Subject: Repost: The Witness, Parts 1-5
From: <[email-masked]>
Date: Tue, 7 Jul 1992 11:21:18 EDT
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative

I have received a number of requests to repost my story, The Witness.
I am posting the entire thing in two sections, Parts 1-5 and Parts 6-10.
Hopefully this will give everyone a chance to read it.  I will still
try to honor e-mail requests for the story.
Enjoy!
        ---Kit
Comments, criticisms, kudos and flames to [email-masked]
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

                      ---- The Witness ----
                      ----- Parts 1-5 -----

By Kathryn J. Aikin
copyright 1992

================
Captain's Log, Stardate 46147.2.  "We are en-route to meet the
U.S.S Newton, where we will pick up Admiral Godon and transport
him to Starbase 133.  While at Starbase the computer logs from
our last mapping mission will be transferred for analysis."
Jean-Luc Picard punched the log button on his console as he
finished the entry.  "I feel like I'm running a taxi service," he
muttered to himself as he walked over to the replicator.  "Tea.
Earl Grey, hot." he spoke to the computer.  The door to his ready
room chimed as he picked up the beverage.  "Come!"

The doors to his ready room slid back to reveal the tall form of
Picard's second-in-command, Will Riker.
"I have the shore leave schedule, as you requested." Riker said,
stepping into the room.

"Fine, thank you." said Picard, taking the board from Riker's
outstretched hand.  "I assume you've included yourself in this
list?"

"Yes sir, as per your 'advice'," Riker answered.  The
Captain hadn't advised him, he'd practically ordered Riker to
take some time off.

"Good.  About time, too." said Picard, setting the computer board
down on his desk.  "So tell me, Number One," he said, sitting on
the couch, "what are you planning to do with your vacation?"

"Well, I've heard that there's a great bar on the starbase.
Deanna owes me a cheap dinner." he said.  "She lost a bet." he
added, flashing the Riker smile.

"Indeed.  What was the nature of this wager?" asked Picard.

"It was, um, rather personal."

"I see.  And what was your bet, had you lost?"  Jean-Luc enjoyed
putting his self-confident officer on the spot from time to time.

Me and my big mouth, Will thought.  "I would have had to sing."

"Sing?"

"Yes Sir.  A public serenade, in 10-Forward, with the song of her
choice."

Picard chuckled and sipped his tea.  Troi was exceedingly
creative when it came to wagers.  "I gather that you are relieved
that you did not lose?"
"Yes Sir.  Very relieved."

"Thank you, Commander, that will be all."
Riker nodded and left the room.  Picard smiled again and picked
up a book from his side table.  Perhaps I should play more poker,
he thought, opening the book.
----------
Deanna Troi was listening to a subspace communication from her
mother, Luaxanna Troi.

"And you know," continued the older Betazoid, "that you aren't
getting any younger.  You need to get out more.  Have a little
fun!"

"Yes, Mother." answered Deanna patiently.  She was used to her
mother attempting to run her love life.  Not that she'd had one
recently.

"What about that lovely Will Riker?  Are you two ever going to
get back together?"

"We're just friends, Mother."

"Hmm.  If you say so.  He still has feelings for you, you know."
said Luaxanna, coyly.

"Mother, please."  Deanna loved her mother, but at times, she
just wanted to strangle the woman.  You can be so single-minded
at times, she thought.

So can you, replied Luaxanna mentally.  I think you get it from
your father.  No, I take that back, you get your hopeless love of
rules from him.  Be more spontaneous!

Deanna sighed.  It was impossible to argue with the woman.  "Was
there anything else you wanted, Mother?"

"No, Little One, I'll let you go.  I love you, Dearest!"

"I love you too.  Goodbye!"  Deanna closed the connection and
leaned back in her chair, relieved that the conversation was
over.  Talking with her mother took a lot out of her, she
realized.  The bell on her door sounded.  "Come in," she called,
grateful for the distraction.

Will Riker stepped inside.  "So, have you decided where you're
going to take me out to dinner yet?"

Troi sat up.  "You're not gloating, are you?"

"Who, me?  Of course not." said Riker, grinning broadly.  "Well,
maybe just a little."

Deanna stood up and placed her hands on her hips.  "I let you
win, you know."

"You did not.  I won fair and square." replied Riker, standing
over her.

"I knew you were bluffing.  I chose to fold." she answered,
unintimidated by the taller officer.

"Really, Counsellor, you're becoming a sore loser," he teased.

"I'm a sore loser?  Me?  Who was it that threatened to put Worf
on nursery duty just because he had three eights?" she retorted.
She knew Riker had been kidding the Klingon, but Worf had looked
positively horrified at the prospect.

Riker opened his mouth to reply when the red alert siren screamed
into action.  Both officers snapped back into their starfleet
training as they headed for the bridge.

============
"Report, Mr. Data," said Picard as the android relinquished the
command chair.

"An unidentified vessel is approaching at warp nine, bearing 113
mark 47.  Automatic deflector shields have been activated."
replied the android Commander.

"Configuration?"

"Ferengi." growled Lt. Worf.  "It is the Bashk-Na."  The Ferengi
made his warrior skin crawl.  They reminded him of the trolls
from his childhood stories.

"Lieutenant, hail the Ferengi vessel." said Picard, yanking down
his shirt unconsciously.  He had just reached a particularly
interesting point in his book and was in no mood to deal with
Ferengi.

Worf's communications panel buzzed.  "They are ignoring our hail,
Captain."  Good, he thought.

"Captain, the Ferengi vessel has passed us.  They are continuing
to accelerate." said Data from his position at the conn.

Riker and Troi entered the bridge from the turbolift.

Picard frowned.  "Have they changed course?"

"Negative.  At this rate they will enter the Romulan Neutral Zone
in seven minutes."

"They're either running away or in a hurry to get somewhere."
speculated Riker.

Undoubtedly running away, thought Worf.

"Counsellor, can you sense anything from the ship?" asked Picard.
Troi looked uncomfortable.  "I'm sorry Captain, I can't read
Ferengi.  It's impossible for me to tell what they're thinking.
They may be afraid to respond, or they may just be ignoring us."

"Mr. Data, can we intercept the Ferengi vessel before it reaches
the Neutral Zone?"

Data pressed a few buttons on his station.  "No sir.  The Bashk-
Na has too great a lead."

Damn, thought Jean-Luc, I have no authority to stop them, but
this bears investigation.  "Data, plot a course back along the
Bashk-Na's path.  Let's see where they came from."

"Reciprocal course plotted, Sir.  There are nine planetary
systems along the Ferengi's path."

"Any of strategic interest?" asked Riker.

Data studied the panel.  "Negative.  Only two systems are
inhabited."

"Captain, we are receiving a priority one distress call from Zeta
IV." said Worf.

Data turned.  "Zeta IV is along the path that the Ferengi came
from."

Aha, thought Picard.  "On screen, Mr. Worf."

"It is audio only," answered Worf, touching the communciations
panel in front of him.

"...extensive fire damage.  We have many casualties...medical
assistance...equatorial mine.  This is a priority one
distress..."  The transmission faded into static.

"I'm sorry sir, the transmission is of very poor quality."

Riker shifted in his seat.  "Zeta IV?  I'm not familiar with that
planet."

Data turned to face the Commander.  "Zeta IV is a small planetoid
in the Doga Minor system.  It is home to a small mining colony
engaged primarily in the production of Dyilite."

"Dyilite?" said Riker.  "That's dangerous stuff.  I though
Dyilite was only begin mined by automated stations."

"Zeta IV has not yet been upgraded.  It is scheduled to be fully
automated in the next five years."  said Data.
"It appears that the upgrades did not arrive in time," said
Picard.  He stood and walked over to the conn.  "Mr. Data, how
far
to Zeta IV from our present position?"

Data quickly punched in the coordinates.  "One hour, twenty-
six minutes.  However, a detour will delay our rendevous with the
Newton."

"Understood, Mr. Data." answered Picard.  "Set course for Zeta
IV, warp eight.  Engage."

"Course plotted and laid in sir," repeated Data, "warp eight."

Picard touched his communicator.  "Picard to Dr. Crusher."

"Go ahead Captain," came the doctor's voice from the intercom.

"Doctor, we are responding to a distress call from a Dyilite
mine.  I expect we will have casualties to deal with."

"Captain, Dyilite is extrememly volitile.  I'll have to set up a
quarantine field in shuttle bay 4.  The survivors will be
contaminated, but they'll have to be evacuated from the surface."

"Make it so," said Picard as the doors to his ready room slid
open.  "I'll alert you when we reach Zeta IV.  Mr. Worf, signal
the Newton that we will be slightly late for our rendevous.
Number One, you have the bridge."

"Aye, Captain." answered Riker.
---------------
"Sir," came Worf's voice over the intercom, "we are in orbit
above Zeta IV."

"I'm on my way,"replied Picard, touching his communicator.  The
doors to his ready room slid open as he walked onto the bridge.

"Have you been able to hail the colony?

"No Sir.  I am receiving only an automated distress signal."

Picard sat in his bridge chair, automatically straightening his
tunic.  "Try to hail them again."

Worf moved his hands over his station.  A blinking light in the
lower left of the console caught his eye.  "Captain we are
receiving a message.  However..." his voice trailed off.

Picard turned in his seat to look at the Klingon.  "Yes?"

Worf scowled at the panel.  "The message is being transmitted at
2 giga hertz.  Radio waves."

Picard raised his eyebrows in surprise.  "Radio?"

"Yes Sir."

"On audio, Mr. Worf."

"This is Zeta IV," came a woman's voice through static, "please
respond."

"This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship
Enterprise.  We picked up your distress signal.  We are
prepared..."

At that moment, Deanna Troi clasped both her hands to either side
of her head.  "Oh, no," she moaned, rocking slightly forward in
her chair.

"Counselor?  Are you alright?" asked Picard.

"It's horrible," answered Troi.  "I'm getting images from someone
on the planet.  It's sorrow mostly, and..." she breathed in
sharply, "...and pain.  It's a Horta, Captain."

"Enterprise, come in."

"Yes, Zeta IV, we're still reading you.  We can have you beamed
on board for medical treatment immediately.  Tell me," he asked,
"does your colony include Hortas?"  Jean-Luc had never met a
member of the legendary species.  The thought of meeting a
centures-old Horta sent a shiver of excitement through him.

"Yes, they assist in the drilling." came the reply. "Two were
lost in the explosion.  Captain, we've been seriously
contaminated with Dyilite crystals.  We can't ask you to expose
your crew to this."

"Our ship is equipped with an adequate quarantine field.  I
assure you, we are in no danger."

"Very well Captain," came the hesitant reply, "we await your
signal."

Riker tapped his communicator.  "Bridge to transporter room
three."

"O'Brien here."

"Is the quarantine field in shuttlebay four ready yet?" said
Riker.

There was a slight pause.  "Yes, Dr. Crusher has just confirmed."

"Beam the miners directly to the shuttle bay."

"Understood." answered the transporter chief.

Picard turned to Riker.  "I want you to oversee the operation,
Number One.  Counselor, I'd like you to go as well."

Riker nodded and rose from his chair.  "And I'd like to speak to
the colony's administrator as soon as possible.  I want to know
what happened down there."
-----------------
Beverly Crusher moved among the injured in shuttle bay 4,
checking on the work of her technicians.  She came across a woman
seated on a medi-bed, looking slightly uncomfortable.  "How are
you feeling?" the doctor asked, running the medical tricorder
over the woman's body.

"Not too bad.  I guess I missed most of the excitement." the
woman answered, turning slightly away from the instrument.

"You don't have any major injuries, just some superficial
chemical burns."  The tricorder flashed.  Beverly stared at the
reading.  "Are you originally from Zeta IV?" she asked.

"No one's from Zeta IV.  I was born on Earth."

"Really?  What are you doing out here?"  The doctor pressed a few
buttons on the instrument and continued to scan the woman.

"Oh, the challenge."  She regarded the doctor intently.  "Will I
live?"

"Of course, you'll be fine.  It's just that..."  Crusher was
interrupted by a call from one of her staff at the end of the
shuttle bay.  "You'll be fine." she smiled at the woman, walking
away from the table.  The woman watched her go, rubbing her
burned arm as another technician approached the table.

