He had spent the morning organizing the files to be sent over to the Tian An Menalong with Zweller, and classifying all the other relevant documents stored within the Enterprise’s computer banks. Although he could have assigned the task to Data and gotten it done more efficiently, he preferred to do it himself, though every deletion, transfer, or security classification chipped away at whatever good humor remained within him.

If only there had been some way to read the encrypted information on that Romulan data chip,Picard thought bitterly. At least then, Marta and I would have been able to warn some of Section 31’s next targets. Perhaps even set some traps.

Riker had contacted him a short while ago, telling him that the Tian An Menwas approaching. The time of the scheduled rendezvous was almost upon them.

Just minutes from now, Corey Zweller will be free.He cursed under his breath.

The ready‑room door chimed quietly, then slid open. Vice‑Admiral Batanides hesitated for a moment before stepping in. “Good morning, Jean‑Luc,” she said, moving over toward the replicator.

“Either you have some news of which I’m not yet aware, or you mean that rhetorically,” he said, forcing a smile.

She ordered almond amaretto coffee with cream, and then turned toward him as a cup sparkled into existence in the replicator. “No. No good news. And the Tian An Menis almost within transporter range.”

Picard regarded her for a moment, his hand to his chin. “Marta, I need to speak with you off the record. Trulyoff the record.”

“Sure, Johnny,” she said. She took a seat before the desk, her coffee cup in hand.

He sighed heavily. “I’ve been running this week’s events over and over in my mind. I’ve been reading and rereading the logs. And I’m still tremendously uncomfortable with Admiral Rossa’s orders.” He looked her directly in the eyes. “There are a lot of unpleasant consequences associated with this mission that I can accept. I can accept that a sovereign people have elected to reject Federation membership. I can accept that the Romulans have gained three sectors of relatively worthless territory at our expense. I can even accept the fact that we never learned whether Falhain’s assassination was the work of Section 31, the Romulans, Ruardh, or even Grelun himself.

“But I cannotaccept the prospect of Corey Zweller leaving this ship a free man after what he’s done.”

She looked supremely concerned. “What are you telling me, Johnny?”

“I have no intentionof simply turning Zweller over to the Tian An Men.It’s clear that Section 31 has contrived a way to sweep his misdeeds under the rug, as well as any proof of the bureau’s existence that we might furnish.”

Batanides sipped her coffee, but said nothing, nor gave any hint of her feelings. Picard continued. “I’m planning on proceeding to Earth with Zweller aboard, where I will appeal directly to the Federation Council. Something must be done about Section 31.”

She appeared to mull his words over for a moment, then set her cup down on Picard’s desk. “That would be a huge mistake, Johnny. We’re not talking about taking on a trio of drunken Nausicaans here, after all.”

And we know how wellthat little confrontation went,Picard thought. Perhaps that was part of her point.

She resumed: “The stakes are too high, and I won’t have you jeopardizing your career. Heaven knows how many officers have had their lives ruined by this agency– and how many more mightbe, given this supposed ‘ Romulan spy list’–but I won’t allow youto be among them.”

“Marta, this travesty cannotgo unchallenged.”

“And it won’t. I warned Zweller last night that Section 31 isn’t invulnerable.” She recovered her cup, took a drink, then continued. “Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea for me to warn him, but I think it’s safe to assume that he was already expecting one of us to go after him anyway.”

Setting her cup down, she reached forward and put her hand atop Picard’s, on his desk. “I’mthe one who should go after him, Johnny. I’ll use whatever resources are available to me through my rank and position in Starfleet Intelligence. Resources that not even the captain of Starfleet’s flagship has. And if it’s within my power, Commander Roget and his crew–and everyone who died aboard the Slayton–will see Corey and his superiors brought to justice.”

She paused for a moment, giving his hand a slight squeeze. “Believe me, we both want the same thing, but you’retoo high‑profile. And if you go off half‑cocked, you might throw away any chance we have of ever stopping Section 31. You could drive them even further underground.”

Now it was her turn to look him squarely in the eyes, her gaze studying him. “You have to do what you’ve never been inclined to do: nothing.And, you’re going have to trust me to handle things . . . quietly.”

Picard looked down at her hand atop his, feeling their warmth. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said quietly.

“What more could they do to me, Johnny?” She gave him a sad smile. “All I’ve got left to lose is my friendship with you. So I ask you: Pleasejust walk away from this. Leave it to me.”

Though Picard’s emotions roiled like Chiaros IV’s stormy atmosphere, he could not refute her logic. There simply weren’t any good alternatives to her plan. “All right, Marta. I’ll keep my mouth shut. And I’ll stay out of your way while you gather enough evidence to expose the bureau.”

Batanides grinned warmly. “I hope you won’t stay toofar out of my way, Johnny. I’d hate it if it took another life‑and‑death crisis to bring us back together.”

The door chimed again. Batanides quickly removed her hand from Picard’s, and sat back in her chair. “Come,” Picard said, and Commander Riker stepped into the room a moment later.

“Captain, the Tian An Menis standing by. They’re requesting that we beam Zweller over immediately, along with all information pertaining to our Geminus Gulf mission.”

Picard looked up at Riker wearily, and handed him a padd. “Number One, I’d like you to go to the brig and supervise the commander’s release. I . . . It’s probably best that I don’t see him again for a good long while.”

“I understand, sir.”

Looking into his trusted first officer’s eyes, Picard knew that he didunderstand.

Sean Hawk and Ranul Keru rounded a corner in the corridor, and came face‑to‑face with a security contingent led by Commander Riker. Two burly security officers accompanied him, flanking Cortin Zweller, who was dressed in a fresh Starfleet uniform.

“Hello, sir,” Hawk said to Riker, nervous.

“Lieutenant,” Riker said. “Congratulations again on your derring‑do in the Geminus Gulf. I’m sure Ranul is at least as happy as we are that you’re back among us.”

Keru grinned. “It wouldn’t be much of an anniversary celebration without him.”

Hawk smiled as well. To Riker, he said, “Thank you, sir.”

“See you on the bridge, Lieutenant,” Riker said, leading his party on in the direction of the transporter room.

As Zweller moved past Hawk, he stopped and grabbed the young man’s arm lightly. Riker and the security officers stopped as well. “It looks as though you’ve made your choice,” Zweller said, his voice low.

“It was the onlychoice I could make,” Hawk replied, looking Zweller defiantly in the eyes.

Without another word, Zweller turned and followed Riker. Hawk watched him go, without a trace of regret.

Hawk looked over at Ranul, who smiled and playfully ruffled his hair as they continued down the corridor toward holodeck three. Swashbuckling combat against Bluebeard and his pirates–which he and Keru had postponed for several days now–awaited them. It would be a tame diversion compared to the events of the past week. They might even get to enjoy some time together on a sandy beach after defeating the enemy’s galleon full of brigands.