The following story is based on characters created by Gene Roddenberry and copyright by Pa

The following story is based on characters created by Gene Roddenberry and copyright by Paramount Pictures Corporation. No infringement of that copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 1988 by David B. Mears and may not be reproduced in any form without this copyright notice attached and without the prior consent of the author. Star Trek: The Next Generation "Games People Play" (Part 1 of 10) Captain Jean Luc Picard stood looking out at the stars through the window in his ready room. He always felt so calm and relaxed looking out at the stars. It helped whenever the pressure of captaining one of the largest starships in Star Fleet wore him down. And right now he was oh so tired, after the last two months, two grueling months, but now at last they were headed home. Or at least it was like heading home. He gave a little sigh, walked around and sat down at his desk, and punched the button that would tie him in to the computer log. ``Captain's log, stardate 42419.6,'' he began. ``After spending two months on patrol duty near the Romulan Neutral Zone, the Enterprise is ready for a rest. We have already redocked with our saucer section which we left behind in the Omega Ceti system while we were on patrol and we are now headed for Star Base 29. The strain of being away from their families and of being on constant alert status has left quite a toll on my crew. We are desperately in need of rest and relaxation, and I plan to give my crew some time off when we reach Star Base.'' Picard paused for a moment, as if he were trying to think of something to add, then he simply said ``End log.'' and punched off. Just then, his private intercom chimed at him and the voice of William T. Riker greeted him saying, ``Captain, we are receiving an urgent message from Starfleet Command. Do you want to take it in your ready room?'' ``No, Number One,'' Picard answered wearily, ``I'll take it on the bridge. I'll be there in a moment.'' ``Now what?'' he mumbled to himself as he got up from his desk and headed toward the door to the bridge. ``One thing we don't need right now is more excitement.'' As he entered the bridge and walked up to take his seat on the conn, Lt. Worf announced from behind him, ``Message coming in now, Captain.'' On the large view screen at the front of the bridge, the usual view of stars passing by at speeds that a few hundred years ago would be unthinkable slowly faded out and was replaced by the image of a man sitting behind a huge desk covered with stacks of papers, several 3-D photocubes, and assorted brick-a-brack collected from throughout the known galaxy. ``Ah, Admiral Kremczac, to what we do we owe the pleasure of your call?'' said Picard, as cheerily as he could muster. ``I'm afraid this is not a social call, Captain,'' replied the admiral, a dour look on his face. ``I was afraid of that,'' Captain Picard muttered back, low enough, he hoped, that Kremczac wouldn't hear. ``Don't worry, Captain. I know you've been out for a long time under difficult circumstances and I'm not about to deprive you or your crew of the much needed rest you deserve. We have a request from the Theta Niobe star system for you to go there and pick up an under-secretary Wilson. I'm not sure what it's all about, but the order came straight from the top. This shouldn't divert you too long, and it is on your way to Star Base 29.'' ``Yes, Admiral, of course. Is there anything else, Admiral?'' ``No Captain, that's all. Kremczac out.'' On the view screen Admiral Kremczac reached forward and out of viewer range, and the image on the Enterprise screen transformed itself back into moving stars. Throughout the bridge, faces turned to look at the captain, each with an unvoiced question mark upon it. Next to him, his first officer took it upon himself to voice those questions for all the others. ``What's going on, Captain?'' ``I wish I knew, Number One. We'll just have to go to the Theta Niobe system to find out, I suppose.'' Then turning again toward the front of the bridge he continued, ``Navigator, set course and speed for the Theta Niobe system, warp six.'' Without turning, Ensign Wesley Crusher reached up to his navigation panel to lay in the course and responded, ``Theta Niobe system, Warp six, aye Captain.'' Captain Picard rose from his seat and began walking toward the turbolift doors, saying as he went, ``I'm going to my quarters. Number One, you have the conn. Notify me as soon as we reach Theta Niobe, then meet me in transporter room five and bring Lt. Worf with you.'' Commander Riker began to acknowledge, but the captain disappeared into the turbolift with a whoosh of doors closing behind him. ----------------------------------------------------------------- The captain lay on his bed staring at the ceiling for quite some time trying to get some rest but finding none. His mind kept whirling around the events of the past two months and of the past two hours. None of it made any sense. At last, the familiar chirp of the intercom sounded and the voice of his first officer announced that they were entering orbit around planet Theta Niobe four. Picard sat up and pushed his way into a standing position. Stretching his back, he made an attempt to straighten his uniform and then left his room at a brisk pace and headed for the transporter room. Commander Riker and Lt. Worf were arriving from the opposite direction just as he reached the door to the transporter room. ``Good timing, Number One. Now let's see what this is all about,'' he said, as the three of them entered the room. ``Theta Niobe four reports under-secretary Wilson ready to beam aboard, sir,'' said the technician behind