Riker and Troi entered the shuttle bay.  Deanna had been mentally
readying herself for the Hortas as they had walked down the hall,
but she found herself overwhelmed when the doors to the shuttle
bay slid open.  She swayed and grabbed the door frame as she
attempted to organize the telepathic load she was receiving.
Riker put an arm around her shoulders to support her. "No,
please, I'll be fine," she said, straightening up.  "It was
just a little overwhelming at first.  The Hortas are in emotional
shock, which they are transmitting telepathically."

"Can you speak with them?" asked the Commander.

"No.  I can only read their emotional state.  I can feel the
emotions behind their thoughts, but I cannot read the thoughts
themselves."

"Is there any way we can speak with them?"

"All operations involving Horta Pods automatically include a
telepathic translator, who acts as a 'go-between' for the Hortas
and the people who work with them.  I'm sure that one was
assigned to this colony." answered Troi.

"I'm afraid he won't be of any help," said Dr. Crusher as she
approached the pair.  "He was down in the mine when the explosion
occurred.  He and two Hortas were killed instantly.  Only three
Hortas made it back to the dome ahead of the fire, and I think
I'm going to lose one of those.  I feel like I'm working in the
dark.  I can't even ask it where it hurts."  Her voice carried
her frustration.  She looked back across the shuttle bay at the
severely damaged Horta laying on the floor.  Two other smaller
Hortas sat nearby, pulsing intermittently.  A large Horta moved
around the severly damaged being, nudging it now and then with
its bulk.  The injured Horta shook violently as technicians
applied a paste to its wounds.

Riker crossed his arms.  "Those Hortas are our only link to the
cause of this explosion.  You've got to keep them alive until we
can find some way to talk to them."

The doctor looked at him exasperated.  "I'll do my best,
Commander, but I'm trying to repair what is basically solid
rock."

"Of course, I'm sorry.  I'll let you get back to your work.  Do
you know where I can find the colony administrator?"

"Under that sheet over there," said Crusher grimly.  "The last
one out.  She refused to beam up until the Hortas and all other
personnel were safe.  The Dyilite crystallization was fatal."

Riker walked over to the draped shape and lifted the cover.
Starfleet had trained him to accept and understand death, but
this made even him cringe.  In contact with Dyilite, the woman's
carbon-based structure had been re-formed and transformed into
silicon, crystallizing her entire body.  The clothes had burned
away, leaving a transparent, human-shaped shell.  He could see
her internal organs through the crystal flesh.   "What a way to
die," he said, as he dropped the cover back over the woman's
body.

"Claudia knew what she was doing.  She saved many lives in giving
her own."

Riker looked up.  The voice came from a woman sitting on the bed
next to the covered administrator.  "And you are?"

"Mackie, Ayla S.  Assistant engineer, archeology team leader."
The woman straightened painfully, brushing a strand of auburn
hair away from her eyes.

"Relax, please.  Are you second in command?"
The woman smiled.  "There is no real chain of command on a mining
colony of twenty-four people and six Hortas.  Claudia was the
chief administrator and part-time communications expert, I was
the assistant engineer and archeologist.  On a small station,
we're all expected to command ourselves."  She rubbed her
reddened arm. "You have to be able to rely on everyone for your
survival."

The Commander moved around the bed to stand next to the engineer.
"Your arm looks painful." he said.

"Is this the informed opinion of a trained medical professional?"
Ayla replied wryly, looking up at him.

"Commander William T. Riker, at your service." he said, standing
at attention.

"And Counselor Deanna Troi," came Deanna's slightly amused voice
from behind him.  "Can you tell us what happened on the planet?"

Ayla sighed.  "The Hortas are in the best position to say what
happened down there.  The explosion occurred in one of their
tunnels.  With the loss of Brynn, though, I don't know how to get
through to them."

"Brynn?" asked Troi.

"Brynn Kale, our Betazoid telepath.  Because the Hortas
communicate telepathically, he was responsible for translating
between the colony and the Horta pod."  Ayla looked over at the
technicians hovering around the dying Horta.  "They can hear and
understand your thoughts, Counselor, but we can't hear their
response.  They want to tell us what happened.  We simply need to
find a way to hear them."  She looked back at Troi.  "Counsellor,
aren't you Betazoid?"

"Unfortunately, I'm only half Betazoid.  I'm more of an empath
than a telepath.  I wish I could communicate with the Hortas.
Perhaps then we could help them."

The hum of a transporter beam signalled the transfer of the
injured Horta to sickbay.
------
After the most seriously injured miners had been transferred to
sickbay, Dr. Crusher went back to her lab to begin her report of
the incident.  As she was going over the medical tricorder logs
of her staff, she paused for a moment.  Pressing her
communciator, she spoke "Crusher to Data."

"Data here," answered the android, after a moment.

"Data, I have some questions about the modifications you've been
doing on the medical equipment.  I've been getting some odd
readings from the latest scans.  Can you come down to my lab when
you have a moment?"
"Yes, Doctor, I will be there momentarily.  Data out."  Data
ducked a flying chair.  "Computer!  Freeze program!."  The
manufactured image of a drunken cowboy froze in his midair flight
across the saloon.  "Discontinue.  Save program, Data seventeen.
Exit!"  The computer tweedled in reply, replacing the bar scene
with the black and orange grid of the holodeck.
----
"Data, I've been getting some odd readings on my tricorder and I
was wondering if they might be caused by your adjustments." said
Beverly, rising from her chair.  She looked at the android and
stifled a laugh.  Data had not changed since coming from the
holodeck.

Data looked at the preliminary report.  "The modifications I
performed were designed to increase the range of the device, not
the scanning capabilities.  I intended the upgrades to enable the
tricorder to scan without being in close proximity to the
patient, much like the external scanners of the ship."  Data
pressed a few buttons on the display station.  "According to the
readings, the tricorder is functioning within acceptible limits."

Beverly sighed.  She was tiring of that phrase.

Data glanced up at her, recognizing her reaction to his answer as
one of discomfort.  He rephrased.  "What I mean to say is, the
tricorder appears to be working as it was designed to.  I do not
think that my modifications have been the cause of the reading
you received.

"Okay, thanks Data."

Data nodded and got up to leave.

"Oh, and Data?" called out Dr. Crusher as he walked toward the
door.  "You might want to get a five-gallon hat instead of a ten-
gallon.  That one's a little big."

Data narrowed his eyes and cocked a finger at her.  "Thanks,
little lady," he said, in a John Wayne drawl.

Beverly giggled as the doors slid shut behind him.
------
[A staff meeting]
"Most of the miners from Zeta IV suffered severe Dyilite
exposure, radiation poisoning, and chemical burns.  Since the
Hortas were doing the actual tunneling, they got the worst of it.
I don't have the facilities to properly treat the Hortas, so I
recommend that we put into a starbase as soon as possible."

Picard nodded as the Doctor finished her report.  "Number One,
have you been able to ascertain the cause of the explosion on the
planet?"

"No sir, the administrator and the colony's telepath died of
Dyilite exposure.  It appears that only the Hortas can give us a
clear view of the incident."

"Captain, I suggest beaming down an away team to survey the
site." said Worf.

"I wouldn't recommend it Captain." said LaForge, "The entire
infrastructure of the planet's crust has been compromised.  The
planet is in danger of collapse."

Data took up the flow.  "The Dyilite crystals are re-forming as
they combust.  The new crystal lattice is not the problem; the
bonds are weakest where the Dyilite has transformed the existing
mineral into silicon.  If we can stop the Dyilite combustion, the
remaining structure should hold."

"How long before the crust collapses, Mr. Data?"

"At the present rate of expansion, I would estimate three hours,
thirteen minutes."

Picard sat back in his chair and exhaled.  "How do you propose we
stop it?"

"Dyilite is a crystalline element, similar to dilithium, except
in the fact that is it highly reactive with carbon dioxide.
However, Dyilite burns at a relatively low temperature, 150
degrees Celsius.  If heated above 300 degrees Kelvin, the Dyilite
will fuse to become a flexible, plastic-like substance, which,
unlike its crystalline form, is stable."

"We think and extended phaser blast into the Dyilite lattice in
front of the fire will fuse the lattice, creating a sort of fire
wall.  This should stop the combustion." finished Geordi.

"Risks?"

"We still do not know what caused the Dyilite to ignite in the
first place.  There is always the chance that our attempts to
stop the fire will cause another chain reaction."

Picard rubbed his upper lip with his right index finger.  "Mr.
Data, I want a complete analysis of the original explosion and a
working hypothesis as to its cause before that planet collapses.
I have no wish to inadvertently make the same mistake twice.
Number One, I want you and Counselor Troi to speak with the
survivors again.  Perhaps they have some clue as to how this
disaster got started.  And find out if the Bashk-Na visited Zeta
IV recently.  This may have been what the Ferengi were running
from.  Dismissed."
------
"How are the Hortas?" asked Crusher as she entered the sickbay.

"The most severly damaged Horta is stablized.  The treatment is
of a temporary nature.  The creature will not survive without
specialized care." answered Dr. Selar.  The Vulcan doctor's
matter-of-fact tone made every diagnosis sound like a
proclimation.  She was, however, unconcerned with her perceived
beside manner.

"And the other three?"

"Undamaged.  They are no longer in need of medical assistance."

"Good.  Dr. Selar, may I speak with you?"

"Of course." answered Selar.

Crusher walked into the rear of the sickbay.  "I have been going
over some of the scans we took as the miners were brought in.
Most are normal, or as normal as can be expected with this kind
of a situation." she paused, considering.

The other doctor waited impassively for her to continue.

"I recorded some interesting readings from one of the miners.  I
thought at first it might be a tricorder malfuntion, but
Commander Data assured me it was not."

"The most recent level 1 diagnostic scan of the tricorders did
not show any malfunction," said Selar.  "Please continue."

The doctor folded her arms.  "The point is, I don't think it was
a malfunction.  It could be nothing, but it was odd, nonetheless.

I picked up traces of fluoride in one of the miners."

Dr. Selar raised one Vulcan eyebrow.  "Fluoride has not been in
use for quite some time.  What is the patient's origin?"

"She says she's from Earth, but I haven't received a response
from the Starbase carrying the records of the colony, so I can't
be sure."

"If fluoride was indeed recorded, it is unlikely that the patient
is of Earth origin.  It has not been used there since the early
twenty-second century, 2113, to be exact.  Fluoride is still used
in some more remote colonies.  The colonies on Tau Ceti Nine and
Pendrog's World still use it as a tooth decay prevention.  It is
logical to assume that the patient is not from Earth, but an
isolated Earth colony." Dr. Selar said evenly.  "It is possible
that the Dyilite could have interfered with the patient's
molecular structure."

Dr. Crusher walked over the the lab's table terminal.  "Not
likely.  They were all decontaminated.  You'd have to be in close
proximity to Dyilite for an extended length of time to get change
on the molecular level, and the person would have been long dead
by that time.  This one showed only first and second degree
burns, indicating that she'd been exposed for only a few
minutes."  She paused, tapping her long fingers on the table.
"It just doesn't make sense!"

"Then either the tricorder report or the story is at fault."
replied the Vulcan.

"Exactly.  But which one?" asked Beverly, staring at the monitor.
---------
[end part 2]
========
The door chime on Ayla Mackie's guest quarters sounded.  "Who is
it?" she called.

"Commander Riker."

Ayla turned off the technical display she had been studying.
"Come in."

Riker stepped just inside the threshold.  "I was wondering if
you'd like to join me for a drink in 10-Forward.  That is, if
you're feeling up to it."

Mackie stood up and smiled.  "I am fully recovered, thank you,
and I would be pleased to accompany you."

Will noted with pleasure that the miner did indeed look fully
recovered.  She had changed into a loose fitting olive-colored
tunic and pants that suited her slim frame.  Her arms bore no
trace of the burns she had received on the planet.  Riker moved
aside and let the engineer precede him out.  As she passed him,
he realized that she was quite tall, almost 2 meters.

Riker smiled to himself. "I wonder if she knows how to wrestle,"
he thought.
-----------------
[10-Forward.  Ayla and Will are sitting at a table near one of
the tall windows of the bar.  A starfield and the edge of Zeta IV
can be seen.]

