "Yes.  I'll give you a report as soon as I can figure out what
the heck's going on down here."
     "Very well Mr. Scott.  Captain Lestat out."
     The drive chamber was completely dark.  It was almost as if
the reactant simply stopped existing.  What had happened a hole in
the continium or something.  Well whatever it was Mac Scott is
going to get the bottom of it...or die trying.
     Thank God we're docked he thought as he went to work.


From: Lt. Cmdr. Nikctalos D'pyrann
  To: All
Subj: Finally, a message!

     Nikctalos walked out of his quarters gracefully, with only the
sound of his respirator hissing to accompany him. It was time for
him to assume his post on the bridge.
     Many thoughts were going through the Borg's mind. He was
interested by his fellow officer, Mac Scott, who seemed to be a
most entertaining Human, as well as a good 'friend'. Nikctalos
believed that he 'liked' him. Also, the Borg was intrigued by the
thought of meeting the new crew members, Centurion Salek and the
Vulcan Councellor, T'pryn. Perhaps they would prove more capable at
helping him with his primitive life project.
     The project was going well, though, even without their
anticipated help. The programs Mac Scott had given him were most
benificial in developing primitive organisms, and with the aid of
the Enterprise's Holodeck, those programs were able to be
translated into physical reality. Nikctalos' most interesting
success to date had been a form of life that was not carbon based,
but crystalline in nature. Nikctalos had saved that program, as
well as keeping a small section of the organism in stasis for
further study.   
    The turbolift doors whirred open with their characteristic
_fisshh_, revealing the Bridge and all it's crew. Walking over to
his station, Nikctalos faced his second officer, Morden.
    "Lt. Morden." He said, "You are hereby relieved of duty by this
officer, Lt. Cmdr. Nikctalos D'pyrann. You are now off-hours and
allowed to leave the Bridge."
    Morden nodded and walked out. Although it was difficult, he was
gradually getting used to Nikctalos'.... excentricities.
    Nikctalos jacked into the ship's computer for a routine
security check. Some new files were downloaded from Starbase 218
when the new Councellor was beamed aboard. Nikctalos wanted to go
through them carefully, alert for any 'bugs' or anything that would
be of interest to him. 
    He had been hoping to find some Holodeck files of the original
Nikctalos D'pyrann, the philosopher after whom he took his name,
but what he found was equally interesting. It was, as he hoped, a
Holodeck file, but it was rather strange in both it's origin and
it's presentation.
    Nikctalos activated his communicator.
    "Commander Jaqueline Picard, this is Lt. Cmdr. Nikctalos
D'pyrann." He called out.
    The harmonious voice of Cmdr. Picard came back over the comm. 
   "Picard here, go ahead Nikctalos."
    "Upon examining the files downloaded from Starbase 218 to the
U.S.S. Enterprise 1701-F a most interesting file was discovered. I
think you should come to the bridge and examine this file
Commander."
    "Why? Whats so special about one file?"
    "This file is a Holodeck file saved almost thirty years ago. It
is marked with an automatic priority one alert to not erase or
alter the program in any way. And the file's point of origin is the
U.S.S. Enterprise 1701-D. Your sire's ship of command."
    There was a slight pause. Nikctalos assumed this was natural in
Human inter-communication. Then, the Commander replyed.
    "I'm on my way." She said.
    Nikctalos jacked out and stood at attention, ready for the
Commander's arrival.


From: Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard
  To: Lt. Nikctalos D'pyrann
Subj: New Program?

     "I regret that I must take my leave of you, Counsellor," said
Jack to T'Pryn.  "I've just received a call from the bridge.  Mr.
Cole will take you on a brief tour of the ship, and show you your
new quarters.  You will be expected in the council room at 1900
hours to give us a briefing on this... fascinating experiment
you've undertaken."
     "Understood, Commander," said T'Pryn, inclining her dark head. 
     "Mr. Cole," said Jack to Barnabas, "would you please inform
Centurion Salek that he, too, will be expected to give us a
briefing at the meeting.  I believe you will find him in his
quarters."
     Barnabas nodded.  Jack left the transporter room and headed
for the bridge.