the transporter console. ``Very well. Bring him aboard, Ensign. Energize,'' responded the captain. The silence was replaced by the hum of transport, and the emptiness of the transporter chamber was replaced first by the shimmer and glitter of transport, and finally by a man about six feet tall and slightly plump. He was wearing what looked like a uniform, though certainly not standard Starfleet issue. Picard assumed it to be the trappings of the office of Federation under-secretary. ``Captain Picard, I presume,'' the man said as he stepped down from the transporter pad, smiled, and held out his hand in greeting. ``I'm Wilson and I'm very pleased at last to meet you. I've heard so many good things about you. Though my full title is Under-Secretary, Department of State, in charge of Treaty and other non-Federation Contact Affairs, you need not worry with all that, Secretary will be sufficient, if somewhat inaccurate.'' ``Secretary Wilson,'' Captain Picard replied as he took the offer of Wilson's hand and shook it. ``This is my first officer, Commander William Riker,'' he pointed back to where Riker was still standing, ``and my security officer, Lt. Worf,'' pointing then in Worf's direction. ``Now, sir, can you tell us what this is all about?'' ``You mean they didn't tell you, Captain? I assure you the secrecy was not intentional, but you know the bureaucracy, Captain. Well since no one told you anything, I suppose you don't know where we're going either, eh?'' A broad smile appeared on Wilson's face. ``I'd appreciate it if we could leave for Olympia as quickly as possible, Captain, I'm needed there quite urgently.'' ``Olympia?'' said Riker, ``that's where the Federation Games are being held, isn't it?'' ``Quite right, Mr. Riker. I was on my way there when my transport ship became disabled and I was forced to seek repairs here in Theta Niobe. The time it will take to repair my ship is more than I can spare and so I asked the Federation council to get Starfleet to send by the nearest transportation available to allow me to complete my trip. You see, Captain, this year the Games have been opened to non-Federation worlds for the very first time. It's important, from a diplomatic standpoint, that I be there.'' ``Yes, yes, of course,' said Captain Picard, then tapping his insignia communicator continued, ``Picard to bridge. Set course for Olympia, best possible speed.'' ``Aye, sir'' came the reply. ``When the Federation contacted me back, Captain, to say that it would be the famous starship Enterprise that would be picking me up, they also said that you were on your way to Star Base 29 for some R & R. I do hope that you'll change your mind and that you and your crew join me instead on Olympia. I can provide passes for your crew to enjoy the Games and I think they will enjoy that as much as anything at the star base.'' ``Yes, you're quite right, Secretary Wilson. Probably more so, in fact. I'd be delighted for the Enterprise to stay on at Olympia when we drop you off. Shall we return to the bridge, Mr. Secretary, where I can introduce you to the remainder of my bridge crew?'' And with that, Captain Picard gestured toward the hallway through the open doors and the four of them left for the bridge. Once in the hallway, Secretary Wilson let himself and Picard fall behind the others and when he felt they were far enough back he said in a low voice, ``Actually, Captain Picard, I specifically requested the Enterprise come to pick me up. There's been some rumors of terrorist activity being planned to disrupt the Games and I wanted the biggest and the best of Starfleet there to help protect against that. I do hope you understand.'' Captain Picard remained silent as they walked on and joined the others in the turbolift at the end of the hallway. ----------------------------------------------------------------- News spreads quickly within the confines of a starship, especially when it's good news, and the Enterprise was soon turned from a ship full of tired crewmen to one filled with eager anticipation. After all, it wasn't everyday that the Federation Games were held, and even less often that the duties of a starship would allow it to be there when it happened. By the time the ship had reached the world of Olympia, the crew were already preparing to leave the ship for the festivities. Outside transporter room five, a group of five walked slowly down the hallway toward the door that led to the outside world and a temporary break from the complexities of shipboard life. ``Have you all decided which events you plan to see?'' said a smiling Commander Riker. ``I'm going to the handball and volleyball tournaments,'' replied Geordi, ``they're good demonstrations of hand-eye coordination. What about you?'' ``I think I'm just going to lose myself in the crowds for awhile. Then I'll decide where to go. What about you, Doctor?'' ``I plan to visit the medical facilities,'' said Dr. Pulaski. ``I've always had an interest in sports medicine and how it relates to the other fields of medical science.'' ``Now Doctor,'' jibed Riker back, ``this time we're here for fun, not work.'' ``My work is fun, Commander. I enjoy what I do and I enjoy learning more about it and how to do it better.'' ``I find the concept of fun to be quite interesting,'' broke in Data. I believe it was a member of the Enterprise many years ago who said `The more complex the society, the greater the need for play.' I plan to visit as many of the events as I can. There is much study to be done.'' That statement produced a chuckle from the group, but that in turn produced only puzzlement on the face of the one who had said it. ``What about you, Worf?'' Commander Riker again queried. ``You've been unusually quiet today.'' ``I