"Tell me about what happened down there." asked Riker.

Mackie took a deep breath.  "For all intents and purposes, it was
a normal day.  I was looking over some core samples with Brynn.
The Hortas had been digging in a new area with a particularly
strong Dyilite seam.  They had also brought back some interesting
pieces."

"Pieces?  Of what?"

"Possible archeological pieces.  Shards of styrite, aluminum,
glass.  Could have been left there by a passing asteroid or a
crashed ship, but I didn't think so.  Neither did Brynn."  The
woman smiled wistfully.  "He was so enthusiastic.  He was sure
that these were indications that something had lived on the
planet.  So when the Horta point pod called him, he went
immediately."

"Did he say what the Hortas had said to him?"

"No, only that they'd 'found something'.  Brynn wanted to be the
first to see it.  It's against procedure to go alone into the
mine, but he was into his enviro-suit and out the door before I
could stop him.  Damn fool," she growled, "he knew I was angry.
Betazoids can be extremely stubborn."

Will grinned.  "Yes, I know."

Ayla grinned back.  "Yes, I think you do," she said.  "Anyway, I
got on communications and tried to make contact with him.  He was
too far into the mine for the signal to get through.  Then came
the explosion."  She paused, placing her hand over her eyes.
"The whole planet shook.  I saw the Pod Mother go racing into the
shaft through the air-lock.  And then the fire, spreading through
the rock around the dome.  It was like...like...San Francisco, or
Tel Aviv.  People screaming orders, the radiation from the fire
seeping into the dome.  World War Three." she whispered.

"I'm sorry to make you talk about this," said Riker, squeezing
her arm reassuringly, "but we have to know what happened."

The miner sat silent for a minute.  "I really wish I knew.  The
only thing I can think of is that maybe Brynn had a leak in his
enviro-suit.  Why he wouldn't have set off the sensors in the air
lock, though, I don't know."

She fell back into thoughtful silence.  Riker decided to change
the subject.  "You seem to know quite a bit about Earth history."

"I hold advanced degrees in history and archeology." she
answered, glad for the reprieve.

"If that's true, then why are you in a mining colony?  Why aren't
you doing research or teaching on Earth?"

Ayla smiled the smile of one who's been asked the same question
hundreds of times before.  "Because, Commander, there is always
the chance that you'll come across archeological finds in a
mining operation.  On a colony I'm a big fish in a little pond.
On Earth I'd just be another historian.  Besides," she added,
"life is much more exciting on the edge of disaster.  Isn't that
why you're in Starfleet?"

"Partly.  There are other reasons too." Riker said, leaning his
arms on the table and cradling his drink.  "But I'd rather talk
about you.  I'm still curious as to how..."
"Hello Will, hello Ayla." came the voice of Deanna Troi.  "May I
join you?"

"Of course, please do." answered Ayla, motioning to the adjoining
chair.

Deanna set her drink on the table and sat down.  "Don't let me
interrupt."

"Commander Riker was just telling me why he chose Starfleet,"
said Ayla, sipping on her syntha-Ale.  "It was a fascinating
tale."

"Oh please, do continue, Will," said Deanna.

"Uh, well actually, I was interested in how Ayla came to be
stationed in a mining colony." said Riker, looking slightly
confused.

"Which is a short and boring story," said Ayla quickly.

Deanna frowned slightly at the abruptness of the woman's
response.  There was something not quite right in the attitude
that was emanating from her.  She opened her empathic senses to
the woman to locate the source of the inconsistency...

HATEHATEHATEFEARHATEFEARCANSHESEEMUSTNOTKNOWHATEFEARSORROW

Deanna winced with the immediacy of the response and shuddered
slightly as she pulled her mind back.

Ayla pretended not to notice the Counsellor's reaction and sipped
on her drink.  "How did you manage to get an assignment such as
the _Enterprise_?" she asked Riker.

"Hard work, good grades, and a few well-placed bribes." he
joked."

The two women smiled in amusement.

"That's a lovely brooch you're wearing Ayla.  May I see it?"
asked Deanna.

"Of course."  Ayla removed the pin and handed it to her.

Troi turned the piece over in her hand.  The design was
reminiscent of a coiled serpent.  "I've never seen anything quite
like this.  It reminds me of ancient Bjorran workmanship.  Where
is it from?"

"It's Celtic.  I have a fondness for old Earth antiques."

"I guess being an archeologist has its advantages.  You must have
access to all sorts of interesting objects." said Troi, handing
the brooch back.

"If I'm lucky.  Archeology is an intermittently rewarding
career."

"Kind of like prospecting." said Riker.

"Exactly.  Ninety-nine percent mud, one percent gold."

Riker suddenly realized he was gazing into the miner's green
eyes.

Troi realized it too, and yawned.  "Well, I must be tireder than
I thought.  I'll leave you two to your storytelling.  Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Counselor." said Ayla.

Will rose from his seat and watched her leave 10-Forward.  "Can I
get you another drink, Ms. Mackie?"

"Please, not so formal.  Call me Ayla.  And yes, I would like
another."

He picked up their glasses and walked to the bar.  "Another round
please, Guinan." he said to the hostess.

Guinan began to refill the glasses.  "Who's your friend,
Commander?"

"One of the miners from Zeta IV.  A fascinating woman."

"Really.  From Zeta IV you say.  Funny, she looks like someone I
once knew."  She finished pouring the drinks.  "But that was a
long time ago.  Probably just a coincidence."

"Probably," answered Riker absentmindedly, taking the drinks off
the bar and carrying them back to the table.

Yes.  Probably. repeated Guinan to herself.
------------
[Sickbay]

Deanna Troi was sitting next to the injured Horta in sickbay,
trying to get some sense of what the creature was thinking.  I'm
here, she projected.  No response.

Beverly Crusher stood a little away from the pair, watching the
scene.  "Anything, Deanna?"

Troi shook her head.  "No.  I can't be sure if the Horta can even
hear me.  It's as if I'm reaching into space."

The doors to the sickbay slid open to reveal Captain Picard.  He
stepped in and walked over to the Doctor.  "How is your patient,
Doctor?" he asked.

"Not good, I'm afraid.  It's vital signs are stabilized, for
now."

"Have you been able to make contact with it?"

"Counselor Troi has been attempting to reach the Horta without
success."  She paused briefly and continued in a lower voice.
"What I'm afraid of, Captain, is that the Horta has been damaged
psychologically.  There may not be anything in there to reach."

A hint of sadness passed over Picard's face.  "What about the
other three?"

"Troi has had more success there.  Apparently, even though they
can't talk directly, they've been able to communicate that they
don't know the cause of the explosion."

"She can speak with them directly?" asked Picard, surprised.

"No, I think it's more of an exchange of feelings.  Deanna asks
the question, and the Hortas respond in a positive or negative
manner.  Sort of like twenty questions."

"Captain, may I make a suggestion?" said Doctor Selar.

Picard jumped slightly.  He had not noticed the Vulcan standing
in the shadows, and Vulcans could be extremely quiet when they so
chose.  He nodded to Selar.

"I propose a mind-meld."

"Are you sure, Selar?  The Horta has been badly injured.  We
don't know how it will react to a mind-meld." said Crusher.

"This Horta has information about the explosion that we require.
We have been unable to contact it by other means.  Therefore, a
mind-meld is the logical alternative.  Besides," added the
doctor, "we will then know 'where it hurts'."

Beverly smiled at the Vulcan's use of the term.  She was right,
of course.  Even if the Horta had not known the cause of the
disaster, simply knowing what medical assistance it needed was
important enough.

"Captain?" asked Selar.

"Permission granted." responded Picard.

The Vulcan moved to the table where the Horta lay.  Deanna
relinquished her seat and stood next to the Doctor.  Selar stood
silent for a moment, her hands pressed together in meditation.
Then, slowly, she reached out to the Horta, pressing her fingers
into the hard flesh of the creature.  "Your mind to my mind," she
whispered, "your thoughts to my thoughts..."  Her voice trailed
off.

                 --*    ---*   darkness....  ---*

Selar's consciousness moved through the Horta's mind.  She
marveled at the organization of the creature's neural pathways,
much like the tunnels they dug.  But these tunnels were empty,
abandoned.  She moved deeper into the Horta's mind, looking for
some indication of the intelligence that had once been there.
Then, a blink in the dark.  An echo.  She moved toward the
source.  A pinpoint of light.  A door.  Selar opened the door....

didyouseethatlookovertherewaitgettheBrynn.............

A brief thought.  The side of a tunnel.  She could see a seam of
Dyilite glistening in the darkness.

thedoorthedoorthedoorgettheBrynn.......

Selar probed deeper into the Horta.  These were impressions and
thoughts from the mine, before the explosion?  She was not sure.
She turned a corner in the Horta's mind....

-------------************************---------------

White hot pain seared through Selar.

RUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  The Horta
was screaming at her, at herself (it is a she! Selar realized),
at her companions.....................Pain enveloped Selar, pain
from the burning of the Dyilite around her.  Her mind, shocked,
slid out of the Horta into unconsciouness.

Deanna caught the Vulcan as she slumped to the floor.  "Beverly!"
she said, frightened.

Crusher was already on the floor next to the other doctor,
running a diagnostic tool over the Vulcan.  "She's gone into
shock.  Help me get her on the table."

Picard backed up as Dr. Crusher took control of the situation.
She pressed a hypospray into the Vulcan's neck, anxiously
surveying the medical readouts above her patient's head.
"Damnit, Selar, don't you go out on me." she muttered, grabbing
another hypo from the lieutenant who had come to assist.  Crusher
administered the second hypo and focused on the medical readouts
again.  There was silence in the sickbay.

"Well, Doctor?" said Picard.

"She is, for all intents and purposes, in a coma." said Crusher,
her eyes never leaving the screen.  "However, I don't know if
that's good or bad.  Vulcans occasionally go into a meditative
state resembling a coma after a mental strain.  I can't tell if
she's in a meditative coma or a real coma.  I can tell you one
thing," she continued, "if it's meditation, she'll come out of it
in about two hours."

"And if it's not?" said Picard, voicing the other half of the
statement.

"We'll just have to wait and see."

[tweedle] "Data to Captain Picard."

He touched his communicator.  "Picard here."

"Captain, Commander LaForge and I believe we may have some
indication as to the cause of the mine fire on Zeta IV." came
Data's voice over the intercom.

"Excellent.  Picard to Commander Riker."

"This is Riker, go ahead."  The Commander sounded slightly
annoyed.

"Commander, will you join me in my ready room?  Mr. Data believes
he may have found a possible explanation for the Dyilite
explosion."

"I'm on my way." came the reply.

Picard turned back to Crusher.  "Doctor, please keep me informed
as to the condition of your patients.  Both of them.  Counselor,
I would appreciate it if you could stay here.  You may be the
first to know if either one of them approaches consciousness."
He walked over to the chief medical officer.  "She knew what she
was doing, Beverly." he said, trying to comfort the Doctor.

Beverly smiled grimly in reply.  Yes, but I still feel
responsible, she said to herself, as she watched Picard leave the
sickbay.

--------------
Riker walked over to his dresser and opened the first drawer.  "I
thought you might be interested in this, being a student of
history."  He lifted a small wooden box out of the drawer.  "This
belonged to my mother.  It's one of the only things I have from
her side of the family."  Will cradled the box in his hands,
stroking the lid.

Ayla moved next to him and gently took the box from his grasp.
Running her fingers along the side, she carefully opened th lid.
Inside was a round shape wrapped in blue cloth which she lifted
out.  As she unwrapped the cloth a smile appeared on her face.
"Oh, how beautiful," she whispered, "a glass snowdome.  I'm
amazed it's survived in such fine shape."  She flicked over the
globe, sending the sparkling crystals inside swirling.  "Not the
multiple colors in the 'snow', and the woodland scene," she said,
holding the globe up to the light, "that, and the hallmark on the
base suggest that this was produced on Earth by the Boyd glass
company in, I'd say, the early twentieth century."  Ayla lowered
the globe and look at Riker.  "A handsome specimen." she said.

Will looked down at her.  "You certainly know your antiques," he
said softly.

