Chapter Three

DATA WAS WAITINGfor Picard when he materialized on the bridge of the warbird. As usual, the android’s facial

expression was neutral, yet at the same time it somehow managed to convey an impression of both alert expectation and

an almost childlike inquisitiveness.

 

Lieutenant Commander Data was the creation of the late Professor Noonian Soong, an enigmatic and reclusive genius

whose work even the most brilliant minds of Starfleet were still struggling to understand. Except for his pale

alabaster skin, which was synthetic, and his yellow eyes, which were sophisticated cybernetic optic units, Data was

entirely human in appearance. He was, however, completely inorganic and, as such, he did not age. His positronic

brain was a sentient, self-aware computer, capable of learning and processing information with incredible speed and

efficiency.

 

After he was discovered in Soong’s abandoned laboratory on a remote colony world, eminent Starfleet scientists

started competing with one another, trying to lay claim to him. However, Data resisted becoming a laboratory

specimen. He wanted to remain with the crew of theEnterprise , and Picard supported him in his decision. When Picard

was overruled, Data threatened to resign from Starfleet. A court of inquiry was assembled to determine whether or not

he, as an android, had any civil rights.

 

The key to the case was the question of Data’s sentience. He was highly adept at mimicking human behavior and

responses, but more than that, he sought to understand and assimilate them. The android had an insatiable desire to

learn, and more than anything, he wanted to be human. From a logical standpoint, he understood that this was a dream

he could never hope to realize, but on a metaphysical level, it was, perhaps, a more attainable goal.

 

A human being, ultimately, was more than merely the sum of his or her parts. Data’s sophisticated positronic brain

performed essentially the same functions as an organic human brain. In fact, it performed most of those functions in

a superior manner, allowing him to breeze through the courses at the Starfleet Academy. Science answered for him many

questions about the fascinating puzzle of human existence, but it had yet to determine exactly what constituted the

human soul. If intelligence and self-awareness were used as criteria, then Data more than met those qualifications.

If it was a question of animating force, then an argument could be made that Data met the criteria there as well, for

the electrical impulses of the human brain were essentially the same, in principle, as those that powered Data’s

positronic circuits. If it was a question of the genetic templates of DNA, then Data failed on that count, but to

resort to DNA as a definition of the concept of humanity was to open up a controversy no system of theology or

philosophy could adequately deal with, for it would imply that cloning could essentially produce a soul.

 

Picard had avoided the metaphysical issues and based his argument purely on the question of sentience and self-awareness. He had pointed out to the court that if Data was sentient and self-aware, something that was easily

demonstrable, and if the judges disregarded his will, they risked setting a dangerous precedent that could ultimately

result in the creation of a slave race, something that voilated everything the Federation stood for. Given Picard’s

persuasive moral argument, the court had no choice but to rule in Data’s favor.

 

The court had thus validated Data’s right to self-determination, and the android became a permanent and highly valued

member of theEnterprise crew. Legally he could not be considered human, but the court had recognized Data’s civil

rightsa decision that had highly controversial implications. The time would come, Picard was certain, when the

decision of the court would raise some fascinating legal and philosophical issues, but for the present, Data was the

first and only inorganic being to have been granted civil rights, and the android considered it a great personal

victory. The decision didn’t mean that he was human, but it was perhaps the next best thing. And if people wondered

whether or not a computerbrained inorganic being was capable of loyalty, then they had to look no further than

Lieutenant Commander Data.

 

“Sir,” the android said, “I have deduced the operating principles of the Romulan ship’s computer, and I have entered

the appropriate instructions to prepare a download of its central data files. I am ready to proceed at your

instructions.”

 

“Excellent, Mr. Data,” said Picard, as he glanced uneasily around the bridge of the warbird. It was larger than that

of theEnterprise , and everything about it felt alien and disturbingly malevolent, especially with the bodies of the

bridge crew still lying where they had fallen.

 

It was, Picard realized, partially his own reaction to the unsettling sight of death. The body of the warbird’s young

captain lay twisted at the foot of the elevated command throne with its built-in operating consoles. His hands were

frozen in an attitude of clawing at his throat, and his eyes and mouth were open wide in a horrible grimace. The

bodies of the other crew members were either draped over their duty stations or lying on the deck where they had

fallen, vainly gasping for breath. It was, Picard thought, an awful way to die.