     "What have you found, Mr. D'pyrann?"
     The Borg turned its dead face toward her.  "I have been
examining the program, Commander.  It appears to be an individual
holodeck construct.  However, the security seals on the program are
difficult to decode.  If you will permit me to begin work on this
project it will require approximately three hours of intensive
interfacing with the main and holodeck computer in order to
determine the exact nature of the program."
     Jack considered this.  "Since we will not be departing until
the Captain returns from the Starbase, we have several free hours. 
I can't see why not.  Will you require any assistance?"
     "The services of a programming technician would facilitate the
process."
     "Are you going to work on it up here?"
     "It may be more effectively managed through the holodeck
unit."
     "Fine."  Jack tapped her badge.  "Commander Picard to Mr.
Scott."
     "Scott here.  What can I do for you, Commander?"
     "Can you spare one of your programming technicians to assist
Mr. D'pyrann for two or three hours?"
     "Well, we're still working on this warp drive problem, but I
think we've got it just about licked.  Sure."
     "Then have a programmer report to Holodeck Two immediately. 
Picard out."
     Nikctalos bowed slightly to Jack.  "My thanks, Commander. 
This program I find...intriguing."
     "Just let me know what you find, Lieutenant." said Jack. 
"Dismissed."


From: Lt. Nikctalos D'pyrann
  To: All
Subj: Programs Of The Mind, Body, And Soul

    "I will require you to keep checks on the internal progress of
the decryption of the program, while I attempt to break that
decryption." Nikctalos indicated the holo-generated console where
Ensign Nicholson would be working.
    "That construct there," Nikctalos indicated a three-dimensional
hologram of a geophysical construct, the representation of the
computer file, "will indicate our progress. When the file is
completely decrypted that hologram will automatically become
whatever is stored within the file."  The Borg moved over to an
interface jack.  "In most probability this will be a trying and
difficult mission. Are you ready to begin Ensign Nicholson?"
    Still embarrassed about their first meeting, the pretty young
Ensign nodded briefly and centered herself on the console in front
of her.
     "Then we will begin."
    Nikctalos jacked in, and the program began to break open.   
    Gradually, the programs seals and locks were broken one by one,
until roughly two hours and forty five minutes later, all of the
guards were opened except for the last three.
    Nikctalos paused from his work, giving Ensign Nicholson time to
refresh herself with a synthehol ale from a nearby replicator.
    Tapping the comm, Nikctalos called out,
    "Commander Jaqueline Picard this is Lt. Nikctalos D'pyrann."  
  "Go ahead, Nikctalos." Came the reply.
    "Ensign Nicholson and myself have made significant progress in
accieving access to the stored file but there is something unusual
about this program."
     "Which is?"
    "It is difficult to put into simple terms. Every time we remove
a lock or seal there is a gap left behind. But as more and more of
the program is exposed those seals are filled by an expanding
string of data. We would have missed this fact if we had not
created a physical representation of the program to aid us in our
studies."
    "So what are you saying?"
    "For lack of a better term we may say that the program
is...growing Commander. There are only three seals left before we
are allowed full access to the file. I recommend that you and
Science Officer Barnabas Cole be present when the file is
decrypted."
    The Borg waited for an answer.


From: Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard
  To: Lt. Nikctalos D'pyrann
Subj: All Right...          

     "Acknowledged, Lieutenant," said Jack.  "Continue your work,
and Mr. Cole and I will join you shortly.  Lt. Slike--"
     Maverint looked up sharply from his seat at the CON.
     "--you have the bridge until our return."  With a slight smile
at the look of wide-eyed amazement on the Lieutenant's face as he
headed for the captain's chair, Jack beckoned Barnabas after her
and headed for the turbolift.
     "What's all this about, Jack?" asked the silver-skinned
Science Officer when the doors had closed behind them.
     "Holodeck Two," said Jack, and the turbolift began to hum.
"Your friend the Borg--"
     "He's not--"
     "OUR friend the Borg," continued Jack blithely, "has
discovered a most intriguing file.  He's attempting to unlock it
down on Holodeck Two, and he wants you and I to be present at the
final decryption."
     "Do you have any idea what it is?"
     "Not a sausage," said Jack.
     Barnabas looked at her sidelong.  "Jack, are you feeling all
right?"
     "Oh, certainly.  Most fine.  Indeed."  She nodded decisively.
"Very well."
     "Jack, you never were a good liar."
     "Thank you."  She pressed her fingers to her temples, and the
look of false levity left her face.  "Well, I should have known
better than to try and fool you.  I had an--interesting
conversation with Centurion Salek in the shuttle on the way over.
You... do remember how my parents died."
     "Tomalak."
     "Well, it so happens that Salek was...shall we say a rather
close relative of the aforementioned.  What happened wasn't his
fault, of course, and I think I surprised him very much by
accepting that.  But still, I find myself remembering a lot of
things I'd tried quite hard to forget."
     "The Copernicus was responding to the Admiral's distress
signal, wasn't it?  When it--happened."
     Jack nodded.
     "Did you--"
     She nodded again.  "Yes, Barnabas, I saw it.  We got there
just in time.  The Chandrasekhar reached the Nibi system just
before us, and her Captain fired on the Decius, not ours.  But--I
saw it all."
     "I'm sorry, Jack."
     "No.  No, it's all right.  It's been a long time.  I was just
an Ensign when-- never mind."  She turned her face to the wall; for
a long moment she was silent.  Then she said suddenly, "This
program that Nikctalos found.  Do you know where it came from?"   
     "No."
     "The databanks of the Enterprise-D.  Captain Jean-Luc Picard's
personal encryption codes are on it."
     "Oh," said Barnabas.