She set the globe down on the dresser.  "I know many things," she
answered, pulling his lips toward her own.

Riker returned the embrace.  After a minute he pulled slightly
away.  "Ayla," he said, brushing his mouth against her ear,
"would you like..."

"Yes, Will, very much," she answered, kissing him again.

[tweedle] "Picard to Commander Riker," came the captain's voice
over the intercom.

Damn, not now, Will thought to himself.  "This is Riker, go
ahead," he answered.

"Commander, will you join me in my ready room?  Mr. Data believes
he may have found a possible explanation for the Dyilite
explosion."

He sighed.  "I'm on my way."  Smiling at Ayla, Riker said "I
think he does that on purpose."

She returned his smile.  "Of course.  It's the captain's job to
keep the crew off its back on on their toes."

Will chuckled and hugged her.  "I'd love to continue this later.
Where can I find you?"

"I'll probably be in my quarters."

"I'll stop by.  Duty calls."  He planted a brief kiss on her
forehead and left the room.
--------------

[Picard's Ready Room.  Data, Geordi and Picard are seated.  Riker
enters.]

"Ah, Number One.  Sit down." said Picard.  "Continue, Mr. Data."

"The expansion of the Dyilite has increased.  Apparently, there
is more of the element on the planet than was previously thought.
Our window until planetary crust collapse has narrowed to twenty-
two minutes, eighteen seconds."
"And the cause of the original explosion?"

"That's the strange thing.  Dyilite is completely stable in its
crystalline form unless it comes into contact with carbon
dioxide.  For that reason, it's not found on class M planets.
However, when we scanned the area around the colony, we found
traces of Ultrecium and CO2." said Geordi.

"Ultrecium?  The Romulans use that in explosive devices." said
Riker, sitting up.

"Are you suggesting that the Dyilite could have been set off
deliberately?" said Picard, his face serious.

"All that's required is a small container designed to release CO2
at the appropriate moment.  The evidence would be destroyed in
the resulting explosion, along with whoever was unlucky enough to
discover the device." answered Geordi.

"The Hortas must have found something." said Riker.  "They called
for the telepath translator."

"Who was killed in the blast.  Destroy the evidence, then take
out the only means of communicating with the Hortas." said
Picard.

"But why?  If the Romulans wanted the Dyilite, why would they
choose a method that might destroy the very thing they were
looking for?" said LaForge.

"Perhaps," said Picard, "there is something more to this planet
than meets the eye."

"Captain," came Worf's voice over the intercom, "large rifts have
appeared on the planet's surface along the Dyilite seam strata.
We are reading tremors of 8.6."

"On my way," replied Picard.  "First things first, gentlemen.
Let's stabilize that planet."

The four officers walked onto the bridge, taking their usual
stations.  "Mr. Worf, are phasers ready?" asked Picard.

"Phasers ready and standing by," answered the Klingon.  Though
not in battle, Worf still got a certain pleasure from firing the
weapons of the great ship.

"Mr. LaForge?"

"Weapons targetted on the fire front, Captain." replied the chief
engineer.  "It's going to be close."

"Fire phasers."

Worf pressed the control panel, relishing the hum of the weapons
through the ship.  "Phasers fired, Sir."

The light beams sliced through the planet's surface, sending
debris into the thin atmosphere.  The area directly around the
phaser drilling caved in, forming a large crater.

"Captain, the crust is collapsing directly around the phasers."
said LaForge tensely, watching the display at his station.

"How long until lattice fusion?" said Picard.

"Ten seconds." answered Data.

 "Captain," said Geordi, "we've got a crater approximately 300
meters across on the surface."

"Steady, LaForge."

"Dyilite lattice has fused.  There is no combustion in front of
the phaser wall."  Data said, looking up from his station at the
planet's image on the screen.

"Cease fire!"

Worf turned off the phasers.  "Phasers have ceased firing.
Tremors on the surface are beginning to reduce."

"Excellent.  Mr. LaForge, what is the condition of the planet?"

The engineer looked at his station sadly.  "Captain, the
expansion of the fire has been stopped.  However, the crater
caused by the phasers collapsed the crust in the area around the
colony."  He turned to face Picard.  "Whatever evidence was down
there is buried under meters of rock."

Riker looked at the Captain.  "You did save the planet."

"Yes, Number One.  But now we may never know what caused it to be
in danger in the first place." mused Picard.
[end part 3]
-------------
Ayla paced the floor of her quarters.  This isn't possible, she
fumed silently, he's no different from anyone else.  She paused,
catching her reflection in the mirror.  It showed a healthy woman
in her early thirties, but to Ayla, the image was not comforting.

Cyveraeth, when will you call for me? she thought.  The door
chime brought her out of her reverie.  "Come in," she said.

The figure of Guinan stood silhouetted in the doorway.

Ayla turned and slowly walked toward the hostess.  Guinan stood
motionless, her dark eyes never leaving the miner's face.  "I am
pleased to see you again, Guinan."

"As am I," answered Guinan.  "May I come in?"

The miner nodded and motioned her inside.  Guinan entered and
moved to one of the room's windows.  "I thought you died on
Rigil."

"Officially, I did."

"Who are you these days?"

"I am as you see me now, Ayla Mackie, Engineer and Archeologist."
Ayla said, coming toward the hostess.

Guinan turned back toward the window.  "And does Commander Riker
know this?"

"He does not."

There was silence between the two women as they gazed out onto
the starfield.

"These people are my friends.  I care for them." said Guinan
finally.  "This is not Rigil."  She paused, glancing at Ayla.
"Is it?"

Ayla continued to regard the stars.  "No," she said softly, "it
is not."

Guinan placed her hand on Ayla's shoulder.  A small smile crept
onto her lips as she crossed the floor.  Only the mechanical
swish of the doors marked her exit.

Ayla waited a few more minutes.  Then she walked over to her bed.

Reaching underneath, she pulled out a long, cylindrical bag.  She
laid the bag across her knees, considering whether or not she
should open it.  With a slight shake of her head, she stood up
and walked to the display terminal in her room, throwing the bag
over her right shoulder.  "Computer," Ayla said, "display
technical schematics for _Enterprise_, specifically, tactical,
intruder defense, and emergency evacuation systems."  The
computer beeped in acknowledgement.  She studied the output, shut
off the display, and walked to the door.  Looking both
directions, she slipped down the corridor.
-------------
Riker stood outside Ayla's quarters and pressed the door chime.
No response.  Riker rang the chime again, rocking slightly
forward onto the balls of his feet.  Puzzled, he stepped into the
electromagnetic sensor that controlled the door.  "Ayla?" he
said, peering into the darkened room.  Will walked in and hit the
light control.  "Ayla, are you in here?" he asked, taking a quick
tour around the room.  Must have gone to 10-Forward, he said to
himself as he walked back out into the corridor.  On the way to
the lounge he passed Geordi LaForge standing in front of holodeck
3.  The engineer was attempting to adjust a holster belt around
his hips.

"Costume party?" asked Riker, pausing.

"Uh, no, not exactly," replied LaForge, adjusting his belt buckle
one notch tighter.  "Data's been studying the 'wild west' period
of Earth's United States.  He asked me to join him, so I thought
I should dress appropriately.  Though I can't imagine how they
managed to colonize a country wearing this kind of a get-up." he
muttered.  "Would you care to join us?" he asked, opening the
holodeck doors.

"Well, actually, I was just on my way to..."  Will looked into
the holodeck, his voice trailing off.  "Wow, Data, you really do
go for detail! he thought.  The holodeck had been transformed
into a smoky saloon.  Rough frontier types stood at the bar,
throwing back drinks in unwashed glasses.  The plank floor was
covered with dirt, spit, and more than a few spent gun
cartridges.  Data sat at one of the three unbroken tables,
shuffling a deck of cards.  A balding piano player was struggling
through what sounded like a cross between a Brahms waltz and 'The
Girl in the Red Velvet Swing'.  "On second thought," he said to
LaForge, "perhaps I will stop in for a drink."

They made their way over to Data's table.  "Ah, Geordi, Commander
Riker, how nice to see you." said the android, looking up from
the cards.

"Shaddup an' deal!" growled one of the other occupants of the
table.  Data had obviously set up a card game with a few of the
unsavories in the bar.

LaForge and Riker pulled up some chairs.  Riker's chair creaked
dangerously under him as he sat down.  "Who's your decorator?" he
asked Data.

Data did not have emotions, but he had mastered the art of
looking confused.  "To my knowledge, the holodeck is self-
sufficient in that regard.  All decor is programmed by the
computer to match the specifications of the user."

Riker opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it.
"Never mind, Data." he answered, running a hand through his dark
hair.

"Are ya gonna deal or talk?" asked the same player.

"Would you like to play?" he asked the two officers.

"Count me in!" said LaForge.  A stack of chips was generated for
him by the computer.
"Sure, why not." added Riker.  He gave the other players a
hardened poker face.

Data shuffled the cards one last time and placed them in front of
Geordi.  The engineer cut the cards.  "The game, gentlemen, is
five card draw.  One-eyed jacks are wild.  Ante up!"  He dealt
the cards with amazing speed and accuracy as the players' chips
clinked on the table.

"You better not be cheatin', you hear?" said the other cowpoke at
the table.  "Arveid an' I don't take lightly to cheatin'."

"I assure you, the cards are sufficiently randomized." replied
Data, picking up his hand.

Riker winced.  Data had said that very thing when the
_Enterprise_ had been caught in a time loop for seventeen days.

"Sorry Sir." Data apologized.

Riker waved him off and concentrated on his hand.

"What'll you boys have?" said a female voice from behind his
chair.

"Gimme a whiskey," said the player who had been identified as
Arveid.

"Yeah, make it two." added LaForge.  "What the hell, it's a
saloon, right?" he said when Riker looked at him in surprise.

"Well, I'll have a..."  Riker's jaw dropped open when he turned
to give the barmaid his order.  It was the same angular face, the
same shoulder-length auburn hair.  The voice was slightly higher
and the eyes dark brown instead of green, but he was looking at
the image of Ayla Mackie.  He turned back to the android.  "Data,
it is considered a breach of protocall to recreate ship personnel
or guests on the holodeck."

Data looked up quizzically.  "Sir?"

"Computer, freeze program!" said Riker.  He got up from his chair
and moved over to the woman's image.  "This," he said pointing to
the hologram, "is one of the miners we rescued from Zeta IV."

Data put his cards down.  "Commander, I did not intentionally
create this image.  I merely programmed the computer to deliver
an authentic western scene from Earth.  It would not help my
studies to 'stack the deck', as it were, with current
personalities."

"This is someone you know?" asked Geordi.

"Yes." replied Will.  "It's not exactly her, but it's pretty damn
close."

"Wow," said Geordi, "the odds against this sort of thing
happening must be enormous!"

"There are a finite number of human facial combinations,
Geordi." said Data. "Your species does believe that there is
an exact double for each one of you.  Given this finite set of
variables, it is theoretically possible for the holodeck to
create a random composite of physical features that match those
of an actual living person. However,the odds against such a
creation resembling a person on this particular ship at this
particular point in time are..."

"Thank you Data." Will continued to regard the image.

"What if it's not random?" said Geordi.

"Explain." said Riker.

"I mean, the holodeck creates images that match the requested
specifications.  But the computer draws the images from known
parameters.  In an historic scene like Data's, those known
paramenters might include records from that period, in addition
to the computer's own projections." offered Geordi.

"Such as?"

"Such as written texts of the time, or...photographs!" Geordi
said, snapping his fingers.

"So you're saying this image could have been either randomly
generated by the computer or pulled directly from a photograph
taken over six hundred years ago?" asked Riker, looking somewhat
skeptical.

"There's one way to find out.  Computer, isolate image directly
in front of Commander Riker." LaForge said to the computer.

[The rest of the holographic scene disappears]

"Compare image with parameters of program.  What is the origin of
this image?"

[tweedle] "The image was created from photographic records."

"Display records."

[A large projection of a black and white photograph appeared in
the holodeck. The photo was grainy, but showed three men standing
in front of a store.  The name I. WRIGLEYS DRY GOODS is painted
in large letters above the store front.  It is clearly a scene
from the old American west.]