plan to go to the martial arts competitions first. That's what Tasha would have wanted to see.'' The group silently acknowledged the memory of their absent friend. ``Then I plan to see the zero-G wrestling and finally I want to go where they are doing demonstrations of Klin Zha, a contest from my home worlds.'' ``I've read about that,'' said Data, ``is it not much like the human game of chess only with real players instead of board pieces?'' ``It is a game of combat, or if you will, a learning for combat. There are many levels to the playing of Klin Zha, only some of which vaguely resemble the pretensions to combat that the game of chess attempts.'' ``Ah, well here we are,'' interrupted Riker, hoping to prevent combat from breaking out in the halls of Enterprise. ``Let's plan to meet back at our beam down point in two hours. We'll regroup then and compare notes.'' And then to the technician behind the transporter, ``We're ready, Ensign, Energize.'' As the last remaining sparkle and hum faded to nothing, the technician noticed some unusual readings on his readout board and deciding he needed a special piece of test equipment to check on it further he left to go retrieve it. Though he wasn't gone for long, it was long enough. Almost as soon at the door was closed behind him, the transporter console came to life, as if on its own, and the familiar sparkle began again and then resolved itself into a man wearing what appeared to be a gray warmup suit. The man looked around the transporter room cautiously, then proceeded to the door, into the hallway beyond, and on to try to find the captain of the ship. On the bridge, Captain Picard sat in his center chair filling out forms for a waiting Yeoman when the turbolift doors opened and the gray clad man emerged onto the bridge. He looked around quickly, spotted the captain in the center seat, and bounded down the ramp toward the center of the bridge area and asked, ``Captain?'' ``I'm Captain Picard,'' came the surly reply. ``Who are you and what the devil are you doing on my bridge? How did you get past security?'' ``I saw no one, no security, on my way here, Captain. As for who I am, my name is Lorien, Lathe Lorien, and I'm from the planet Himsa as part of the athletic delegation to the Federation Games. I am here, Captain, to request that you grant me political asylum in your Federation.'' ----------------------------------------------------------------- Picard stood silently for what seemed like minutes, but was really only a few seconds. ``Political asylum?'' the Captain spit back. ``This is certainly unexpected. Do you realize the trouble you've put us all into young man?'' Saying nothing, the man in gray merely put his arms out in front him, palms up, as if asking for forgiveness. ``Very well,'' continued Picard, ``but I can't just arbitrarily grant you asylum on the spot without more details. I must talk with people and make arrangements before anything can happen.'' Then, tapping the circle and arrow insignia on his chest, he barked, ``Picard to senior Enterprise staff. Return to Enterprise immediately and meet me in the bridge conference area. Ensign Wesley Crusher, report to the bridge.'' Picard gave a long and hard look at the man who had just complicated his life right when it needed simplifying, then gave a sigh that was really more of an hmmph and pointed toward a door and barked, ``In there.'' On the planet below, five members of the Enterprise crew who had just barely arrived were preparing to return and wondering what sort of emergency could have cut their visit so short. By chance alone, they arrived on the bridge together and at the same time as the boy ensign. ``Wesley, stay here and man the bridge. Let me know immediately if anything unusual happens or if anyone tries to contact us from the planet.'' ``Yes, Captain,'' came the reply as the young ensign slipped into his seat at the navigation console. ``The rest of you,'' continued Picard, his attention now focused on the remaining five people, ``into the conference room. There's someone you need to meet there.'' The six then proceeded toward the off-bridge meeting area with Wesley watching them in curiosity and a slight bit of envy until they disappeared behind the closing doors. Once inside, the five who had not been on board when the intrusion had taken place noticed the man in gray sitting quietly as they sat down and waited for the captain to give them an explanation. ``Please repeat what you told me and then continue with your story,'' the captain said as he nodded toward the stranger at the end of the table. ``As I already told your captain,'' he began, ``my name is Lathe Lorien and I come from the planet Himsa. I am here at the Games at the invitation of your wonderful Federation as part of the athletic delegation from my world. I have asked your captain to grant me political asylum.'' At that, the startled officers looked at each other, then at the captain, and then at the stranger who sat before them. Continuing, he said, ``The government of my planet is a brutal and totalitarian one. There is no personal or political freedom, there is very little food or clothing or other of the daily necessities to go around, unless you are a member of the government, or favored by it as I was. But even those who are favored have no personal liberty. We are slaves to the will of those in power, to present a good impression to those who do not know what it is really like on my planet. I grew to hate the inhumanity that was rampant on my world and I decided that somehow I must get my message out to the civilized world.'' The irony of the last two words fairly dripped from his mouth, it was so thick. ``I must let people know what really goes on