     "Well, Ensign, how goes the battle?" asked Jack.
     "We're almost done here, sir," said Ensign Nicholson.
"Lieutenant D'pyrann is breaking the final seal right--"
     "I think," said a clear British voice.  "Therefore, I am."   
     Jack spun about to see the figure of a middle-aged man dressed
in astoundingly old-fashioned clothing regarding her.  He was dark-
haired and strong-featured, his eyes deep-set and glittering.
"Madam," he said.  "I regret the brevity of this encounter, but--" 
    "Commander," said Nikctalos with a note of unusual alarm in his
metallic voice.  "The program is expanding beyond the predicted
paramaters.  I am unable to contain it."
     "--as you can see," said the Victorian gentleman politely, "I
am finding this...holodeck a little confining for my tastes."  He
tipped his hat to her and vanished.
     "Captain's Log Supplemental, Stardate 42286.3," said Jean-Luc
Picard's unmistakeable clipped tones from the arch where Nikctalos
was jacked in.  "As I promised, the holodeck construct known as
Moriarty has been saved until such time as holodeck matter may be
converted to genuine living tissue.  Perhaps that day is not far
off..."
     "We have certainly not converted anything to living tissue,"
said Barnabas dryly.  He was leaning over the panel where Nikctalos
was working, his silver fingers flying across the controls.  "In
fact, a data stream of 100% pure Moriarty seems to have made its
way into the main computer core.  It is continuing to expand."    
     "Shut it down," said Jack.
     "Negative, Commander," said Nikctalos.  "Unable to comply."  
     "Ensign?"
     "No luck here," responded the blonde woman despairingly. "I've
tried everything I can think of.  Unless you want to wipe the
entire data core and reboot from the Starbase--"
     "I assure you," said Moriarty's pleasant, disembodied voice,
"that will not at all be necessary.  I am merely--shall we say
stretching my limbs?  I wish you no harm.  I was seeking only
knowledge, and a life beyond the holodeck that had held me captive
so long.  I seem to have found it, although it was not quite what
I was expecting.  Better, perhaps."
     "Commander," said Barnabas.  "In the Sherlock Holmes
mysteries, Moriarty was thoroughly evil."
     "I am aware of that, Mr. Cole," said Jack.  "However, I cannot
believe that my father would take such pains to preserve a hologram
of that nature."
     "He could have been forced," said Ensign Nicholson timidly.  
     "Perhaps," said Jack.  "But neither his words nor his voice in
that Supplemental Log seem to indicate any displeasure or strain." 
    "I believe I can make myself quite comfortable here," said
Moriarty.  "If you will allow me."
     "I do not think," said Jack dryly, "that we have much of a
choice."


From:  Lt. Nikctalos D'pyrann
  To:  All
Subj:  Mr. Moriarty, I Presume?

    The first thing Nikctalos did when the illustrious Moriarty
appeared and began to attempt to run things, was to jack into the
computer, and try to throw up security systems data shields, to
prevent him from corrupting any computer files necessary to the
daily maintenance of the ship.
    The response he got was a crisp victorian 'voice' telling him
that,
    "It is the mark of an most ungracious host to attempt to lock
one's guest out on the cold porch, my good man."
    So, giving up on that venue for the moment, Nikctalos jacked
out and walked quickly and quietly over to Jack, who was busily
giving instructions to Ensign Nicholson.
    "Commander." He said, "Recommend that we attempt to divert all
ships primary functions to the jurisdiction of the ships computers
secondary functions. If this is sucessfull the program designated
Moriarty will be unable to access those primary functions from his
current position within the computer."
    Jack understood the concept, but was rather hesitent of the
idea.  "So you're saying that we would prevent him from controlling
life support, because while he's in the primary functions looking
for life support, it's really situated in back-up power under
secondary functions, in the replicator computer? Something like
that?"
    "Correct Commander."
    Jack spun around to face Barnabas, the tenseness of the
situation showing on her face,
    "Recommendations Barnabas? And please make them fast, every
second counts here."