"It don't see how the computer could have pulled the image from
this photo.  The main subjects are three men." said Riker,
folding his arms.

Data stepped closer to the projection.  "Computer, magnify
section B-4."

[Behind the three men, two figures can be seen in the store's
window.]

"Magnify." Data repeated.

[The image becomes larger.  It is too grainy to see clearly, but
one of the figures is a woman.]

"Computer, enhance section B-4."

[The computer fills in the grainy photo.  The image becomes
clearer.  It is the face of the woman in the holodeck.]

The three officers were silent.

"Computer, what is the date of this photograph?" said Riker
finally.  He was beginning to get the creeps.

"The photograph dates from between 1840 and 1870, old
Earth time."

"Location and photographer?"

"The photograph was taken at Mormon's Crossroads, in the Nevada
Territory.  The photographer is unknown."

"Can you identify the woman in the photograph?"

"Negative."

"Computer," said Data, "access all visual records.  Does this
image correspond with any others in memory?"

The computer chirped as it accessed its vast storage banks.
Riker realized he was pacing.

"There is one additional match for this image."

"Display, please." said Data.

The computer created a second projection next to the first.  It
was a market square.  To one side was a cafe, to the other what
appeared to be an office building.  Geordi stepped up to the
projection.  "There, Commander, in the cafe." he said, pointing
to one of the tables.

"Enhance that area," said Riker to the computer.
The computer enlarged the area around Geordi's finger.  They all
gasped.

"That's Guinan!" exclaimed Geordi.

"And it appears that she is sitting with a woman that resembles
the image in the holodeck very closely." commented Data.

"Location of this projection?" asked Riker.

"Rigil 2, stardate 11763.3."

Data looked at the Commander.  "Sir, that is three days before
Rigil 2 was destroyed by an antimatter containment accident."

"Destroyed?  The entire planet?" asked Geordi, incredulous.

"Yes. Rigil 2 was a scientific station.  Apparently there was an
uncontrolled antimatter reaction in one of the warp test
laboratories.  The resulting explosion blew away the planet's
atmosphere and two-thirds of its mass."

"What do you mean, 'apparently'?" asked Riker.

"From accounts of the survivors and surveys conducted after the
incident, it was concluded that the antimatter containment field
on one of the warp test coils had failed.  However, the direct
cause of the explosion was never ascertained." said Data.

"Sound familiar?" said Geordi.

"Yeah." answered Riker.  "Too much of a coincidence.  Computer,
locate Guinan."

"Guinan is in 10-Forward."

"I'm going to see just how much of a coincidence this is.  Exit!"
he said, striding out of the holodeck.
--------------------------------
[end part 4]
--------------------------------

---------------------

Will walked straight over to the bar in 10-Forward.  "Guinan, I
need to speak with you." he said.

"Of course, Commander." Guinan answered.  She whispered something
to her assistant before following Riker to a vacant table.  "You
want to know about Ayla Mackie?" she asked settling into a chair.

"Yes, how did you know?" answered Riker, surprised.

"Oh, I figured the question would come sooner or later." said
Guinan, enigmatic as usual.  "What would you like to know?"

"Is she the same woman you knew on Rigil 2?"

"Yes.  I wasn't sure at first, but now I am."  Kudos on your
sleuthing skills Will, Guinan said to herself.

"How well do you know her?"

Guinan pursed her lips.  "I knew her on Rigil.  People can be
different at different places.  I can't say that I know her now."

"Who is she?  Do you know where she's from?" persisted Riker.

Guinan folded her hand in her lap.  "She told me she was from
Earth, and I had no reason to question her.  As far as I know,
she's a human like yourself.  Though there always seemed to be a
cloud following her, like a personal sense of impending doom she
carried around."

"Guinan, Rigil 2 exploded more than a hundred years ago.  If
she's the same person you knew, there's no way she could be
human."  Riker rubbed his beard.  "Could she had been physically
altered to pass for human?"

"Like I said," repeated the hostess, "as far as I know."

"In your estimation, did she possess the opportunity or the
skills necessary to cause the Rigil 2 explosion?"

Guinan regarded the commander carefully.  "She was employed as a
technician at the station.  She was one of the few who were not
transferred."

"Transferred?  What do you mean?" asked Riker.

"Most of the people on Rigil had been transferred to other posts
or were on leave.  At the time of the accident, the station was
nearly deserted."

"Except for Ayla." finished Riker.

Guinan nodded.

Riker hit his communicator pin.  "Riker to security."

"Worf here."

"Worf, I'd like you to form a security team.  Locate and detain
one of the miners, Ayla Mackie.  Contact me when you find her."

"Acknowledged." came the reply.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Guinan.
Riker stood up.  "If it's at all possible that she's connected to
these two incidents, I can't have her running around this ship."
He stepped around the table and walked to the door.

Why did you let him go? said a voice in Guinan's mind.

Perhaps it is time for her to reveal herself.  It is a large
burden to carry.  I have faith that they will understand, Guinan
answered.

--------------------------
[sickbay]

"Subspace message coming in for you from Starbase Barton, Dr.
Crusher." said Ensign Runninghorse.

"Thank you.  I'll take it in my office." replied the doctor.  She
sat down at the terminal on her desk and pressed the RECEIVE pad.

The blue and white Starfleet logo was replaced with a worded
screen.  Ah, finally, the medical records from Zeta IV, she
thought as she paged through the information.  Suddenly, she
frowned.  Picking up her computer board, she pushed a few
numbers.  "Crusher to O'Brien," she said, touching her
communicator.

"O'Brien here," came the reply.

"Chief, how many miners did we beam up from Zeta IV?"

There was a slight pause.  "Twenty-one alive, three dead.
Twenty-four in all."

"Thank you, Chief."  And with one body unrecoverable on the
planet, that makes twenty-five, she computed mentally.  "Crusher
to Captain Picard."

"Picard here."

"Captain, I've just received the records of the colony from
Starbase Barton.  There were twenty-four miners officially
stationed on Zeta IV."

"Yes?"

"We've accounted for twenty-five."

"Twenty-five?  Are you sure?"

"Yes.  It seems that someone on Zeta IV was not supposed to be
there." continued Crusher.

"Can you tell me who this extra person is, Doctor?"

"I'm cross-checking the colony's records with our medical
treatment records now," she said, moving her fingers back and
forth on the keypad.  "The colony has no records concerning a
woman named Ayla Mackie."

There was a slight pause.  "Did you find anything unusual when
you treated her?"

"Yes, actually.  She had second-degree radiation burns, which
weren't serious, but her tissues showed traces of fluoride.
That's very unusual, unless you've been living on an isolated
outpost somewhere."

"Anything to indicate whether or not she is as she appears to
be?" Picard said.

"The bioscans showed nothing abnormal, but I'd have to do a DNA
analysis to be sure." she answered.  "From the preliminary
physical, she appears to be a human female."

----------------[switch to Picard's ready room]----

"Thank you Doctor." replied Picard.  He turned to look at Riker
across the snythesized wood table in his ready room.  "It seems,
Number One, that you may be on to something here.  Let me know
when you find this Ayla Mackie."

"Worf to Commander Riker."

"Go ahead," said Riker, touching his communicator.

"Sir, we have an unauthorized launch sequence for one of the
shuttles in shuttle bay three."

"Shut it down!" said Picard.

"I cannot.  Bridge controls have been overridden." came Worf's
frustrated reply.

"Can you reset the launch sequence long enough to get someone
down there?" Picard said, entering the bridge with Riker.

"I'm on my way." said Riker, sprinting for the turbolift.

Worf pressed a few buttons on his station.  "Yes.  The launch
sequence has been reset to two minutes."

"Launch delay has been overridden," said Data from his station at
the conn.

"Resetting." said Worf.

Picard looked expectantly at Data as the android watched the conn
display.  "Launch delay is holding at two minutes."
"Worf, go." said Picard, motioning for the Klingon to follow
Riker to the shuttle bay.

--------------------------------
Riker entered the shuttle bay warily, his small phaser drawn.
The shuttlecraft's engines hummed, waiting for the go-ahead to
leave the ship.  Crouching, he ran to the back door of the
shuttle where the hatch was located.  Pressing the hatch control,
he jumped inside the door as it opened.  "Freeze!" he yelled,
pointing his phaser at the empty command chair. Puzzled, he moved
up to the shuttle's controls and shut down the engines.  Getting
up to leave, he stopped short.  Ayla was standing in the open
back hatch, looking at him.

"I take it you've come to arrest me?" she said, regarding him
impassively.

He took a step toward her, keeping his phaser hidden in his hand.

"The Captain would like to have a word with you."

"I see."  She continued to watch his eyes.  "Why?"

"We think there may be some connection between the incident here
and the one on Rigil 2, and that you may be that connection."  He
took another step toward her.

"And what makes you think I've ever been to Rigil 2?" she
answered.

"We found a visual record of you and Guinan on Rigil 2, three
days before the science station on that planet was destroyed."

Ayla recognized the acusatory tone of his voice and chose to
ignore it. "Do you think the station on Rigil 2 was deliberately
destroyed?"

"Do you?"  Riker was standing within a meter of her now.

"Yes, I do."

"Did you do it?"

Mackie took a quick step backward out of the shuttle's doorway as
Riker drew his phaser.  "Let's go," he said, motioning to her
with the weapon.  Ayla did not move, but instead slowly dropped
the bag she had been carrying to the floor.  "Perhaps you didn't
hear me," Will said, stepping out of the shuttle and taking hold
of her arm, "the Captain would like to have a word with you."

Riker was not prepared for Ayla's reflexes, or her strength.  She
snapped her arm out of his grasp, knocking the phaser away.
Taking two handfuls of his shirt, she slammed his back against
the side of the shuttlecraft.  "Listen to me!" she hissed,
"Starfleet is not so inviolate as you would like to think.  There
are many enemies who prefer a lower profile than the Romulans!
Did it ever occur to you that I might be doing my best to look
out for you people?"

"Who are you?" Will asked in a whisper.

"Let him go!" came Worf's basso voice from the door of the
shuttle bay.  He had his phaser out and pointed at Ayla.

Ayla's hands gripped Riker's tunic reflexively in surprise, then
slowly released as she backed away from him.  Riker smoothed down
the wrinkles in the shirt. "Captain, we have located Ms. Mackie."
he said, pressing his communicator.

"Excellent, Number One.  Will you and Mr. Worf escort our guest
to my ready room?" came Picard's reply.

"Shall we go now?" said Riker to the woman.

Ayla picked up her bag and walked toward the door, placing the
strap in Worf's outstretched hand.  The Klingon glowered at her
as she passed him.  She returned his gaze without flinching and
stepped into the corridor.  The trio walked on to the turbolift
in silence.

"Bridge!" said Riker, staring at a spot just above the turbolift
archway.

After a few minutes, the turbolift doors opened.  Escorting Ayla
between them, the two officers went to the Captain's ready room
on the left side of the bridge.

"Come!" said Picard, as the door chime sounded.  "Ah, Ms. Mackie.

Do sit down." he said, pointing to the chair on the other side of
his desk.  "Perhaps now we can get some answers."

The miner sat down gracefully and regarded the captain.  Riker
joined Counselor Troi on the couch.  Worf remained standing
behind Mackie and began to search through the bag she had given
him.

"Now, would you care to tell me what's been going on?" said
Picard in a soft, authoritative voice.

----------------------------------------
"Selar, you must concentrate.  Logic can find no place in an
undisciplined mind."

Selar looked up into the face of her instructor patel and then
back at the equations on her computer learning board.  At four
years of age, the emotional control that characterized all
Vulcans was tenuous, and she could feed frustration welling up
inside herself, like a cascade of hatching Pika moths.
"Is it logical to continue to work at a problem with no
solution?" she said, struggling to keep control of her voice.

A shadow that could have been a smile passed over Patel's face.
"If the problem were indeed without solution.  However, many
solutions that are otherwise elusive may be achieved through
persistence."  The instructor moved on to another student.

Selar stared at the equations again, turning them over in her
mind.  Start with the summation operator, she thought.  Suddenly,
the solution struck her.  She entered the appropriate numbers and
the board beeped in acknowledgement.