 

The bridge of the warbird was laid out with an almost Byzantine devotion to form, less like a military command center

than a place of ritual. The command post where the captain sat, looking down over the bridge, vaguely brought to mind

the throne of an Egyptian pharaoh, and the tandem consoles where the pilot, navigator, and weapons officer had their

postsraised on a platform higher than the other duty stations, but lower than that of the captainwere reminiscent

of an altar on which sacrifices could be made to the Romulan deities of war. And in this case, thought Picard, those

sacrifices had been terrible.

 

Ships had their own distinctive personalities, Picard thought, and this ship was no different. Somehow it simply

feltwrong, and it wasn’t just the aura of death brought about by the terrible disaster its crew had experienced.

Picard wondered if any of the other personnel on the away teams felt it, then quickly dismissed the matter from his

mind. Doubtless, he told himself, it was merely the tension of the situation. He was anxious to have a look around

this formidable new warbird, but the sooner the work was done, the better he would like it. He did not enjoy being

aboard a death ship. He glanced at the body of the fallen Romulan commander and quickly looked away. Then he frowned

and looked back again. Was there something different in the attitude of the body?

 

He moved closer to the corpse of the Romulan commander and stared down at it intently. Perhaps it had merely been a

trick of peripheral vision, but for a moment he almost could have sworn he saw the Romulan take a breath. But no,

that was clearly impossible. Doubtless, he told himself again, it was merely the tension of the situation and his

anxiety to get on with their business here.

 

“Captain?” said Data. “Should I proceed?”

 

Picard frowned and shook his head, thinking it must have been merely his imagination. Scanners had picked up no signs

of life aboard this ship. He forced his attention away from the body of the Romulan, back to the task at hand.

 

“Have you checked the warbird’s computer for any safeguard programs?” he asked Data, concerned about the possible

loss of information due to the detection of unauthorized access. TheEnterprise computer was equipped with such

safeguards, designed to prevent access if the proper coded commands were not entered.

 

“As far as I have been able to determine, sir, there seem to be no programs to guard against unauthorized entry,”

Data replied, as he sat behind the console at the science officer’s station. “I have deciphered the language of their

software, and while their files do contain coded entries, their codes seem to be based on a simple mathematical

progression. It should be a relatively simple matter to download them to our own data banks and translate them at our

leisure. Curiously, I find a singular lack of sophistication in their computer technology.”

 

“Perhaps it isn’t so curious, Mr. Data,” said Picard. “Romulan captains are trained as warriors, not as engineers. It

follows that their systems would have been designed to be easily accessible to any of the bridge crew. The

possibility of a Romulan warbird falling into enemy hands was probably unthinkable to them. They would destroy their

ships before surrendering them.”

 

“That would seem wasteful and illogical,” said Data.

 

“Not to a Romulan, Mr. Data,” replied Picard. “To a Romulan warrior, surrender means dishonor and disgrace. On Earth

there is an old military saying, ‘Death before dishonor.’ The Romulans have their own version: Death before

defeat.’”

 

He turned and glanced around at the bridge of the warbird again. In this case, he thought, it was the Romulans’ own

ship that had defeated them. He heard a faint, unintelligible sound, rather like a moan, and turned back to Data with

a frown.

 

“What was that, Mr. Data?”

 

The android looked up at him. “I said nothing, Captain.”

 

“I thought I heard”

 

And then he heard it once again, this time accompanied by a rustling sound of movement. This time Data heard it too,

and he glanced up from the screen, looking for the source of it. Picard’s first thought was that it might be someone

from the away team, but as he looked up toward the warbird’s communications station, he distinctly saw the arm of the

communications officer move.

 

At once he reached for his phaser, but even as his fingers closed around it, a voice behind him said, “If you draw

that phaser, Captain, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

 

Picard spun around, eyes wide, to see the Romulan captain standing behind him with his disruptor drawn and aimed

squarely at his chest. Data reached quickly for his phaser, but the “corpse” of the Romulan science officer suddenly

rose from the deck beside him and pressed the emitting cone of his disruptor against the android’s head.

 

“Lieutenant Commander Data, is it not?” said Valak. “I would advise against resistance. It would be a shame to

destroy Starfleet’s only android officer.”