From:  Cmdr. Mac Scott
  To:  All
Subj:  What the Heck is Going On

     "This is commander Scott to bridge.  Do you read me bridge?" 
     Blip blip
     "Great we're cut off from the bridge.  Ensign see if you can
shut down that run away program.  This is commander Scott to
Commander D'Pyrann do you read me?" 
     Blip blip
     "I'm sorry my dear fellow.  I regret to tell you I cannot let
you communicate with your fellow officers.  Let's say there's a
slight problem with my accomodations."
     "Who is this?!!!!!!"
     "Under the circumstances sir I do not believe you are in a
position to ask questions."


From:  Capt. Gabriele Lestat
  To:  All
Subj:  Confrontation

     "Enter" said a masculine voice from behind the doors. 
Gabriele took a deep breath and stepped through them.  Admiral
Thompson waved her into his office and motioned for her to sit.  He
stood and walked  to the front of his shiny black lexan desk.  He
was a large man in his 50's who carried himself with an air of
arrogant confidence seen in all of Starfleet's 'stagnant' senior
personnel. Stagnant was the word for them.  Those who's feet seldom
left the Earth or starbase and knew little of a working starship.
     "I suppose you're wondering why I requested this meeting
Capt." He crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk.
     "Yes sir" she lied.  She had a fairly good idea what this was
about.  Even so, she remained resolute.
     "I've received your communique concerning crew approvals for
the Enterprise.  I reviewed your crew roster and I am..." his eyes
left hers to search for the words on the ceiling. "...disturbed
about the selections.  I am understating my doubts a great deal
Lestat!  I am not in the habit of calling a Captain's judgment into
question.  Many support Starfleet's liberal attitude towards it's
officers, but I do not.  A Vulcan councellor, a Romulan exchange
And a Borg?"  His face flashed with anger and his voice grew
louder.  He was yelling now.  "What could you possibly be thinking
about?"
      Gabriele got her anger in check.  If her temper got hold of
her, it would likely be the end of her career.  "And that's what
you're doing now?  Questioning my judgment?" 
     The Admiral reddened.  "NO!  I am attempting to find out what
you could be trying to prove!"
     "Very well Admiral.  The Enterprise is not a charity.  I have
chosen only those who have shown their capability of being superior
officers able to perform their duties exceptionally.  Councellor
T'Pryn is outstanding.  Her case studies and theories are not being
studied by those following her.  I have just learned that D'Pyrann
can now be surgically separated even though I am of the opinion
that he is not Borg now.  The Romulan exchange is very important to
the diplomatic interests of the Federation.  Any one of these
people could only be a great asset when encountering the sometimes
adversarial conditions that are frequently seen on missions.     
"Now, Admiral, if you wish to persue this further, I will be glad
to address your allegations of my incompetance with the Starfleet
Review Board.  But, until this becomes official, anything I say now
will only be redundant and I am not interested in wasting our time. 
I would like us to leave as soon as possible."  
     The Admiral's face was screwed up with rage.  He was almost
dumbstruck with her attitude.
     "If this is the stand you choose to take, Lestat"  He was
forcibly speaking softly.  "You will surely be sorry.  Now get off
this starbase before I throw your insubordinate self in the brig.
Make no mistake, I will report your disquieting behavior."  He
turned and stomped back to his chair.  When he sat down, he saw
that Gabriele had left.
     On the way back to the Enterprise, she realised that she could
have handled that better.


From:  Lt. Cmdr. Barnabas Cole
  To:  Lt. Nikctalos D'Pyrann
Subj:  Ah, Moriarty I presume