Selar opened her eyes.  The neutral shade of the sickbay ceiling
greeted her vision, lights dimmed for the night shift.  Rolling
her head to one side, she could see the Horta with whom she had
attempted to mind-meld.  Rising from her bed, she walked over to
the Horta and seated herself on the chair that had been left by
Deanna.

Many solutions may be achieved through persistence, she repeated
mentally as she pressed her fingers against the silent Horta.
---------------------------------
[end part 5]
---------------------------------
=================================================================
Characters in Star Trek and Star Trek: The Next Generation are
copyrighted by Paramount Pictures, Inc.
Text and story, _The Witness_ by Kathryn J. Aikin, copyright
1992.

Path: moe.ksu.ksu.edu!zaphod.mps.ohio-state.edu!uwm.edu!psuvax1!psuvm!kja102
Organization: Penn State University
Date: Tue, 7 Jul 1992 11:26:48 EDT
From: <[email-masked]>
Message-ID: <[email-masked]>
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: Repost: The Witness, Parts 6-10
Lines: 1067

As always, comments, criticisms, kudos and flames to [email-masked]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
                      ---- The Witness ----
                     ----- Parts 6-10 -----

By Kathryn J. Aikin
copyright 1992

================
---------------------------------
"Well?" asked Picard, picking up one of the objects Worf had
removed from Ayla's bag.

"Be careful, Captain," she said, "that's sharp."

Picard slid the meter-long blade out of its sheath and studied
its intricate markings.  "Why are you carrying a weapon, Ms.
Mackie?"

"Nostalgia." she answered, lacing her fingers together.

He frowned and continued to study the sword.  "Why were you
attempting to steal a shuttlecraft?"

"I wanted to do a little sightseeing."

"I sincerely doubt that."  Picard fixed her with his best
Captain's stare.  "We have received the colony's records from
Starbase Barton." he continued.  "There is no record of you
having joined the colony.  It seems we can also place you on
Rigil 2.  Just how did you manage to be in both places just
before they were destroyed in 'accidents'?"

"Bad timing." she quipped.

The captain tossed the weapon down on his desk.  "Enough of this!

I want to know who you are and why you were on Zeta IV."
Ayla set her mouth in a stubborn line and sat unmoving.

"The Captain asked you a question." growled Worf from behind
Ayla's chair.  "Perhaps your hearing is faulty."

Picard raised his hand to quiet the Klingon.  "We only want to
get to the bottom of this, Ms. Mackie.  Your refusal to cooperate
could be interpreted as an admission of guilt or at the very
least, complicity."

"Why is this important to you?" asked Ayla.  "What will you do
with the knowledge?"

Jean-Luc was slightly taken aback by the question.  "What do you
mean?"

"I mean," she said, "what will it gain you?  Will it change
anything that has happened?  Will it bring anyone back?  Death is
the completion of the circle, Captain, the mate of life."

"That's true, but not when death is premature or deliberately
caused."

"Agreed.  I believe we want the same thing, Captain."

"And what is that?" he asked.

"To preserve life."

"How does the death of four colonists preserve life?"

"It was an unfortunate accident." she replied.

Troi kept her face impassive.  What are you afraid of? she asked
herself.

"Did you have something to do with this accident or the one on
Rigil?"

"Would an admission of guilt make you happy?"

"The truth would make me happy." he countered.

Ayla did not reply.

Jean-Luc sighed.  "Right.  Mr. Worf, will you and Commander Riker
escort Ms. Mackie to sickbay?  I believe Dr. Crusher is waiting
to give our guest an examination."

Ayla's eyes narrowed slightly at the word, but she did not resist
as Worf motioned for her to precede him and Riker out of the
ready room.

Deanna looked at Riker as he stood up.  His face betrayed no
emotion, but she could feel his conflict.  As the trio left the
room, she turned to Picard.  "Captain, I sense...great deception
here."

"If you mean that you think she's hiding something Counselor, I
can see for myself that..."

"Not exactly." interrupted Troi.  "It's deeper than that.  I
realize now that I couldn't get a clear sense of it before
because she was blocking me."

"Blocking you?" asked Picard quizzically. "How?  Telepathically?"

"It is sometimes possible to prevent telepathic or empathic
scanning by focusing one's mind on a particularly strong emotion,
such as fear, or hate.  On Betazed, the technique is called
Nasht.  However, when you started questioning her, her
concentration shifted toward you." said Troi.

"Were you able to discern the nature of this deception?" he
asked.

Deanna sat still for a moment, considering how to put what she
had felt into words.  "It's almost as though she's built her
entire personality around a falsehood.  She's like a house of
cards, Captain.  Pull out the center, the base, and the whole
house will come crashing down."

Picard stood up and yanked down his shirt.  "Will you accompany
me to sickbay, Counselor?  Perhaps we can find that lynchpin
without actually having to pull it."
------------------------
---*            ----*
Selar moved through the smooth pathways of the Horta's mind.  She
was determined to go deeper into the being's consciousness, and
deeply she was going.  The Horta had pulled herself up tight
inside and her mind was farther away than before.  Selar could
feel the memories she sought ahead of her and began to experience
trepidation.   Fear is an emotion, she said to herself, emotions
cannot exist within logic.  I am logical, therefore, I cannot
fear.  Nevertheless, she found herself slowing as she approached
the point where she had touched the Horta's mind last.  The
corner, as before, and mentally braced herself...

Selar felt the mind-touch of another being within the Horta's
mind.  As the floodgates of the Horta's memories opened, she was
protected from the onslaught of the Horta's pain, anguish and
sorrow.  Selar reached out to the Horta, searching for the
shining brightness of the consciousness that made the Horta an
intelligent being.  And it was there, finally.  And we are one.

Selar opened her eyes to see Guinan standing beside her.  The two
other Hortas were also in the room.  Selar's eyes surveyed the
sickbay silently, coming again to rest on Guinan.  "We thank you,
my sister." said the Vulcan, resting her hand on the hostess'
shoulder.

"You must speak with Picard." said Guinan.

"Yes." agreed Selar.  "There is much to atone for."

"Selar?" asked Dr. Crusher, uncertainly.  "Are you alright?
Guinan?  What's going on?"  She began running a tricorder over
the Vulcan without waiting for an answer.

"We must speak with Picard." said Selar.

"We?" asked Crusher, looking up.

"The mind-meld was successful, Doctor.  I have reached the
Horta." she said.

"Crusher to Picard." said the doctor, touching her communicator.

"Yes Doctor?" came the reply.

"Captain, Dr. Selar has successfully contacted the injured Horta
and wishes to speak with you."

"I was just on my way now," said the Captain. "I've sent Ayla
Mackie down to sickbay.  I'd like you to do a complete physical
on her.  See what you can find out."

"Yes sir." said Crusher.
-------------------------------
[end part 6]
-------------------------------
Crusher turned her head as the door to the sickbay slid back.
Riker, Mackie and Worf entered and paused as the door slid closed
behind them.  Ayla's face had settled into a mask of calm
resignation, which was disturbed only slightly by Guinan's
presence.

"Please, come in." said Beverly.  "Would you sit over here?" she
said, pointing to the central medi-bed.  "Thank you, Worf, but I
don't need a chaperone." said the doctor, stepping in front of
Worf as he moved to follow the woman.

"But Doctor, the Captain..." he began.

"The Captain undoubtedly ordered you to bring her to sickbay,
which is what you have done.  Now if you don't mind, I would like
to get on with my work.  I will call you if I need help."

The Klingon grumbled.  He knew it was hopeless to try to argue
with the woman.  "I will wait over here."

"Thank you." She looked at Riker expectantly until he joined Worf
on the other side of the room.

Crusher walked over to Ayla.  "Please sit here," she said,
turning on the overhead medical sensor array.  "I'm going to give
you a physical and take some small tissue samples from you for
analysis.  It isn't painful, so don't worry."  Beverly smiled,
but it faded as she realized the woman was not looking at her,
but at Guinan, who had come to stand beside her.

Beverly watched the tricorder as she ran diagnostic tests on
Ayla.  There it is again.  What the hell is going on? she
thought.  "All right, I've done the preliminaries," she said.
"I'm going to run the DNA tests now."  She took Ayla's hand and
pressed a small device against the fourth finger.  "This is for
the tissue sample," she explained, releasing Ayla's hand.  "I'll
be back in a moment."

At that moment, Picard and Troi walked into the sickbay.  Guinan
turned to face them as they came over to the pair.

"Guinan, what are you doing here?" Picard asked.

"I was visiting an old friend." she replied.

"Old friend?" he repeated.  "Then perhaps you can shed some light
on this whole thing?"

"Captain, I would speak with you."

He turned to see Dr. Selar standing in the doorway. "Dr. Selar?"
asked Picard, uncertainly.

"She is here.  We are also Ch!narr, Elder Mother of the Pod.  We
come to offer testimony and atonement for the destruction."  Dr.
Selar walked up to where Ayla Mackie was sitting.  She placed her
hand on Ayla's shoulder and looked back at the Captain.  "We know
the suffering of our ageless sister.  The Pod Mother must also
see the death of her bretheren every sixty-thousand years.  We
know her loneliness, for we have shared it."

"Ageless sister?" said Picard.

Ayla sighed.  "Captain, I am Eithear Tucharba, an Earth Steward.
I have been sworn to protect Terra."

Picard raised his eyebrows in surprise and waited for her to
continue.

"Captain, what I am about to tell you is...well, fantastic.  I do
not expect you to believe me, although I've been told that you
are a remarkably understanding man."  She shot a glance at
Guinan, who nodded.  "I began my training three hundred years
before Cassivellannus capitulated with Caesar.  My duty is to
watch over the Earth, and those on it.  I have followed humanity
out to the stars, to play witness to its survival.  "

Picard's eyes widened slightly as he did the mental arithmatic.
"Do you mean to say that you're three thousand years old?  I find
that difficult to believe."

"How very reassuring," she murmured.

"It's entirely possible, Captain." said Crusher.

"Explain." he said, turning to her.

"When I did the medical scan, she showed traces of fluoride and
chlorine in her tissues.  Neither compound has been used on Earth
since the late 22nd century.  Now it's very possible that she
could have these things stored in her tissues if she'd been on an
Earth colony, perhaps one of the more remote ones.  However,
given Commander Riker's concerns that she might have been
genetically altered to appear human, I did a genome analysis.
She's human, with one important difference.  This woman lacks the
gene related to aging."  A tinge of wonderment came into the
doctor's voice.  "Once her body reached maturity, it ceased to
age.  She could be thirty or thirty-thousand years old."

"You wouldn't believe what you people used to put in your water,"
said Ayla.

"This still doesn't explain what you were doing on Zeta IV." said
Picard, regaining his composure.

"As I said, I am sworn to protect the Earth.  However, that is
also the duty of your Starfleet.  Therefore, it is now my purpose
to protect Starfleet."

"You said that before," broke in Riker.  "Protect us?  From
what?"

Mackie smiled.  "From invasion or conspiracy, from yourselves if
necessary.  To assess the strength of internal and external
threats.  This is why I was on Zeta IV.  I believe the Ferengi
are involved in a dyilite smuggling ring.  About a week ago, the
colony was offered a large monetary incentive to 'lose' a dyilite
shipment."

"The Bashk-Na." said Riker.

"They sent a small cruiser to pick up the shipment two days ago.
Their Damon was very displeased that we had refused to give them
what they desired."

"A small quantity of unprotected dyilite, beamed on board, or
into a planet's atmosphere..." started Picard.

"Would have devastating consequences." she finished.
"Then it was the Ferengi who were the cause of the explosion."
said Worf, matter-of-factly.

"No, alas, though we wish it, so great is our sorrow." said
Selar, folding her hands together.  "There was a great
civilization on Zeta IV.  Its people were numerous and its
buildings many.  Some of these buildings survive yet under the
surface of the planet.  We knew the interest of the archeological
team in the remains, so when T!yyn and T!uun found an undisturbed
chamber, they called for Brynn Kale to come.  He did.  But when
he opened the door to the chamber, atmosphere trapped from the
surface was released.  The original inhabitants of this planet
breathed as you do.  The air that gave them life gave him death."

"The carbon dioxide in the air pocket must have ignited the
dyilite seam the Hortas were mining." said Picard.