there. I must.'' ``I have heard of the planet Himsa,'' interjected Data. ``Is there not a Federation outpost there?'' ``Yes, Data,'' replied Picard, ``although Himsa is not a member of the Federation, the Federation does have a treaty with Himsa establishing an outpost on one of the moons of a nearby planet. It is a most important outpost for the Federation because of the strategic location of the Himsan system.'' Then, to the stranger, ``Why has no report of this brutality been reported to the Federation previously by our outpost personnel?'' ``Our government is very careful, Captain, to maintain the secrecy of its atrocities. They do not allow outworlders to visit, nor do they allow any communication to leave the planet other than the officially sanctioned propaganda. They are very careful indeed, Captain.'' ``Yes, I seem to recall now that the Himsan planetary ruling council insisted that negotiations be carried on in Federation territory and they were very secretive about their home world. The Federation thought it odd at the time, but it is a fundamental Federation belief that each world is entitled to its own privacy and nothing was pressed in the matter. Though even now, with what you say, I'm not sure that we can really do anything.'' ``Captain, you must grant me asylum,'' pleaded Lorien. ``I'm not really even sure I can do that, Mr Lorien. Nothing like this has come up in the Federation for over a hundred years. I don't know what Federation policy is in these areas any more.'' ``Captain, please, if you return me to my home world, they will kill me. They do not tolerate any type of heresy against the government. People on my planet just disappear, never to be heard from again. All record of their existence disappears. Captain, you must not,'' with extra emphasis on the words must and not, ``return me to my planet.'' ``Well, Mr Lorien, I'll see what I can do, and I'll certainly take what you've said into account, but I must consult with Federation officials before I can do anything.'' ``Thank you, Captain, I suppose I can ask no more of you.'' The man now seemed more calm as the excitement of a moment earlier now seemed to drain from his body. ----------------------------------------------------------------- But it was a calm that was almost immediately interrupted as the chirp of the intercom was followed by the voice of Wesley Crusher. ``Captain Picard, you asked that I let you know if anything happened. We're receiving a message from the planet below. It's from the Himsan security delegation.'' ``You,'' Picard pointed to the Himsan athlete, ``stay here. The rest of you, come with me, but say nothing about what has transpired in this room.'' Six people got up and left to return to the bridge, one staying behind and looking worried. ``Put the message on the main viewer, Mr. Crusher,'' the captain said as he strode back into the room and took a space standing in the middle of the bridge. On the screen the image of a somewhat large man appeared wearing a very dark suit. Though it wasn't quite a suit, and it wasn't quite a uniform either, but rather it was something in between. Behind him stood several more men, equally large and similarly dressed. The man in front, evidently the head of the security delegation, pinched up his face and began to speak in an obviously controlled manner. ``Captain Picard, I believe? Would you be so kind as to tell me if you have come into contact with a member of our athletic team, a Mr. Lorien?'' ``Mister,'' Picard began, and hesitated. ``You may call me Schtutz, Captain,'' the man on the viewscreen smiled back. ``Mr. Schtutz,'' Picard began. ``Colonel Schtutz, actually, Captain,'' the smile never leaving his face. ``Colonel Schtutz, then. I'm afraid I don't quite know what you're talking about.'' ``Come now, Captain, I know that Mr. Lorien has somehow made his way onto your ship. Don't play games with me, Captain. I want him back. You will return him to me.'' ``Colonel Schtutz, I don't know how you do things on your planet, but one does not address the captain of a Starfleet starship and demand anything. We do not work that way. If the man you are looking for is on this ship, and I emphasize the word if, he will be returned to his rightful place, but not before my superiors are aware of the situation and I have been advised of any special instructions I need to know.'' ``I assure you, Captain, they are already well aware of the situation and they will instruct you to cooperate with me to the fullest extent possible. But please, Captain, contact them and find out for yourself. We can be patient.'' The image on the screen faded and was replaced by an arc of the planet below. ``Worf,'' barked the captain, ``Get me Secretary Wilson on the planet.'' ``Right way, Captain.'' On the screen in front of them, under-secretary Wilson, in charge of non-Federation relations appeared looking worried. ``Captain Picard,'' he nodded in acknowledgement, ``I was expecting this call. It is no doubt in response to a message you just received from a Colonel Schtutz of the Himsan security delegation?'' ``So then he has already contacted you, Mr Secretary, as he said?'' replied the Captain, now a little less sure of himself. ``Yes, Captain.'' ``Are you also aware, Mr Secretary, that the athlete in question has asked for political asylum in the Federation?'' ``No, Captain, I was not aware of that, but I don't see how that affects anything. You must return the athlete back to the Himsan authorities. The federation cannot interfere in the internal policies of another government, particularly one that is not a Federation member. Such a public display of disdain for our own rules would make it impossible for us to get new members who are already unsure