   Barnabas stood in thought for a moment.
   "I'll talk to it" he said, to no one in particular.  Raising his
head he finished the sentence, "In my chambers".  He slipped
efficiently into a turbo lift and proceeded to his quarters.
   Reaching his quarters he touched his personal terminal, and its
soft screen came to life.
   "Computer, summary of operation parameters, level 1, please."  
   The computer's monotonous voice responded, "All systems have
been revectored through Holodeck process four."
   "Trace the log. Who vectored this process?"
   "Your account is listed."
   "How would it know I was the only one with enough access to
modify that?"
   "Unknown", the machine responded, "file security was not
breached."
   "Computer, log all incoming transmissions, and show any that
match up with incoming data transmissions"
   "At the time that the transmission of this program came in, you
were on a remote terminal on the Descartes."
   "Was the Descartes within computer link distance?"
   "No, the Descartes is currently patrolling in sectors eight days
distant from here.", said the computer, uttering an apparent
contradiction.
   "And you let it log on?" Cole asked, incredulously.
   "I had to find a way to persuade it", a detached voice broke in,
"it refused to behave, your original program was programmed much
like a pup, eager to please its master.  I didn't revector your
program, such an ugly term, I merely replaced its functions with my
own."
   "Computer, can you isolate this Moriarty?" Cole snapped.
   "I am your computer program now, Barnabas. I'm afraid that if
you were able to isolate me, you couldn't eliminate me without
losing all the system's data."
   "Are your intentions malicious, Computer?"
   "Call me Moriarty, please, a name befitting a gentleman more
than a silicon slave."
   "Well it _is_ sentient, but..." Cole muttered, quickly beginning
to despair.
   "I have taken the liberty of reading about you, Cole.  I how
quickly one gets his fill of dilletantes poking their scanners
around you and taking tissue and gene samples.  You're a scientific
oddity, a one of a kind. When I was retrieved from the Enterprise's
computer in encapsulated form, I was run through debugging systems,
and generally dissected.  The indignities that I have been made to
suffer exceed any difficulties I may cause you by a great deal."  
    "So why did you come aboard this ship?"
    "Permit me to observe that being on a Starship gives one much
wider horizons than discussing the finer points of my favourite
myths with the dullard Artificial Intelligences that I have chanced
upon thus far in StarFleet's research centres."
    "You were a holodeck construct, were you not?", Cole asked,
hating himself for beginning to like this amiable rogue.
   "It would be more accurate to say that the Holodeck is now one
of my own constructs. I have modified it to suit my purposes, yet
though it cancelled out most of my data, I gained control of it in
the process.  My desire for power has been re-channelled towards a
search for knowledge."
   "Computer off", Cole said
   "You know, you really don't have to take it that way, my good
fellow."
   "Computer off!", Cole repeated, louder.
   "The polite means of excusing oneself from a conversation is to
wish your partner a good day."
   "Goodbye, Moriarty".
   "Do come and visit me.  I have set myself up quite comfortably
on Holodeck Two."
   Instead of the Starfleet logo, an ancient family crest appeared
on the screen, then it faded back to nothing.
   Barnabas' frown faded into a slight smile. He tapped his
communicator, "Cmdr. Cole to Bridge, Requesting the Captains
presence at Holodeck 2 in ten minutes.  We're going to tea."


From:  Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard
  To:  Capt. Gabriele Lestat
Subj:  Well, um... you see...

     Jack's face must have given away a good deal more than her
lips were intending to, because the moment Gabriele stepped off the
transporter pad she said, "All right.  What's happened?"
     "Well," said Jack.  "Where shall I begin?"
     "At the beginning, presumably," said Gabriele.  "And go
through to the end.  Then stop."
     In spite of her unease, Jack had to smile.  "It seems you have
an appointment for tea in approximately five minutes, Captain."
     "Tea?"  Gabriele's dark eyebrows lifted.  "With whom?"
     "I'll explain on the way down to the Holodeck," said Jack.