"We are sorry for your loss, and for ours," said Selar/Ch!narr.

"I understand, my sister.  I rejoice to hear your thoughts at
last." said Ayla.

"Remember that you are not alone.  I will wait for you when the
Zn!k comes."  Selar clasped hands with the miner.

"Why didn't you come directly to Starfleet with the information
about the Ferengi?" asked Picard.

Ayla chuckled.  "Because their reaction would have been the same
as yours, Captain.  Doubt and suspicion.  Starfleet is not
prepared to believe in 'guardian angels'.  More important,
though," she said, her face sober, "is the possibility that
someone in Starfleet is involved in the smuggling.  Zeta IV is a
remote outpost, but it was not widely known that it was still
populated.  An automated station cannot be bribed.  Someone had
to have provided the Ferengi with that information.  Perhaps that
someone is in Starfleet.  I have been difficult to kill thus far,
but I have no wish to push my luck."

"And Rigil 2?  What were you doing there?" asked Picard.

"A beautiful place, Rigil." she said with a faraway look.  "I
failed there.  I misjudged the seriousness of the threat.  The
station was the target of an Orion, who believed that it was a
weapons arsenal.  I thought I would have more time to deal with
him, to disable the plan."  Her eyes moved to Guinan.  "I was
wrong, and I carry those souls."

Troi put a hand on Ayla's arm and smiled.

"Bridge to Captain." came a voice over the intercom.

"Picard here," he said, touching his communicator.

"Sir, you are receiving a subspace message from Admiral Godon."
"Thank you.  I'll take it in my ready room."  He looked at
Mackie, considering her story.  "If I let you go back to your
quarters, will you promise not to try to steal another
shuttlecraft?"

She grinned.  "Scout's honor."
------------------------------
[end part 7]
------------------------------

Picard seated himself in his ready-room chair and touched the
communciations panel on his desk.  The screen changed to show the
slender-boned face of a human male in admiral rank uniform.  What
had obviously been jet-black hair was now streaked with white,
but the oval eyes of the visage showed no sign of age.

"Yes Admiral, what can I do for you?" asked Picard.

"I believe we were scheduled for a rendevous, Captain.  What's
the delay?" said Godon.

"We detoured to answer a distress call from Zeta IV.  We should
be underway shortly."

"A distress call?  From Zeta IV?" the Admiral snorted derisively.
"What are those miners whining about now?"

Picard frowned.  "There was an explosion in one of the tunnels.
A dyilite seam was ignited by a trapped pocket of air."

"That's unfortunate." came the reply.  "Survivors?"

"Approximately twenty-three.  My full report will be
forthcoming."

"Of course, of course," Godon answered, waving his hand.  "What
is your E.T.A.?"

Picard sat back and touched his communicator.  "Mr. Mbuto, what
is our time to rendevous with the Newton at warp 2?"

"Five hours, nineteen minutes, Sir." came the quick reply from
the bridge.

"Fine.  I'll expect you." said the Admiral.  "Godon out."

The screen blanked to reveal the blue and white starfleet logo.
Picard gazed silently at it, considering.
-------------------------------------------

Beverly Crusher was hovering in front of the main medical sensor
array output from Ayla Mackie's bioscan.  "Incredible," she
muttered, pressing some numbers into her hand tricorder.  She
turned to Deanna and Ayla.  "All of your body's resources have
been adapted to regrowth and repair." she said to the miner.
"Your body has amazing recuperative powers.  You show no trace of
the burns you received on the planet.  Have you ever had any sort
of illness?"

"No." answered the woman.

Crusher shook her head.  "Incredible." she said again.  "What a
wonderful adaptation."

The corners of Ayla's mouth curled into a wry smile.  "Thank you,
Doctor.  However, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to my
quarters.  I am not accustomed to being a laboratory specimen."

"Well, I'd really like to do a few more tests, but I suppose they
can wait." Beverly answered.

Ayla slid off the examining table.  "Counselor, would you care to
accompany me?"

"Yes, I'd like that." Deanna replied, smiling.

The two women walked toward the door of the sickbay.  Worf, who
had been stading near the back wall of the room, moved to follow
them.

"It's alright, Worf," said Deanna, "I'll walk her down."

"Counselor," he said, "the Captain has not yet released me from
duty.  Until then, I am in charge of security.  I will accompany
you."

Ayla turned towards him.  "You do not approve of me." she said.

The tall security chief looked at her with disdain.  "Starfleet
does not require the services of a ... nursemaid."

Guinan hid a smile behind her right index finger.

Mackie moved closer to the Klingon and looked him in the eye.  He
smelled slightly musky, like sandalwood incense.  "Tell me
Warrior," she said, "what disturbs you?"

"I am not disturbed!" he said in an annoyed voice.

"Indeed.  And yet you do not believe the truth of my existence.
Or, rather, you resist it."

Deanna's eyebrows raised in surprise.  The woman was empathic!
she realized.  No wonder she was able to block my probing.

Worf set his jaw stubbornly.

"So long as you serve Starfleet, I am not your enemy, Warrior."
Ayla continued.

"We shall see." he rumbled.

The trio left the sickbay and started down the corridor.  Just
before the doors closed, Deanna paused to look back at Will
Riker.  Oh, dammnit, he thought and quickly began mentally
reviewing the duty roster for the next shift, anything to chase
away the thoughts in his head.  He saw a frown crease her smooth
forhead as the doors slid shut.

"She did not intend to deceive you." said Selar's voice from
behind him.

The voice broke his train of thought.  "What?" he said.

"She did not intend to deceive you.  Do not judge her harshly."

"Look, what I think is irrelevant here.  If you'll excuse me, I
have duties to attend to." He stalked out of the sickbay.

"What you think is not irrelevant to her." said Selar softly.
She became aware that Dr. Crusher was running a tricorder over
her.  "Yes?" she asked.

"Your blood pressure is rising rapidly, Selar.  How long can you
hold the link?  I need to know what additional treatment the
Horta requires." said Crusher.

Selar closed her eyes for a moment.  "We can hold, Doctor, but be
brief.  It must be dissolved soon."

Beverly nodded and moved over to the table where the Horta was
laying.  Selar followed.
-------------------------------------

Picard sat thoughtfully for a moment then hit his communicator.
"Mr. Data, would you join me in my ready room at your
convenience?" he said.

"Acknowledged." came the android's reply.  Sounds of a scuffle
and a gunshot came through the intercom.

"Mr. Data!  Are you alright?  What is going on?" said Picard in
an alarmed voice.

"I am fine, Sir. (a muffled "Caught the lousy varmit cheatin'!
could be heard)  I am running a program on the holodeck.  In
order to more fully understand the nuances of human interaction,
I am studying an Earth historical period known as 'The Wild
West'.  At this moment, one of my partners in a poker game has
attempted to pull a firearm on me, mistakenly believing that I
had stacked the deck of cards against him.  (sound of breaking
glass)  I have effectively disarmed him and I am endeavoring to
explain that the randomization of the cards is sufficient..."

"Thank you, Data.  I will expect you." interrupted Picard with a
sigh.

Five minutes later, the door chime on the ready room sounded.
"Come!" said Picard.

Data walked into the room and stood at attention.  "You wished to
see me, Sir?"

"Yes.  Sit down."  The android complied.  "Data, I have a
research job for you.  I need to know all the ports of call for
the Ferengi ship Bashk-Na in the last six months.  In addition,
and this is to remain confidential, chart the assignments of
Admiral Kazuo Godon over these same six months."

"Of course." said Data.

"Dismissed." said Picard, his eyes following the officer as he
left the room.  Please let me be wrong, he thought.
----------------------------------
[end part 8]
-------------------------------------
"Sir, we have reached the rendevous point with the Newton," said
Ensign Mbuto from ops.

"Admiral Godon and aide are standing by to beam on board." said
Worf.

"Excellent.  I'll meet them in transporter room three."  Picard
walked to the turbolift.

In transporter room three, the figures of Admiral Godon and his
aide materialized on the pad.  "Welcome to the Enterprise,
Admiral." said Jean-Luc as the pair stepped down.

"Greetings, Picard.  This is my personal aide, Lt. Commander
Desmond Vinar."

The ebony-skinned human inclined his head toward the Captain, who
nodded back.

"May I show you to your quarters?" asked Picard.

"Yes, that would be fine.  How soon until we reach starbase?"
asked the Admiral.

"We are thirty-one hours from Starbase 133."

"Fine." he answered, preceeding Picard out of the transporter
room and down the corridor.  After walking a short way in
silence, the Admiral said "Nice ship you have here, Picard.
Would you mind if we took a stroll around?"

"Of course, Admiral.  I'll arrange a guide."

"No, that won't be necessary," said Godon before Picard could hit
his communicator.  "Just an informal tour.  I mainly want to see
the bridge."

"By all means, Admiral.  At your convenience." answered Picard.
The hair on the back of his neck was standing up.  They stopped
before a door that slid back at his touch on the keypanel.  "I
hope these quarters will be satisfactory."

Godon peered inside.  "Oh yes, they'll do nicely.  Thank you
Captain.  I look forward to seeing your bridge."

Picard smiled tightly and turned to walk toward the turbolift.
He did not see Vinar's large dark eyes watch him until he
disappeared around a bend.  Once he entered the turbolift he hit
his communicator.  "Picard to Data."

"Data here."

"Data, how are you coming on your 'research'?"

"I am almost finished, Sir."

"Good.  I'll join you in your quarters."

"Yes Sir." answered the android.

A few minutes later Picard was surveying Data's terminal display.
"The Bashk-Na is a Ferengi freighter, register number FC-335.  It
has been commanded by Damon Hast for the last seven years.  In
the last six months it has made numerous stops within Federation
territory, mainly to pick up and deliver raw materials to Ferengi
and Harradin outposts."  Data paused to press a key.  The screen
showed a star map, orange lines highlighting flight paths.  "None
of the recorded stops of the Bashk-Na correlated with the command
of Admiral Godon.  Except one."  Data pressed another key.

"Zeta IV." said Picard.

"Yes Sir.  However, Godon visited the last two ports-of-call of
the Bashk-Na approximately one week prior to their arrival."

"Hardly enough to justify an official inquiry." he sighed, both
relieved and disappointed.  "Thank you Data.  That will be all."

"Of course Sir."  The android was ever-solicitous.

------------------------------

Guinan stood behind the bar, surveying her territory.  10-forward
was busy, but not unusually so.  She looked up as Will Riker
entered the lounge.  He sat down in front of her, hands clasped
in front of his chin.  She paused, waiting for him to speak.
After a moment or two she started to wipe the bar.

"Can I get you something, Commander?" she asked.

"Hm.  Zytherian whiskey."

Guinan poured the drink and set it in front of him.  Riker picked
it up and took a big swallow.  "Anything you want to talk about?"
she asked.

"Not really."

She took another swipe at the bar with her cloth.  "You know,
I've found that people who drink alone are actually looking for
someone to talk to, but don't know it."

Riker sighed.  "Thank you for your attempt at psychoanalysis,
Guinan, but I really don't need..."

"In fact, I've found that people who drink Zytherian whiskey are
particularly likely to deny the possibility that something is
bothering them." she continued.

He looked down at his drink and smiled.  "Have you ever thought
about becoming a ship's counselor?" he asked.

"What, and leave all this?" she said, waving her hand in an arc.
"Now tell me, what bothers you about her?"

"I never said it was a 'her'." answered Riker over his glass.
"Okay, okay, it's Ayla." he said, seeing Guinan's knowing stare.
"I just feel...sort of powerless around her.  Like she knows
what's going to happen but won't tell me."

"And that disturbs you."

"Well, yes actually.  I don't like the thought of someone
watching over me."

"You rely on people every day.  We all watch out for each other
on this ship."

"Yeah, but we're more open about it," he muttered into his glass.

Aha, thought Guinan.  "Commander, do you know how old I am?"

"No, not exactly." he said.

"Do you know anything about what I did before I came to the
_Enterprise_?"

"No."

"Does your not knowing interfere with your appreciation of my...
bartending skills?"  She said the word with irony.

"Well, no, but..."

"I see.  I take it you've never withheld anything from anyone."
she said.