of our intentions, and might very well lose some of the members we already have. The resulting disorder is just the thing the Romulans and Ferengi and others have been hoping for. Besides, Captain, as you probably know, there is a Federation outpost nearby Himsa, and by the treaty establishing that outpost, they have no weapons there to defend themselves. An act such as this could provoke the Himsan government to retaliate in some way against those people. I don't like this any more than you do, Captain, but the rules by which civilized governments operate themselves preclude us from doing anything else.'' ``I understand, Mr Secretary. Picard out.'' As the image again transformed itself back into the blackness of space and the planet below, Picard said, ``Bring Mr. Lorien onto the bridge.'' ----------------------------------------------------------------- As Lorien walked slowly out onto the bridge, Picard began to speak. ``Mr. Lorien,'' and then pausing for a moment, as if deciding some great fate, he continued, ``I'm sorry, but I cannot grant your request for asylum. If it were only you and your people had not asked for your return, then maybe, but there are many other lives and many other consequences at stake.'' ``Captain, please, I don't want to die,'' was all the stranger could answer, his body nearly shaking from the strain. ``I wish I could help you. Believe me, I do. But Federation law prevents us from interfering in the internal affairs of other worlds, and the Federation considers this an internal affair for your own government to decide. I wish there were something else I could do, but when your government representatives asked for you back, it was taken out of my hands.'' From a corner of the bridge, Doctor Pulaski broke in, ``Captain, how can you dare do this? Is life not sacred to you? You've heard this man say he will be killed if you turn him over. Do you not care about that?'' ``I do, Doctor, more than you can know. More than you can know, Doctor, but I have no proof that what he says will happen, and I have the welfare of the entire Federation to consider.'' ``Captain, may I speak?'' came a gravelly voice from behind Picard. It was that of his weapons and security officer, and the only Klingon serving on a starfleet ship, Lt. Worf. ``Yes, go ahead Lieutenant.'' ``Captain, it's not been that many years since tyranny ruled on some of the worlds of the Klingon Empire. My people have always been a warrior race and that will sometimes breed tyrants. We are not proud of that, and in our more recent growth we have eliminated those who once existed within our realm. But Captain, I know what tyranny can mean. Although I have never been there, or seen it, I know what his world is like. I know what the people in charge are like. If you return this man to those people, he will be killed. More than that, Captain, he will be forgotten. There is no worse fate for any being than to be as if that being had never existed. If you return this man into such an environment, then they have already defeated the Federation and all that it stands for.'' ``I'm sorry,'' Picard answered in a tone that was part anger and part exasperation,``all of you. If I had another way, I'd take it, but there is no other way. Now, please get me the Himsan security delegation, I have to tell them that they will have their man.'' ``Captain,'' interrupted Wesley from his seat at the navigation console, ``sensors show we are being scanned by a transporter probe.'' ``Worf, put up shields and secure this ship,'' the captain barked in response. ``We will not have anyone beaming in or out of this ship without due authorization. Then get me that Himsan party, immediately.'' Worf's hands flew over the security and communications console and the picture that emerged on the viewscreen was one of consternation and frustration. It was a picture showing the Himsan security delegation huddled together, apparently arguing, some of the members gesturing wildly with their hands. It was a picture of men trying desperately to explain why they have failed and not being very successful at that either. Picard watched them for a moment, his anger growing rapidly until it exploded with the force of a canon shot in a single word. ``Schtutz!'' the Captain yelled, intentionally leaving off any gratuity. ``I demand to know how you thought you could possibly get away with attempting to board this vessel without proper authorization.'' His anger was abating, but only slightly. ``Captain Picard,'' came the measured response, ``we must have Mr Lorien back, and since it appeared that you were not going to give him to us, we decided that we would have to come and take him, by force if necessary.'' ``Colonel Schtutz,'' a little more outwardly calm now, though the anger was obviously seething just beneath the surface, ``You are dealing with a vessel of the Federation Star Fleet. No one does anything by force on or against such a vessel without paying dearly for the attempt. I was preparing to contact you to make the arrangements for the transfer of your prisoner,'' ``Captain, please, he is a citizen, not a prisoner,'' interjected Schtutz. ``when you attempted this little stunt of yours,'' continued the captain as if he had not been interrupted. ``Now,'' the captain paused for a moment, ``now you must wait until I decide what I will do.'' The smile leaving his face at last, Schtutz replied, ``Captain, we will have our man. We will go to your Federation authorities and will do what ever we have to do to get you to release him to us.'' ----------------------------------------------------------------- Picard paused for a second, and then thinking better of what he might say were he to reply, he simply gave a quick wave