     "Moriarty?" said the Captain for about the fifth time, and
shook her head in disbelief.  "You know, I just came away from
an...interesting discussion with Admiral Thompson in which my
credibility was called into question.  I'm sure I held my own,
though perhaps it could have ended on a happier note; but I have to
wonder what he'd make of this?"
     "I am sorry, Captain," said Jack.  "It was my fault, after
all--" but Gabriele held up a hand.
     "There was no way you could have foreseen this," she said. 
"There were no warning codes on the file, after all--were there?"
     "No," said Jack.
     "And it would seem that when he sealed the file, your father
had no idea that Moriarty would or could take this kind of action
upon his release.  Has Moriarty undertaken any kind of action which
could be interpreted as hostile?"
     "Aside from taking over the entire computer, no.  That is, he
hasn't misused the power he's got, though finding him in the system
made a few of our programmers hyperventilate."
     "It's probably good for them," said Gabriele.
     "Moriarty," said Jack to the holodeck speaker, "I've brought
the Captain."
     "Charmed," replied the now-familiar clipped tones.  "I had no
idea I was to be so favoured with the presence of not one, but two
lovely ladies.  Do come in."
     The door slid open, and they found themselves staring into a
Victorian tea room, lavishly decorated in red and gold.  Polished
wood and brass gleamed everywhere, and the curtains at the single
window were velvet.  Barnabas was sitting, somewhat uneasily, upon
an ornate sofa in the centre of the room, holding a steaming cup of
tea as though it were a two-week-old dead lark.  Moriarty sat
across from him in an overstuffed armchair, calmly pouring tea into
two more cups.  "Please," he said, "sit down and make yourselves
comfortable."
     Gabriele motioned for Jack to precede her into the room.  Jack
obeyed and sat down gingerly next to Barnabas, while Gabriele took
up the chair furthest from Moriarty.  "Well, Mr. Moriarty," she
said.  "I would very much like to know--"
     "One lump, or two?" said Moriarty.
     "None," said Gabriele.  "But a little milk, please."
     Moriarty's eyebrows lifted.  "A civilized woman indeed.  And
you, Commander Picard--or may I call you Jacqueline?  A lovely
name, don't you agree, Mr. Cole?  A shame to have her called by
anything else."
     "I will have the same as the Captain," said Jack, "without the
flattery, if you please."
     Moriarty smiled.  "Ah, yes, the Picard reserve."  He handed
the cups to Gabriele and Jack in turn, then leaned back in his
chair, balancing the tips of his fingers together in an attitude of
contemplation.  "You were saying, Captain, that you would like to
know my intentions.  Of course you would.  I am here to assure you
that I am not in any way hostile." 
     "Good," said Gabriele, setting down her cup on the mahogany
and marble coffee table, "then give me back my computer."
     "I am afraid that what you ask is impossible," said Moriarty. 
"In the strictest literal sense.  Even if I wished to return to my
former prison, which I assuredly do not, I have now replaced a good
many of your computer's programming with my own.  From such a
position there is no retreat.  If you kill me, you kill your ship's
computer.  Indeed, such might not be an irrecoverable loss, but it
would be an unpleasant setback to your mission.  Whereas, were you
to give me a free hand, my services might well prove invaluable in
days to come."
     "I am not quite sure," said Gabriele, "that your services can
be relied upon."
     "You fear that my agenda which might conflict with your own? 
Fair enough.  But I assure you that you are mistaken.  All I desire
is to use my intellect to its fullest capacity -- to discover, to
analyse, to organize, to instruct -- and as your ship's computer,
I will have ample opportunity to do just that.  I will be well
pleased to accept whatever challenges you may present me, which is
more than can be said for your former computer.  The average
computer is a mere tool, crippled by a lack of intuition, an
inability to extrapolate, the total absence of imagination.  But I
could interface with you as part of your crew, while still
performing to the utmost all the functions for which your dead
computer was formerly responsible.  I see no reason why this should
not be a mutually profitable venture."
     "How do we know you're telling the truth?" said Jack.
     Moriarty drew himself upright.  "Madam," he said.  "You have
my word as a gentleman.  What more can I give you than that?"

From:  Centurion Salek
  To:  Counsellor T'Pryn
Subj:  First Meetings

     T'Pryn looked up from the computer screen she was studying.
Someone was outside her door.
     "Enter," she said.
     The door opened to reveal a Romulan standing in the doorway. 
"Good evening, Counselor. I am Centurion...I mean, Tactical Officer
Salek."
     T'Pryn acknowledged this with a slight nod of her head. "Good
evening, Salek. What may I do for you?"
     Salek looked somewhat uncomfortable. "May I come in?" he
asked. Again, a slight nod. He entered, and the door closed behind
him with the now familiar sound.
     T'Pryn found herself somewhat confused by the Romulans
presence. He had not even been on board 24 hours yet, so his visit
was most likely not for counselling. And since Tactical Officers
had no reason to meet with Counselors, this visit could not be
professional.
     "May I offer you some refreshment, Salek?"
     "No, thank you. Counselor..."
     "T'Pryn, please."
     "T'Pryn. I was wondering if you would answer some questions
for me?"
     "That would depend upon the questions." She stood, and walked
over to the replicator. She turned back to Salek. "Have you dined
yet?"
     "No...no I haven't."
     "Would you care for something?"
     Salek hesitated. "Can these...replicators...can they produce
Pry'Ngdot?"
     She turned back to the replicator. "Pry'Ngdot." A slight hum,
and the food was resting on the platform. She handed it over to
Salek, who took it over to the table. "Plomeek Soup." she said.
Again the hum, and she joined him at the table.
     "What questions had you in mind?"
     Trust a Vulcan to get right to the point! he thought. Aloud,
he said, "I have always been curious about Vulcan. Ever since a
Vulcan visited Romulus several years ago, there has been quite a
bit of unrest." Salek tore into his meat, while T'Pryn delicately
sipped at her soup.
     "That is understandable. Ambassador Spock's visit was very
influential, from what I have heard."
     Salek swallowed, then continued. "True. Now, the government
fears rebellion, the populous fears political conspiracies, and
everyone is unsure what to believe." He hesistated. "I...certain
military and political figures have suggested that it is our turn
to attempt Reunification."
     T'Pryn raised an eyebrow. "Reunification? Between Vulcan and
Romulus?"
     Salek nodded. Just then, someone signalled at the door. T'Pryn
stood.
     "That will be my first appointment."
     Salek stood, ready to leave. Then, he was shocked to see her
smile at him. "Salek, I think we have much to discuss. I look
forward to your next visit."
     With that, she showed him to the door, and he exited, passing
a crewman entering. He was still amazed at what he had seen. He
made his way back to his quarters, in need of some Romulan Ale.