 

Picard stared with utter disbelief as the bodies of the Romulan bridge crew suddenly came to life around him. “But .

. . this isimpossible !” he said, his senses reeling in the face of the unacceptable reality.”You were dead!”

 

“In the words of your human philosopher, Mark Twain,” said Valak with a smile, “The reports of my death are greatly

exaggerated.’ Korak, relieve Captain Picard of his phaser before he succumbs to temptation and does something

foolish.”

 

As the Romulan first officer stepped up to Picard and took his weapon, Picard twisted away from him and slapped his

communicator. “Picard toEnterprise: red alert! Battle stations”

 

Korak clubbed him down with the butt of his disruptor, and Picard fell to the deck, stunned.

 

“That was admirable, Captain,” Valak said, “but pointless and not entirely unexpected. Even as we speak, my warriors

are transporting to your ship. Korak, open a channel to theEnterprise.”

 

The Romulan first officer quickly moved to the communications console. “Hailing frequency is open, Commander,” he

said.

 

“This is Commander Valak of the Romulan warbird,Syrinx. Your ship has been boarded, and your captain is my prisoner.

I wish to speak with First Officer William Riker.”

 

As Picard slowly got to his feet, his head still aching from the blow, he heard Riker reply to the Romulan commander.

“This is Commander William Riker of the starshipEnterprise.”

 

Valak glanced at Picard and smiled. “Put him on the viewer, Korak.”

 

As Picard stared at the viewscreen on the warbird’s bridge, he saw an image that made his heart sink. Riker stood on

the bridge of theEnterprise flanked by two Romulan warriors, their disruptors drawn. Other warriors were covering the

remainder of theEnterprise bridge crew, and Riker’s face bore a taut and grim expression.

 

“Captain,” he said tensely, “are you all right?”

 

“For the moment, Number One,” Picard replied, rubbing his head. He glanced at Valak. “May I ask my first officer for

a report?”

 

“As you wish,” Valak replied.

 

“Status report, Number One.”

 

Riker took a deep breath. “The ship has been boarded, sir. The bridge and the engineering section have been seized.”

He moistened his lips. “Our scanners detected power surges aboard the warbird, but I assumed it was La Forge getting

the ship powered up. Instead, it must have been their transporter activating and beaming their boarding parties to

our ship. I’m sorry, sir.”

 

Riker looked shaken. He’s blaming himself for this, Picard thought. “You couldn’t possibly have known, Number One,”

he said. “Considering the circumstances, I would undoubtedly have made the same mistake. What about the crew? Damage

report? Casualties?”

 

He could see Riker’s jaw muscles clench as he replied. “I have been prevented from communicating with the away teams

aboard the warbird or with other sections of our ship, sir, but it seems there have been casualties. I have also been

informed that hostages have been taken on Decks Five, Seven, Twelve, Fourteen, and Thirty-six.” He swallowed hard and

continued. “They moved very fast, sir, and they knew exactly what they were doing.”

 

They did indeed, Picard thought grimly. The Romulans must have simultaneously beamed boarding parties to the bridge,

the engineering section, and the family housing decks. The whole thing had been an elaborate trap, flawlessly planned

and executed. His eyes were hard as he gazed at Valak. “You seem quite well informed about the layout of my ship,

Commander.”

 

“I have studied the construction of Federation starships in great detail, Captain,” Valak replied smoothly. “To quote

one of your Earth sayings, I know your ship like the back of my hand.’ I have also made a study of key Starfleet

personnel, and I might add that it is both a pleasure and a privilege to meet face-to-face with the famous Captain

Jean-Luc Picard of the starshipEnterprise.”

 

“I am sorry to say I cannot share your sentiment,” Picard replied, a hard edge to his voice. “My compliments,

Commander Valak. You have executed your plan brilliantly. However, if you expect to use your hostages to force my

unconditional surrender”

 

Valak held up his hand. “I would never expectyou to surrender, Captain. Quite the contrary. I fully expect you to

resist to the utmost of your ability. However, you will see that I have taken steps to ensure that your ability to

resist has effectively been neutralized.” He signaled his first officer to close the channel to theEnterprise , then

activated his communicator. “This is Commander Valak. All units, report.”