of his hand and the communication was cut off by Worf in back of him. ``What now Captain?'' posed his first officer. ``I don't know, Number One.'' ``Will you let him go now?'' asked his chief surgeon. All eyes were upon him. ``More than ever now I would like to thwart the will of that man,'' Picard finally replied, gesturing at the screen though the image had long since been replaced with stars and planet. ``Yet I still see no other alternative to turning Mr. Lorien over to them. I'll be in my ready room, thinking. At least I can let them stew for a while.'' Sometime later, as Picard was once again standing and staring toward the stars out the window of his office, he was interrupted by a call on his intercom. ``Captain,'' came the voice of Worf, ``We are receiving an urgent message from the planet below. It is from the local authority's chief magistrate.'' ``I'll be right there,'' came the response. As he left his office and re-entered the bridge, he continued, ``Put it on the main viewer.'' An image appeared on the screen of a short, fat, balding man with beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. ``I wonder if all magistrates in the universe are short, fat and balding'' Picard thought to himself. ``Captain Picard,'' the man began, obviously very ill at ease. ``I regret that I must inform you that Secretary Wilson is missing.'' ``Missing?'' bellowed Picard. ``Missing, what do you mean, missing?'' ``We believe that he's been abducted, Captain.'' Do you know that for sure?'' ``We received a message to that effect. We tried tracing where the message came from but we couldn't find it. ``How could this have happened, Magistrate?'' Picard said incredulously. The magistrate was obviously feeling very uncomfortable when he replied, ``Secretary Wilson was busy with Federation matters and had not been seen for some time, and our local security people were being kept busy by the Himsans, Captain. It just happened.'' Then, after a slight pause, ``Oh, and Captain, the message we received also indicated that a further message would be sent later.'' ``Yes, the Himsans,'' Picard muttered to himself, ``They said they would do whatever they had to.'' Then, addressing the image on the viewscreen, ``Thank you, Magistrate.'' And to his security officer, ``Worf, get me those Himsans again.'' As the image of the Himsans once again appeared before them, Picard exploded, ``Schtutz, I demand to know what has happened to Secretary Wilson. I'll have you know that kidnapping a Federation official is tantamount to a declaration of war.'' ``Picard, we do not have your precious secretary. When we arrived at his office to discuss the matter of Lorien, he was already missing. Frankly Captain, I resent your implication that we had anything to do with his disappearance. And, I think, an official apology is in order if you wish to avoid a nasty diplomatic incident.'' ``Captain,'' came the ever even voice of Data from his science station, ``Sensors indicate that Secretary Wilson is not with the Himsan security delegation, nor is he anywhere within the immediate vicinity of them, and in fact, sir, I cannot find him anywhere on the planet's surface.'' ``You see, Picard, we had nothing to do with it. Now about that apology, we could be persuaded to forget the whole matter if you'll just turn over Lorien to us now. What do you say, Captain?'' ``Colonel Schtutz, I am too busy with important matters at the moment to be dealing with you and your demands.'' Again from behind him, Picard heard Data report, ``Captain, sensors now show a small scout ship off our port bow and there's a message coming in from the ship. The ship was not there a moment ago Captain, it must have been cloaked.'' ``Switch to the message coming from that ship, Lt. Worf,'' the Captain requested, now looking and sounding somewhat anxious. The image upon the screen changed from one of the Himsan security team to one of a small and cramped room, apparently the bridge of the scout ship. Several people stood scattered around the bridge, Picard could only assume they were men because each of them wore elaborate costumes and masks designed to conceal their identities. In the back sat Secretary Wilson surrounded by two men, one on each side of his chair. ----------------------------------------------------------------- ``As you can see, Captain, we have Secretary Wilson with us. He is quite safe and will remain so if,'' extra emphasis was placed on the word if, ``if you release over to us the fugitive you are now holding.'' ``Don't do it Picard,'' Secretary Wilson shouted out from the background, a gag being immediately produced and inserted into his mouth. ``What could you possibly want with Mr. Lorien, here,'' queried Picard, ``especially when he is being so fervently sought by his own people.'' ``What we want him for, Picard, is of no concern to you. Perhaps we want him simply because others do.'' ``My concerns, whoever you are, extend to the well being of every person aboard my ship, whether they be a member of my crew and their families, or anyone else.'' ``It really doesn't matter, Captain. The only way you will get Wilson back is if you turn over the fugitive to us. You have one hour to decide, Captain.'' ``Whether you give us one hour or one year, it makes no difference, our answer will be the same. We can not and we will not deal with terrorists. All officials of the Federation and members of Starfleet are aware of that, and understand that, individually, they are expendable. Secretary Wilson understood this when he accepted his post. We will not deal with you.'' ``One hour, Captain,'' was the only remaining response from the terrorist ship, before they broke contact. On the bridge of the Enterprise, everyone turned to face Picard. Behind him, on the viewscreen, the image returned to the Himsan security delegation, now standing by quietly. ``Captain,'' reported Wesley, ``the scout ship has disappeared again, when they cut off communications.'' ``I say we attack,'' growled Worf, ``disable their ship, and take back Secretary Wilson by force.'' ``How, Lieutenant?'' responded Picard. As Ensign Crusher has reported, they are not to be found. And even if we did, somehow, find the ship, and attack, do you think we would find Secretary Wilson still alive? These are terrorists, Worf, they are not honorable men or honorable warriors.'' ``Still, Captain, doing nothing makes me uneasy.'' ``Well, we certainly don't want an uneasy Klingon on our hands, do we? Mr Data,'' turning to the rear of the bridge and toward Data seated at the science station, ``not even a cloaked ship can hide itself completely. What can you tell us?'' ``That the scout ship is nowhere to be found, Captain. As you indicated, Captain, neither the Federation, nor the Klingons, nor the Romulans, nor the Ferengi, nor any other group known by the Federation has a cloaking technology that does not leave even the slightest sensor disturbance. And yet, Captain, they are gone.'' ``Do you have a theory, Mr. Data?'' ``Only that perhaps they are employing a cloaking device which was designed for a much larger ship. By using such a device, and at very high energy levels, they might be able to successfully and completely hide a ship of that small size.'' ``Yes, perhaps, but who the devil are they?'' Picard mused. ``I can not tell you that exactly, Sir, but while they were uncloaked, I did run a full sensor scan on their vessel. Despite their outward appearance, they are definitely humanoid, very possibly human. But Captain,'' ``Yes, Mr Data?'' ``There is one thing I do not understand. Cloaking technology of any sort, particularly this sophisticated, is a very highly guarded secret. How could terrorists obtain such technology unless they were working with the cooperation of the government organizations which protect that technology?'' ``I don't know, Mr. Data, that is an intriguing question, but for now, we must concern ourselves only with how to go about getting Secretary Wilson back safe and sound.'' ``Captain,'' interjected Lorien, temporarily forgotten, ``When I came aboard your ship to seek my freedom, I knew my life was in danger, but I did not intend to jeopardize the lives of your crew or anyone else. I will turn myself over to these people and you will get your friend back.'' ``Absolutely not, Mr Lorien, I will not permit you to endanger yourself in such a way. We do not know why they want you, nor do we know what they will do with you if they manage to get you.'' ``Captain, whatever it is, it can be no worse than what my own government will do with me, and you are quite willing to give me back to them.'' ``We don't even know they will release Secretary Wilson if they get you. No, I will not allow you to do this.'' ``They will release him, Captain. Would you hold me against my will, Captain, as if I too were a hostage?'' ----------------------------------------------------------------- Picard hesitated for the briefest of moments as he made a decision that he did not like to make. ``No, Mr. Lorien, you are correct, I will not.'' ``No!'' came a staccato outburst from the forgotten Himsan security people still on the main viewscreen. ``He belongs to us, Picard. You must give him to us.'' ``If Mr Lorien wishes to turn himself over to these people, of his own free will, then I cannot stop him. If he had not asked to do so, I would have been obligated to return him to you. But, since he has asked, I must allow him to do as he wishes. You are, of course, free to try to negotiate with the terrorists on your own for Mr. Lorien's return if you wish. Once he has voluntarily joined them, it is no longer a Federation matter.'' And turning to face his own security chief, he continued, ``Worf, I've had enough of these people.'' Worf nodded acknowledgement and proceeded to sever the communications channel to the planet below and the Himsan security delegation. ``Captain,'' said the Himsan athlete, looking tired now but visibly more calm than at any other time since coming aboard the Enterprise, ``before I go, I'd like to speak with you privately in your office.'' Picard hesitated for a moment, then lifted his right arm as if to point toward the ready room, and with a firm yet compassionate voice said to his first officer who was obviously dubious at the suggestion, ``It's all right Number One.'' Then together, the two of them, the captain and the athlete, left the bridge. Once in the ready room with the door closed behind them, the Himsan once again spoke. ``Captain, I presume your office is equipped with a security screen?'' ``I don't think that will be necessary, Mr Lorien. I trust my crew implicitly. They will not disturb us, nor would they attempt to spy on us in any way.'' ``I'm sure that is true, Captain, but I must insist.'' Picard looked at the person standing in front of him and wondered just who this man really was. Then he reached down to his desk and touched a button, and when he had done so, the window behind him became opaque and an invisible shield shutting out all forms of radiation and sensor probe encircled the room around them. ``What I am about to say, Captain, must never, under any circumstances, go beyond this room. When we are through, you must forget I ever said anything.'' He paused for a moment, then continued, ``I am probably making the biggest mistake of my life saying anything to you at all, but I perceive that you are a good man, Captain, and you deserve to know something. Know this, Captain, I will be well taken care of once I get to that ship and you will get Wilson back and all will be well.'' ``But how can you know that?'' ``I'm sorry, Captain, but I've said too much already.'' ``Perhaps you think so, but to me you've not said enough. What are you hiding? What are you not telling me? Maybe I can make some educated guesses. First, those terrorists out there are actually working to help you escape.'' Picard paused for a moment to look for a reaction, but seeing none he continued, ``But why would you allow them to endanger an innocent life like that of Secretary Wilson? Or perhaps his life never was in danger. He was in on this too, wasn't he? Surely this isn't a Federation sponsored activity! The Federation is a peaceful and open society, such secrecy and deception have no place in a society like this.'' ``The Federation is a peaceful and civilized society, Captain, and yet we are standing here on the most powerful military vessel ever created.'' ``The Enterprise is an exploratory vessel, Mr. Lorien, not a military one.'' ``An exploratory vessel, Captain? With enough phaser power and photon torpedoes to wipe out an entire planet and more, Captain?'' ``The Enterprise sometimes finds herself in unpleasant circumstances. Although the Federation is a peace loving society, there are others out there who aren't. We must protect our peace, when necessary, from those like the Romulans who want to take it from us. And as we explore and pursue other peaceful missions, we sometimes are confronted by strange and unusual circumstances which require the use of force. It is never pleasant when it happens, but it does happen and we must be prepared for it.'' ``Precisely, Captain. The Federation is a civilized society, but not everyone else is. Sometimes the rules of a civilized society aren't sufficient to deal with those who don't play by the same rules.'' ``What I still don't understand is why the Federation would go to this much trouble to rescue a simple athlete from a world we know so little about.'' Then, as if sudden enlightenment had come upon him, he turned back again to face the only other man who could hear what he was about to say. ``Maybe you're not just a simple athlete, are you? Maybe you're not even a citizen of Himsa at all. Maybe you're,'' but before he could finish verbalizing the thought, Lorien interrupted him saying, ``Captain, you are a remarkable man indeed. There are, after all, many more types of games people play than those being played by the athletes on the world beneath us, and for some of those games, the stakes are much higher than the winning or losing of a medal or a ribbon. Now, I'm afraid our conversation has come to an end and I must be leaving.'' ----------------------------------------------------------------- ``I understand,'' replied the captain, and with the push of another button on his desk, the doors to bridge opened and the two people who now shared a very important secret left the room and proceeded through the bridge to the turbolift that would take them to the transporter room. As they passed through the bridge, and without pausing, Picard called to the puzzled looks of his bridge staff and said, ``Worf, Geordi, come with us. Mr. Crusher, please have Doctor Pulaski meet us in the transporter room, and then lay in a course for the Himsan outpost. Be ready to leave as soon as I give the word.'' With that, the four men entered the turbolift and the doors whooshed shut behind them, leaving only puzzlement for the people who remained behind. Once in the transporter room, Geordi fixed himself behind the transporter controls and a moment later the ship's chief medical officer entered and said, ``What's going on here, Captain?'' Secretary Wilson will be rejoining us momentarily. I want you to give him a quick check over as soon as he arrives. Make sure he's well.'' ``Captain,'' reported Geordi from his console, ``I have a positive two way transporter lock. Both parties will be simulported when you give the order.'' ``Are you sure it's Wilson on the other end of the lock?'' ``Absolutely, Captain.'' ``Very well then, energize.'' Then turning back to the man on the transporter platform, before he disappeared, ``I wish you well, may you wear your wreath in good health.'' Picard could just see the man smile and nod before he faded out in a sparkle and on the transporter pad next to his, another sparkle began to form and became the person of Secretary Wilson. When he had fully materialized, the doctor stepped forward and produced a small mediscanner which she promptly waved through the air and after doing so said, ``He appears fine, Captain, but I want to do a more thorough exam in sick bay.'' ``Captain,'' Geordi said, now looking at the sensor station in the transporter console, ``the other ship has disappeared again. For all I know, it could have left this star system as well.'' ``And so should we, Picard,'' answered Secretary Wilson from the transporter pad. Then, stepping down, he continued, ``The Himsans will not like the outcome of this. Our outpost and our people could be in danger. We must warn them.'' ``I am already prepared, Mr. Secretary.'' Then tapping his insignia communicator, ``Mr. Crusher, please see that we are on our way, maximum warp.'' And then turning to those around him, ``Mr. La Forge, you may return to your duties. Doctor, the Secretary will join you shortly in sick bay for that examination you promised.'' As the others left, Wilson held up his arm to detain Captain Picard for just a moment, and said, ``Captain, you'll never know just how much this all means to me and to the Federation.'' And as the secretary turned to leave the room, Picard answered him, ``No, I don't suppose I will,'' and smiled.