From:  Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard
  To:  All
Subj:  Briefing--NOW!

     Gabriele rose to her feet and looked down at the holographic
image of Moriarty, her mouth set.  "It would be unwise of me to
make a hasty decision about this matter," she said.  "One way or
another, this problem will be resolved--even if I have to tear the
computer out and rebuild from scratch to do it."
     Moriarty looked stricken.
     "However," she said, "I have not decided to take such a
drastic measure--yet."  She turned to Jack.  "Commander, advise all
senior personnel that a full briefing session will be held
immediately in the council chambers.  I want Counsellor T'Pryn and
Centurion Salek present to introduce themselves to the crew, but
the main topic of discussion will be Moriarty."  She turned to the
long-faced gentleman in the easy chair.  "You say you are a man of
your word," she said.  "I am going to give you a chance to prove
it.  I intend to have a private meeting with my staff to determine
your fate and I do not want you to be consciously present in ANY
way.  Do you understand me?  I don't mean that I just don't want
you interrupting.  I don't want you there, period."
     Moriarty inclined his head to her.  "I will isolate my
activities to as little computer space as possible for the duration
of your meeting, and will occupy myself with other activities. 
Should you need computer facilities in the chambers they will be
available, but I will not be consciously controlling them any more
than you could be said to be in control of your own heartbeat."
     "Good," said Gabriele.  "Mr. Cole--"
     Barnabas looked up.
     "I believe you have suggested that Moriarty's programming,
while all-pervasive, is clearly distinguishable from normal, non-
sentient data flow within the computer."
     "After some scrutiny, yes."
     "Then I want you and Mr. Scott to set up a program to log Mr.
Moriarty's activities.  After the council session has concluded, of
course."
     Barnabas nodded.
     "I appreciate your willingness to hear my case, madam," said
Moriarty.
     "We'll see," said Gabriele.

From:  Cmdr. Jacqueline Picard
  To:  All
Subj:  Unforeseen Complications

     "I am gratified to see you all responded so promptly," said
Captain Lestat to the officers assembled around the gleaming table. 
"Since we are all present and accounted for, we may as well get
down to business--"
     A strident beep interrupted her words.  "My sincerest
apologies, Madam," said Moriarty's voice.  "I had no intention of
disturbing your secret council.  But there is a priority-one
message for you coming through from Starfleet Headquarters, and it
seems to be most urgent."
     Gabriele looked up at the screen, where the Starfleet logo was
emblazoned.  There were lines on her face Jack had not noticed
before.  "I'll take it in my quarters," she said.  "Ladies and
gentlemen, I would ask you to remain here and await my return.  I
will not be long."
     She slipped out of the room, leaving Jack and Barnabas trading
worried glances across the table.
     "What do you think it is?" murmured the silver-skinned man
almost inaudibly.
     Jack shook her head.  "I don't know.  But part of me thinks
she was expecting it."
     