 

Picard listened with a sinking feeling to the litany of Romulan boarding parties reporting in. The Romulans were in

control of the battle bridge, the shuttle bays, and key environmental systems in addition to the family housing

decks, the bridge, and the engineering sections. He would not have thought it possible to execute so complex an

operation with such incredible speed and efficiency.

 

There was, he realized, only one way it could have been done. The entire warbird, in a sense, had been a loaded gun,

a booby trap set to go off and trigger the ambush the moment the ship was powered back up. The Romulan commander must

have had his boarding parties distributed throughout the warbird, with their coordinates fixed and locked in to the

transporter. He also must have had his transporter programmed with the coordinates of the assault points aboard

theEnterprise but Picard could not see how on earth Valak could have done that. It seemed utterly impossible.

 

His train of thought was interrupted when Data spoke to Valak. “Commander,” Data said, gazing curiously at the

Romulan commander, “a question, if I may be permitted?”

 

Valak turned to face him. “Ask.”

 

“In order to beam your boarding parties so quickly to key positions on theEnterprise , your transporter would have to

have been preprogrammed with the appropriate coordinates. I am puzzled as to how you anticipated the position of

theEnterprise in relation to that of your own ship at the time of your assault.”

 

Valak smiled. “An excellent question, Mr. Data, and an astute observation. Let us see if your reasoning capabilities

are equally as excellent. You already possess all the information you need to allow you to deduce the answer, if you

consider that there is only one way we could have accomplished that goal.”

 

Data frowned slightly. “You have already demonstrated your familiarity with the layout of Federation ships,” he

replied. “And since your entire assault plan depended on programmed coordinates and settings on your transporter,

sequenced for automatic engagement the moment the ship was powered up, the only unknown variable would have been the

position of theEnterprise in relation to that of your ship.” He cocked his head in a curiously birdlike movement.

 

Valak was watching him intently, confident that Picard was covered by his other officers. He actually seems to be

enjoying this, Picard thought. This was a very different sort of Romulan from those he had encountered in the past.

 

“There is no way you could have determined the position of theEnterprise when we arrived,” Data continued, “for you

were, to all appearances, quite dead. The logical assumption is that you employed some sort of drug to induce a state

of suspended animation so deep that tricorder readings would detect no life functions. In that state you could not

possibly have ascertained the position of theEnterprise in relation to that of your own ship. Therefore you must have

devised some method for your scanners to automatically compute our ship’s position and communicate it to your ship’s

computer, which would initiate the preprogrammed transporter functions.” Data frowned again. “However, that still

does not explain how so many varied coordinates could have been anticipated and plotted so quickly and so accurately.

There would not have been adequate time for you to” Data stopped suddenly and cocked his head in the opposite

direction, raising his chin slightly.

 

Valak watched him almost as if he were a teacher listening to the recitation of a gifted student, or a scientist

observing the object of his research.

 

“Of course,” said Data. “You programmed your scanners ahead of time to fix on the emissions of our dilithium

crystals. Once your scanners had ascertained the precise position of our matter-antimatter reaction chamber, your

ship’s computer initiated a preprogrammed sequence that allowed it to rapidly compute the necessary transport

coordinates aboard our ship, based on your knowledge of the layout of Federation vessels. It was all planned and

carefully programmed in advance, for automatic initiation once your ship was powered back up.” Data nodded. “Most

impressive, Commander. A brilliant and audacious scheme.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Data,” Valak replied. He turned to Picard. “Your android is every bit as sophisticated as I had

expected, Captain. It must be quite an asset to your command.”

 

“We prefer to think of Lieutenant Commander Data as a he,’ rather than an it,’” Picard replied dryly.

 

Valak gave him a slight bow. “I stand corrected. No offense intended, Mr. Data.”

 

“None taken, Commander,” Data replied.

 

Picard’s mind was racing. The Romulan was toying with them, confident that he had the upper hand. Unfortunately, so

far as Picard could see, hedid have the upper hand. There had to be some way to get out of this desperate situation,

but for the moment, Picard could only stall for time and await an opportunityassuming Valak would allow them one.

 

The doors to the turbolift slid open, and Picard heard a roar of rage as five Romulans dragged a struggling Worf onto

the bridge. His arms were bound behind him, but it still took all five of them to hold him. They threw him down onto

the deck and stood over him, breathing heavily.

 

“Commander, this Klingon filth killed five of our warriors before we could subdue him,” one of the Romulans said

through gritted teeth.

 

“He did no less than his duty,” Valak replied evenly. “You were warned to expect severe physical resistance from the

Klingon, were you not?”

 

“Yes, Commander, but”

 

“Then the men who died paid the penalty for not having properly prepared themselves. Lieutenant Commander Worf is now

our prisoner, and he will be treated with the respect due to a Federation officer of his rank.”

 

“But, Commander, surely you do not intend to allow this Klingon filth to live!”

 

Valak turned a steely gaze on his subordinate. “Do you question my authority?”

 

The Romulan warrior quickly averted his gaze. “No, Commander, of course not.”

 

Picard watched this interchange with interest. In battle, Romulans were always merciless and utterly ruthless. This

Romulan, however, was different. This Romulan has studied us, he thought, and studied not only our behavior but also

our social and military customs. This was a Romulan who believed in knowing his enemy, a Romulan whorespected his

enemy. Valak was a Romulan who believed in exhaustive preparation and who took nothing for granted. And that, Picard

thought, made him exceedingly dangerous.

 

“Forgive me, Captain,” Worf said heavily, as he got up from the deck. “I have failed you.”

 

“You did not fail me, Mr. Worf,” Picard replied. “The fault is mine. I fear I was simply out-generaled.”

 

“That is high praise indeed, considering the source,” said Valak, inclining his head toward Picard.

 

“It was said as a statement of fact, not praise,” Picard said. “You have seized my ship, Commander, and that

constitutes an open act of war.”

 

“Quite the contrary, Captain,” countered Valak. “You had boarded my ship and were attempting to pirate classified

information from our data banks. I have acted entirely in self-defense.”

 

“Nonsense,” said Picard. “Your ship was in Federation space, and you had gone to considerable trouble to disguise it

as a derelict. We merely responded to your distress beacon.”

 

“Which was operating on a Romulan frequency,” said Valak.

 

“Let us dispense with this pointless charade, Commander Valak,” said Picard. “We both know what has occurred here.

You set a trap to capture a Federation starship, and for the present, you appear to have succeeded. Now precisely

what do you intend?”

 

“Refreshingly direct, as I expected,” Valak replied. “Very well, Captain, I shall tell you what I intend. I intend to

hold your ship and your crew. Resistance will be dealt with harshly, but as I expect you to resist, I have made

preparations for it. I control your engineering sections, your bridge, and all of your ship’s vital functions. Any

attempt at resistance will result in the execution of hostages. And I shall start with the children.”

 

“And to think I was just beginning to respect you,” Picard said with disgust.

 

“I do not require your respect, Captain Picard,” Valak said flatly, “merely your compliance. Personally I find the

prospect of executing children loathsome, even if they are merely human children. However, I can think of no better

threat to compel your cooperation. And if you hope to engage your emergency autodestruct sequence, let me assure you

that my engineers will have deactivated it by now, as that was their first priority once they had seized your main

engineering section.”

 

Picard compressed his lips into a tight grimace. It seemed the bastard had anticipated everything. But no plan, no

matter no carefully conceived or brilliantly executed, was without a flaw. Somewhere the Romulan had overlooked

something. The trick was to find out what it was.

 

The doors to the turbolift slid open once again and three Romulans came onto the bridge, one of them an officer.

“Commander, I regret to report that nine of our warriors did not awake from their cryptobiotic sleep; they are now

dead.”

 

“Only nine?” said Valak. He nodded. “Acceptable losses, considering the experimental nature of the drug. Note in your

report that it functioned within acceptable parameters, though I would not care to repeat the experience.” He turned

to Picard. “You see, Captain, it was essential to the plan to convince you that we had all died, so we could not

resort to cosmetic subterfuges, as I quite expected your medical personnel to conduct examinations of our corpses.’

Therefore it was necessary to administer the cryptobiotic drug and then purge the ship’s lifesupport system so that

we would all literally suffocate as the drug was taking effect. It was altogether a rather unpleasant way to die.”

 

“You gambled that your drug would take effect within seconds of the time you would have actually died,” said Data.

 

“Correct, Mr. Data.”

 

“You risked losing your entire crew,” said Data.

 

“Correct again,” said Valak. “As you humans say, Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’ We also risked reviving too

early, before lifesupport functions aboard our ship had been fully restored by your engineering crew. I was

confident in their ability to diagnose the problem, however, and I took care not to make it too difficult for them.

Fortunately the risk paid off.”

 

“You still have not told me what you want,” Picard said.

 

“Ah, yes, forgive me,” Valak replied. “To begin with, I want certain information from the classified data banks of

your ship’s computer.”

 

“Then you are doomed to disappointment,” Picard said harshly. “Nothing you can do will compel me to surrender

classified information.”

 

“Not even the execution of the hostages?” said Valak. But then he held up his hand before Picard could reply. “No, of

course not. To safeguard the hostages, you would comply with my demands only to a certain point, where they would not

conflict directly with your sworn oath as a Federation officer. Beyond that point, you would do your duty, even to

the point of destroying your own ship and all aboard it. Such is the responsibility of a Federation starship captain,

and you would carry it out unfailingly, whatever your personal feelings might be. Perhaps not every starship captain

would, if faced with such a choice, but Jean-Luc Picard would never hesitate.” Valak smiled. “You see, Picard, I know

you. Even though we never before met face-to-face, I know you. I could recite your distinguished service record down

to the last minute detail.”

 

“Indeed? What have I done to inspire such scrutiny?” Picard asked, his voice laced with irony.

 

“In short, Captain Picard, you have excelled at what you do,” Valak replied. “You see, I am considered something of

an anomaly among Romulan commanders in that I also happen to be a scholar, and my chosen field of study is human

culture and behavior, especially where it applies to Starfleet. I have focused my research on those officers whose

records indicate that they are among the very best in Starfleet. The elite, if you will. And your name, Captain

Picard, heads the list.”

 

“I suppose I should feel flattered,” Picard replied sarcastically.

 

“No, Captain, you should feel proud,” said Valak. “Proud of your accomplishments and those of your crew. Your ship is

considered the finest in all of Starfleet, and I regard it as a most fortuitous circumstance that it was

theEnterprise that took the bait I offered. This situation affords me the rare opportunity to test my mettle against

yours. The finest Starfleet has to offer, tested against the elite of the Romulan Command. I find the challenge

stimulating.”

 

“You seem already to have won the test,” Picard replied wryly.

 

“If you seek to find a weakness by appealing to my ego, Captain, you are, as you humans say, barking up the wrong

tree. My ego is strong and healthy, but it is tempered with a fine edge of pragmatism. This contest is only just

beginning. To use a metaphor from your human game of chess, I have opened boldly and taken control of the board, but

the match is only just begun. Even now, as we speak, you plan strategies and gambits, with a mind to dislodging me

from my dominant position and gaining the advantage. I am most anxious to see how the play develops.”

 

“You certainly seem to have done your homework, Commander,” said Picard. “Romulan intelligence is clearly much better

than we had supposed. However, if you know that nothing you can do will compel me to surrender classified information

from my ship’s data banks, then you must also know that any attempt to bypass the safeguards of those data banks will

result in the data being wiped.”

 

“Indeed, the information I require would be erased,” Valak agreed, “if I were to make any attempt at hacking,’ as I

believe you call it. However, thanks to our Romulan intelligence, and to one agent in particular, whom you were so

kind as to return to us, that will not be necessary.”

 

Picard frowned in puzzlement. “An agent whom I returned to you?”

 

“Sir,” said Data, “I believe Commander Valak is referring to Subcommander Selok, the Romulan spy who posed as an

ambassador to Starfleet from the planet Vulcan. If you will recall, we did not discover the deception until a

transporter accident was staged, designed to make us believe the so-called ambassador had died. It turned out to be a

clever ruse to cover up their agent being transported to a Romulan warbird in the vicinity.”

 

“Yes,” Picard said, “I remember now. It was quite a coup for Romulan intelligence.”

 

“Perhaps more of a coup than you might think, Captain,” Valak said. “Our agent was able to glean from Starfleet

certain coded references to Hermeticus Two.”

 

Picard was aware that Valak was watching him carefully for a reaction. “Hermeticus Two?” He frowned. “That means

nothing to me.”

 

“Indeed?” said Valak. “Well, we shall soon see. Korak, escort Captain Picard to the transporter room. We are going to

pay a visit to theEnterprise.”