Will didn't answer.  He was thinking about Deanna and the reason
she had left him.

Guinan put her cloth away.  "Then perhaps you should rethink your
position."

"Mackie to Guinan." came Ayla's voice over the intercom.

"This is Guinan," she answered.

"Guinan, I need to speak with you."

Guinan got a faraway look in her eyes.  "I know.  I'm on my way."
She glanced at Riker briefly.  He met her gaze unsmiling, then
stared back down into his diminishing drink as she left 10-
forward.
---------------------------

Ayla sat in front of the computer terminal in her quarters where
Deanna and Worf had left her.  "Computer," she said, "access all
Federation data on the Borg."

"Request security clearance." came the smooth voice from the
terminal.

"Recognize Salis, Yvonne, alpha-alpha-seven-victor-daniel-two."

The computer chirped.  "Clearance approved.  Proceed."

"Display technical schematics on Borg implants."  The screen
flickered imperceptibly as it accessed the required information.
Ayla watched the output for several minutes.  "Stop!" she said
suddenly.  "Reverse."  The screen scrolled slowly backward.
"Hold!"  She peered closer at the information.  Oh, Captain, my
Captain, she quoted to herself.  You know more about them than I
would have guessed.  "Mackie to Guinan," she said to the
computer.

"This is Guinan." came the reply.

"Guinan, I need to speak with you."

"I know.  I'm on my way."

A few minutes later the chime on Ayla's room sounded.  "Come in."
she said, looking up from her terminal.  Guinan moved into the
room towards her.

"What have you found?" asked the hostess.

Ayla turned the computer screen towards her.  "Does this look
familiar to you?"

Guinan stood absolutely still.  "It is a Borg."

"Yes.  It is a technical schematic for Borg implants similar to
those taken from Captain Picard.  Now," she said, pressing
another key, "do you recognize this?"

Guinan peered at the output.  "It also looks like Borg
technology..." she said.

"Almost.  This came from the archeological digs on Mytos, forty
years ago.  And, coincidentally, Admiral Godon's first command."

Guinan looked at her in surprise.

"I've been following Commander Data's investigation.  A most
dilligent being.  I should like to take the time to know him
someday."  She looked at Guinan. "I need to speak with Picard.  I
must know what he knows about the Borg."
-------------------------
[end part 9]
-------------------------
"Come!" said Picard as the door chime sounded in his ready room.
He had arrived on the bridge to see Admiral Godon occupying
Commander Riker's chair, his aide hovering nearby. It had not put
him in a good mood.  "Guinan, this is a surprise," he said as the
robed hostess entered.

"Captain, there's someone here who wishes to see you." she said
as Ayla Mackie entered the room behind her.

"Guinan, this is really not a good time.  I am not in the
mood..."

"Captain," said Ayla stepping from behind Guinan, "I need to
speak to you."

"It's going to have to wait." he said, returning to the computer
board he was studying.  "Now if you don't mind..."

"I need to talk to you about the Borg."

Picard's stomach sank at the word.  He looked up at Ayla, and
then at Guinan, who nodded.  "Please sit down," he said.

"I'll be in 10-forward." said the hostess.
Ayla took the seat directly across from Picard as the doors
hissed shut.  "Captain, I understand that you were...absorbed by
the Borg."

He winced at the word.  "Hardly." he said, tossing the computer
board down on his desk.  "I was forcibly taken into their
collective."

"What did you learn about their origins?"

Picard let out a sigh and rubbed his forhead.  "Only that they
were once a humanoid race.  Their 'triumph' was the integration
of machinery into their cellular structure."  And, of course, the
absolute certainty of their superiority as a species, he added to
himself.

"Any indication of where they got the idea of cellular
integration?"

"No.  You think that they may not have come up with the idea on
their own?"  he asked.

Ayla narrowed her eyes in concentration.  "The Borg are known for
their 'assimilation' of other cultures.  I cannot believe this
practice started only _after_ they were a humanoid-machine hybrid
race.  I think they took the idea from somewhere."

"Two separate Borg-like races?"  The thought made him slightly
ill.

"Sir!  Ship approaching from the Neutral Zone!" came Worf's voice
over the intercom.

Picard walked quickly on the bridge from his ready room with Ayla
close behind.  "Identify." he said, taking the command chair.

"Ferengi.  It is the Bashk-Na."

So you've come back, eh?  Picard thought.  "Lieutenant, place us
directly in their path.  Let's make them take notice of us."

"Captain, may I remind you that we are expected at Starbase 133?"
said Godon.

"The Bashk-Na has slowed to one-half impulse."

"Open a hailing frequency." snapped Picard, ignoring the Admiral.

"Open."

"On visual.  This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S.
Enterprise."

The face of a decorated Ferengi appeared on the screen.  "I am
Damon Hast.  What do you want, _human_?"  The word came out as a
sneer.

"I understand that you have been smuggling dyilite out of this
sector."

The Ferengi rolled his eyes.  "Merely a cargo run, for which we
made only a modest profit.  I was not aware that carrying dyilite
was a crime, _human_."

"No, but murder is."

"Murder?  I have committed no murder!" exclaimed Hast.  "I carry
the rocks.  Ask him about murder!" he said, pointing in the
direction of Godon and Vinar.

Godon jumped out of his chair.  Worf pulled his hand phaser and
aimed it at the Admiral.

Riker stepped on to the bridge from the turbolift.  "What the
hell is going on?" he said.

"Hast!" shouted Godon furiously.

"Sir, a ship is decloaking next to the Ferengi." said Data.

"Romulan?" asked Picard.

"Negative.  It does not conform to any known Federation or
Romulan design."  answered Data.

"Red Alert!  Shields at maximum." said Riker.  "On screen."

The face of the sneering Ferengi was replaced by a starfield.
Shimmering into view was a ship.

Picard stood up and moved closer to the screen.  "My God," he
whispered.

The ship was golden in hue.  One corner filled the viewscreen.

"Reduce magnification, factor 10." he said.

The Bashk-Na was dwarfed in comparison.  Four spiky arms
projected from the rear of a pentagon-shaped hull.

"Mr. Worf, can you hail the alien vessel?"

"Trying.  No response."

Ayla moved slowly along the wall toward tactical.

"Drop your shields, Captain." said Godon.  "They wish only to
meet you."
"Who?  Who are they?" demanded Picard.

Suddenly, Worf looked down at his panel.  "Sir, the alien vessel
is emitting an energy pulse...tight band...possibly a
transmission of some kind."

"Direction?" asked Picard.

"The bridge! Ooof!"  Worf felt the air go out of his lungs as
Ayla hit him from behind, knocking him to the floor.  A phaser
blast passed overhead, gouging deep into the computer boards
behind his station.

Ayla rolled to her knees and leaped over the railing separating
tactical from ops.  Vinar fired again, hitting Godon.  The man
vaporized with a whine.  She turned her body in mid-flight,
impacting with the full force of her right shoulder.  Vinar's
shot at Picard went wide, scoring a smoking line along the wall.
Though knocked to the ground, Vinar continued to hold onto his
phaser.  Rolling to his stomach, he aimed at the woman, who was
standing in a half-crouch.  There was a glitter of light in her
hand as he fired.  The pulse of energey reflected back towards
him, making a loud "pop!" as it hit him squarely in the chest.
The impact threw Vinar on to his back, where he lay still.

Ayla straightened and moved cautiously toward the Admiral's aide.
There was a gaping hole in his midsection.  Pulling back part of
his uniform, she peered inside.  What should have been internal
organs was instead a mass of fused circuits and wiring.

"Android?" asked Riker from over her shoulder.

She shook her head.  "Cyborg."

"Cyborgs were outlawed hundreds of years ago.  How could..."
Riker was interrupted by a bright burst of light from the
viewscreen.

"Sir!  The alien vessel has fired on the Bashk-Na.  It has been
destroyed!"  Worf had regained his post.

"Evasive manouver Gamma Hydra, warp 2!" shouted Picard.

The ship rocked dangerously.  And again.

"The alien ship has fired on us.  Shields down!"

"Fire phasers!" said Riker.

Lines of light streaked out from the saucer of the Enterprise.
They disappeared into the hull of the monstrous alien ship.

"No effect.  The energy appears to have been absorbed." said
Worf.
"Get us out of here Mr. Data." said Picard.

Data complied.  "No sign of pursuit," he said after a minute.
"However, with their cloaking technology, it may not be possible
to detect pursuit."

"Thank you, Data." replied Picard.  He turned toward Mackie, who
was still kneeling on the floor next to the aide.  "How did you
know?" he asked.

"It is as I told you, Captain," she said, reaching into the
cyborg's chest cavity.  "I believe the Borg borrowed their
implant idea from another race.  This one."  Ayla pulled a
crystal out of the aide and held it up to the light.  "However,
unlike the Borg, this race chose to put its implants on the
inside.  So instead of having a humanoid encased in a mechanized
shell..."

"You have a machine encased in a humanoid shell."  Picard
shivered at the thought.  "Impossible to detect."

"Well, almost."  Ayla said in an wry voice.  "If she'd been here,
Counselor Troi could have told you.  They 'feel' wrong.  To you,
it would have been like getting the 'creeps'."  She rotated the
crystal in her fingers.

"What's that?" asked Riker.

"Might be a memory chip."  She handed the crystal to Riker.  "I
think Godon first encountered the remains of the cyborgs'
technology on Mytos.  How he managed to contact them, I don't
know. But I suspect Godon and the Ferengi had no idea who they
were dealing with."

"To their demise."  Jean-Luc sat down in his chair.  "Mr. Data,
reset course for Starbase 133.  Engage."
---------------------------
Ayla Mackie sat and gazed out into the warped starfield receeding
from the window.  She heard the doors to the observation lounge
hiss open and shut.

"Am I disturbing you?" came Will Riker's tenative voice in the
darkness.

His voice caused a spot in her stomach to tingle.  "Please come
in, Commander."

Riker crossed the carpeted floor to the window.  He stood silent
for a moment, then became aware of a low, resonating melody.  It
sounded vaguely familiar, like a forgotten childhood nursery
rhyme.  As it echoed in his head, he tried in vain to identify
it.  Will felt his muscles relax as the song enveloped him.
Then, suddenly, the music stopped.  He swayed slightly, as if a
supporting hand had just released him.  "What was that?" he
asked.

"Sapienestra.  It is the life-song of your race." she said.
"Every species has its own life-song, a melody that represents
and binds them to their home world.  The Earth was filled with
these songs.  So many are silent now." she added in a sad voice.

Riker looked down at her.  He had expected her to be changed;
smaller, or more vulnerable perhaps.  But she appeared more
composed, more at peace with herself.  "What will you do now?" he
asked, changing the subject.

She placed the tips of her long fingers together.  "I believe I
will enter the Academy."

"Starfleet Academy?" Will said in a surprised voice.

A smile crossed Ayla's lips.  "Is there another Academy with
which I am not familiar?"

"Well, yes, there's the Vulcan Science Academy, but surely you
can't mean..." he stammered.

Ayla turned her green eyes on him.  "Will, Starfleet knows of my
existence now.  I can no longer do my work from the outside.  I
must work from inside."

"It will take you years to get through." he continued, taking the
seat next to her.  "Couldn't you stay and work from here?"  The
words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Think about what you are asking." she said.

"I am." he lied.  "I want you to stay."  The words made him
nervous, as if he was revealing a weakness.

Ayla reached up and stroked his cheek, feeling the roughness of
his beard beneath her hand.  "Oh Will," she said, "it has been so
long since I have rested, so long since..." she paused, seeing
hope leap up in his eyes.  "I must go.  It is my duty, as your
commission is yours.  Who knows," she added, her eyes twinkling,
"we may meet again out here.  Perhaps I will have the good
fortune to serve with you."

Riker smiled.  "It would be fortunate indeed."

She returned the smile.  "So tell me, Commander," she teased,
"are all the men in Starfleet Academy as attractive as yourself?"

"No," he growled and pulled her into an embrace.
=================================================================
                   The End
=================================================================
Characters in Star Trek and Star Trek: The Next Generation are
copyrighted by Paramount Pictures, Inc.
Text and story, _The Witness_ by Kathryn J. Aikin, copyright
1992.