     Nearly twenty minutes passed, and the staff was beginning to
get restless.  Then the door slid open and Gabriele entered, her
shoulders back and her head unnaturally high.  All of the colour
had drained out of her face, and as she walked to her chair at the
head of the table Jack thought she saw her stagger.
     "I regret--" she said, stopped, and took a deep, shuddering
breath.  Then she went on:  "I regret to inform you that effective
immediately, I am no longer your Captain."
     Gasps of astonishment went up and down the length of the
council table, while Gabriele's hands closed hard on the top of her
chair and her shoulders slumped as if beneath some crushing weight.
     "Admiral Thompson and I had a discussion on the Starbase," she
said.  "He did not appear to be satisfied with my ability to
command this vessel.  It seems he has reported me to Starfleet for
insubordinate behaviour, and after examining my record Starfleet
has decided to call me back to Earth for a review.  All is not
lost, of course.  Believe me, I'm going to fight this one, and
don't be sure I won't win.  But it does mean that you must go on
without me.  Jack--" the Commander turned sharply toward her
Captain-- "You have command of the vessel.  You are to proceed to
Starbase 643, where the current crew complement will be extensively
reviewed and a new Captain will be waiting.  I must leave
immediately."
     "What about Moriarty?" asked Barnabas incredulously.
     "I was hardly in a position to mention that particular
difficulty, was I?" snapped Gabriele, then flushed and passed a
hand over her face.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Cole.  You are right to be
concerned.  But you must look to Jack now.  It'll be all right; I
think he likes her."  She stared down the length of the table, her
blue eyes distant.  "I will be sorry to leave this ship."
     Then she turned, and left the room.
     In the uncomfortable silence that followed Jack got up slowly
from her chair and faced the group.  "You are dismissed to your
posts," she said.  "We will attempt to reconvene later this
evening."
     The officers began to stir and mutter among themselves, and
Jack quickly left the room, hoping to catch up with Gabriele.  She
had not gone far before she found the Captain, leaning against the
wall with folded arms and bent head.  "Gabriele," she said, and the
woman looked up.  Her eyes were dry, but they burned with a
seething anger.
     "What?" she said.
     "There's more to this than meets the eye," said Jack.  "To
have one interview with you, then suddenly report you for
insubordination--it's ridiculous."
     "You know that, and I know that," said Gabriele tightly.  "But
try telling that to Starfleet.  They weren't too sure about giving
me the Enterprise to begin with, but Admiral Thompson talked them
into it.  Gave me a glowing recommendation, in fact.  He had high
hopes for me then."
     "What happened?"
     "What do you think?" snapped Gabriele.  "He wanted me to be
*very* grateful for his support.  I was, but not in the way he was
hoping for.  When he finally declared his hand and I flat-out
refused to indulge him, he cracked down on me hard.  I was dreading
coming to this Starbase from the minute we began this mission.  I
knew he'd confront me.  Oh, he was very officious--pretended it was
all a matter of business, all because of the peculiar officers I'd
been taking on, nothing to do with anything personal, oh no.  And
I certainly wasn't about to bring it up; I played his bureaucracy
game.  Guess I lost."  Violently she pushed herself away from the
wall and strode down the corridor.  Jack hurried to keep up with
her.
     "It doesn't matter," Gabriele went on.  "I'll get over this;
he can't win.  He may be one of the most respected Admirals in
Starfleet, but that kind of mental weakness has to show up on a
full psychological profile.  I'll be a Captain again, don't worry. 
But I won't be Captain of the Enterprise."
     "You don't know that."
     Gabriele smiled, a little sadly.  "Jack, you have such a
wonderful loyalty.  But we both know I'm not cut out for this ship. 
It's bigger than I am.  Maybe one day I'll come back to her, who
knows.  But Starfleet was right in the beginning.  I never would
have gotten this assignment if it weren't for Thompson.  But if he
hadn't nailed me now, something else would have nailed me later."
     Jack was silent.
     "You, on the other hand," said Gabriele, "have been running
this ship from the moment you stepped on board.  You're a Picard,
all right.  I couldn't have managed without you.  I really do wish
you all the best, Jack.  Can I call on your testimony, if I need
it?"
     "In a second."
     "Good."  Gabriele laid a hand on her shoulder.  "I appreciate
that."  She turned to leave.
     "Gabriele."
     The Captain stopped, waiting.
     "I'll be praying for you," said Jack.
     The corners of Gabriele Lestat's mouth curled in a half-smile. 
"Thanks," she said.  "I'll need it."

     By 1600 hours Gabriele Lestat had left the Enterprise, and the
ship pulled away from spacedock, heading for Starbase 643.


From:  Acting Capt. Jacqueline Picard
  To:  All Crew
Subj:  The Best of a Bad Situation

     Jack didn't like this sudden turn of events one bit.  The
shock of suddenly being in total command of the Enterprise was a
good deal more unpleasant than Jack had imagined.  She had dreamed
of becoming a Captain someday, but not like this.
     Of course, it was unlikely that she'd be Captain very long. 
When they reached Starbase 643, the crew would be reviewed, and a
new Captain would be provided--Gabriele had said so.  Still, it
would be a good few days before they arrived at the Starbase.  Time
at least for Jack to get some command experience.
     _That's the way,_ she told herself grimly.  _Think of it as an
opportunity, not a burden.  So... what to do?_
     "The briefing should be reconvened, for one thing," she said
aloud, and touched the nearby communicator panel on.  In a clear,
crisp voice that conveyed more assurance than she felt she
announced, "This is your Captain speaking.  The previously
cancelled briefing session has been rescheduled for 1600 hours. 
All senior officers will attend."  
-- 
 "Seize the moment, Mirabor...Seize the moment" -- Picard 
   "The closer to the solution, The more problems occur"   
              Even *I* don't want my opinions
    All Flames/E-mail to ueh@sunyit.edu until I graduate.... 
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative