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Subject: Repost: Home Is Where The Heart Is
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Date: Mon, 11 May 1992 11:36:05 GMT
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Story:	"Home Is Where The Heart Is"
Author:	andres@cbnewsj.cb.att.com (Andy C)








                      Home Is Where The Heart Is

                                  A
                    Star Trek: The Next Generation
                                Novel


                              Written By
                         Andres Castineiras










Theme:
Data falls in love with a beautiful Enterprise scientist as 
Commander Riker, in temporary command of the Enterprise, 
faces the ultimate test of the Prime Directive - whether or 
not to try to save a planet from nuclear holocaust! 







The following manuscript is based on characters 
created by Gene Roddenberry and copyright by 
Paramount Pictures Corporation.  No infringement 
of that copyright is intended.  The story idea in 
this manuscript is Copyright (c) 1989 by Andres 
Castineiras and may not be reproduced in any form 
without the prior written consent of the author.


                        FOREWORD

The action in this novel takes place about half way through 
the second season of Star Trek: The Next Generation, shortly 
after the episode The Dauphin and before the episode 
Contagion.  Up to this point the episodes dealt almost 
exclusively with diplomatic missions and visits to 
starbases, thus Captain Picard's attitude in the open scenes 
of this novel.  After this point the episodes dealt more 
with actual exploration.
This novel deals with one of the most interesting dilemmas 
of the Star Trek Universe, application of the Prime 
Directive to a warring planet.  I hope you enjoy it.



                        PROLOGUE

Home, that was the one word on his mind.  To him it 
represented both the concept and the name of his planet.  He 
had been away from her for far too long.  His name 
translated roughly into Federation standard as John 
Wigginson, his rank as Major.  He alone commanded the vessel 
Cycler 1 from the planet Gamma Synchnaurus III, a planet his 
people referred to as Home.  Major Wigginson was on his 
third continuous tour of duty aboard Cycler 1, and he was 
becoming weary.
Wigginson, and his people, were what Federation scientists 
would call "quite humanoid".  There were some details of 
internal arrangement that differed from those of the natives 
of planet Earth, but they were all minor.  Wigginson himself 
was a middle aged man, about five feet, nine inches tall, 
with a receding and graying hairline.  His race had just 
begun to move out to the neighboring planets of their system 
and he was there at the beginning.  He had seen it all, from 
first sub-orbital flights to the first steps on each of the 
Homesian moons, to the establishment of a permanent orbiting 
space station.  In fact, Wigginson had contributed to a 
great deal of that early history, first as an astronaut and 
then as a member of the Space Command and most recently as 
an officer in the Space Force of his country, Comoris.
Due, in part, to his own lobbying efforts, and considerable 
pull in the space program,  a base had been established on 
the fourth planet of their system, Quarta.  The base was 
staffed with personnel from all the space-faring nations of 
Home.  It was the one and only collaborative effort they had 
all made in space.
Wigginson's thoughts suddenly shifted to the cabin around 
him.  He had spent countless days within these walls, walls 
of stark utilitarian design, not an inch of space wasted.  
The walls were studded with equipment lockers and velcro 
hooks to attach items that might float away under freefall 
conditions.  The sole luxury was a single small viewport 
overlooking the grandeur of space.
The Cycler represented the state-of-the-art in Homesian 
technology.  Wigginson had originated the Cycler idea 
himself.  Little did he know that it had already been 
invented by an Earth scientist some three hundred years in 
the past and re-discovered in countless other star systems 
since then.  The concept was simple and elegant.  Start a 
ship going in a proper orbit between two planets and, with 
minimal corrections, it would continue to cycle between 
those two planets indefinitely.  Cycler 1 was five weeks out 
from Quarta base on a two month trip back to Home.  It was 
one of a kind, no other Cyclers had been built, and probably 
never would be.
Wigginson sat at his desk, held there by the one half 
gravity afforded by the rotating mass of the Cycler crew and 
passenger module, reading the latest reports from Homeside.  
Although he was on loan to the international group that had 
established Quarta base, Wigginson still held a commission 
in the Space Force of Comoris.  As such he was kept apprised 
of relations with the other countries involved in the joint 
venture, particularly those with the other major Homesian 
superpower, Lucreacia.  Tensions between Comorians and the 
Lucs were rising rapidly.
Wigginson was both happy and not to be returning to the 
planet of his birth, Home.
**********
CAPTAIN Jean-Luc Picard was sitting in his command chair on 
the bridge of the Galaxy class USS Enterprise calmly 
entering his latest log entry.
"Captain's Log, Stardate 42581.2.  What a pleasure it is 
finally to be back on pure exploration duty.  With so many 
recent missions being diplomatic in nature, including our 
recent voyage to Dalad IV, I feel as though the Enterprise 
has been a glorified courier vessel.  Between shuttling 
diplomats and the seemingly endless re-fits and courtesy 
visits to new Starbases and the like, we have been away from 
our true mission far too long."
"We are currently enroute to the Synchnaurus Star Group on 
the far end of known space.  The third star in the group, 
Gamma Synchnaurus, is a G2 star, not unlike Earth's own 
Sun."  Picard paused contemplating his next words before he 
continued, "Based on electronic intelligence data gathered 
over forty years ago by an automated scientific scout 
vessel, we know that the third planet of that system is the 
home to a race of humanoid beings.  Our mission is to 
perform a detailed survey of the system and its inhabitants.  
Since this is a previously uncontacted race, the Prime 
Directive is in full force.  I look forward to the 
challenge."
In the seat next to Picard, Commander William T. Riker, 
first officer of the Enterprise, looked on his Captain with 
a favorable gaze.  Picard turned to Riker and smiled, "Well, 
Number One, it seems we will get to do some real exploring 
for a change."
"Yes, Sir," replied Riker, a patented grin on his bearded 
face.  "It will be a welcome one, Captain."
Lt. Worf, the Klingon Security Chief, stood behind Picard 
and Riker at his duty station.  The panel in front of him 
could be programmed to display information about any of the 
varied systems of the Enterprise.  Its default setting 
monitored the various defensive and offensive systems and 
the communications of the mighty vessel.  He was looking at 
the comm panel when an indication appeared.
"Incoming communication from Star Fleet Command, Captain," 
he announced.  "It's coded for the Captain, First Officer 
and Security Officer's eyes only."
Picard and Riker exchanged a glance.  "Very well, Mr. Worf," 
said Picard as he stood, "In my Ready Room, Gentlemen."  
Picard led the way to his sanctuary just off the bridge of 
the starship, Riker and Worf on his heels.
Once in the Ready Room Picard activated his personal 
computer terminal, turning the screen to face towards the 
assembled group.  Picard spoke to the terminal, "Picard, 
Jean-Luc, Captain, requesting access to and playback of 
recent transmission from Star Fleet Command."
"Working," replied the computer in a pleasant and quite 
normal female voice.  The screen illuminated to show a 
standard fleet title page that read as follows:
TO: PICARD, JEAN-LUC, CAPTAIN, GALAXY CLASS USS ENTERPRISE NCC-
1701D
FROM: WILLIAMS, CHARLES D., ADMIRAL, STAR FLEET CORP OF ENGINEERS.
STARDATE: 42581.2
RE: NEW ORDERS.
Picard and Riker exchanged a distressed look as they read 
the last line of the title page.  They had come so close to 
an actual exploration mission to be stopped by even more 
Star Fleet diversions.
The screen cleared and promptly displayed the image of an 
older man in Star Fleet Admiral's uniform sitting behind the 
proverbial desk.  He had a full head of gray hair and a 
pleasant look about him, dampening the Captain and First 
Officer's spirits even further.  
"That's trouble,"  Riker said immediately, "No Star Fleet 
Admiral looks that happy unless he's going to throw you 
curve."  Picard frowned in reply.
The figure on screen began to speak, "Greetings Captain 
Picard, I am Admiral Charles David Williams, Head of the 
Star Fleet Corp of Engineers.  You are hereby ordered to 
proceed immediately to Star Base 142, orbiting Onizuka IV, 
for an analysis and re-fit of your main weaponry systems.  
Recent advances have led us to believe that photon torpedo 
efficiency can be increased by ten percent with this re-fit.  
Your vessel has been selected to field trial the 
improvement.  Acknowledge this transmission and alter your 
flight plan as filed to comply.  End of message."
The terminal screen faded to black.  "Merde," was all that 
Picard could think to say.
"Just like that," offered Riker.
"Yes, Number One, just like that," answered Picard as he 
moved behind his desk and slid into his desk chair.  "It 
would seem that Star Fleet has other plans for us."
"There must be something we can do about this, can't it 
wait?," Riker added.
Picard placed his hands together, his index fingers 
extending upward cradling the bridge of his nose, his eyes 
closed in concentration.  Abruptly he looked up at the 
waiting First Officer and Security Chief.  "Perhaps there is 
a way."
"How," asked Riker, "we can't very well defy a direct order 
from a Star Fleet Admiral."
"Ah, but perhaps we can both comply and not comply," 
answered Picard.
Riker looked perplexed at this statement as he glanced from 
Worf to Picard.
"Saucer separation," deduced Worf.
"Of course.  One of us can command the Engineering Section 
and the main weapons back to Star base, while the other 
continues with the main saucer section to the Gamma 
Snychnaurus system," elaborated Riker as he and Picard 
exchanged a knowing glance.  Riker knew how much Picard 
wanted this exploration mission so he quickly added, "I'll 
take the Engineering Section, Sir."
Picard thought for a moment and then his features took on a 
characteristic form.  Riker knew the look.  Once Picard had 
decided on a course of action that he could not be dissuaded 
from he often had that particular look about him.  Riker 
knew not to argue with Picard's next statement.
"No, Number One," said Picard, "I'll take her back.  The 
order was to me, I am the Enterprise's Captain, I must go.  
You will accompany me, Mr. Worf, as Security Chief you 
should oversee any weapons re-fit."
"Aye, Sir," replied Worf.
Keeping his gaze on Riker, Picard spoke again to Worf, 
"Dismissed, Lieutenant."  Worf nodded, made a perfect about 
face and exited the Ready Room.
"Well, that's it then," continued Picard after Worf had 
exited. "We'll rendezvous with you again in approximately 
five days, at these coordinates."  Before Riker could 
respond he quickly added, "Now, if you'll excuse me I have 
some things to accomplish before we separate."  Riker nodded 
his compliance and left the room.
                       CHAPTER 1

Five hours later, Commander William T. Riker sat in the 
command chair on the main bridge of the USS Enterprise 
saucer section dictating his own log entry.
"Ship's log Stardate 42581.31, First Officer Reporting.  
While the Captain and Security chief are off with the battle 
section on Starbase 142 for a weapons re-fit, the saucer 
section is more closely exploring the Gamma Synchnaurus 
system.  The area was first visited by a Federation vessel 
over forty years ago, but a close survey of the intelligent 
humanoid species on the third planet has never been 
attempted.  The last starship to visit here reported that 
the inhabitants were in the beginnings of a nuclear and 
space age.  They had just begun to reach out to their two 
small moons.  The inhabitants of Gamma Synchnaurus III are 
still considered too primitive to approach as a possible 
addition to the Federation.  While we are here to update the 
survey we must be very careful, for we are fully bound by 
the Prime Directive."
"We have positioned the Enterprise on the outskirts of the 
GS system to complete our pre-approach scans and plan our 
next move."  Riker, his log entry completed, surveyed the 
scene on the Enterprise bridge.  Data, the android Lt. 
Commander, was at the OPS console, Wesley Crusher, the young 
acting Ensign,  at the helm.  Deanna Troi, the Ship's 
Counselor, was at her station beside Riker, observing him 
critically, yet tempered by affection.  Geordie LaForge, the 
ship's Chief Engineer, manned the Engineering Station. The 
Security position, normally manned by Worf was now manned by 
a young Black Ensign in gold Security uniform.
Satisfied that all was as it should be, Riker stood and 
strolled forward towards the helm.  He was delighted with 
this chance to command at least part of the Enterprise.  The 
main screen showed a view of a large cratered moon 
stationary below them.  "Status, Ensign," said Riker.
"We are stationary, Sir," replied Wesley Crusher. "Holding 
position over the largest moon of Gamma Synchnaurus VII.  
The moon's bulk is between us and most of their space 
looking instruments . . ."
"Most?" interrupted Riker,  "Let's be absolutely sure we 
can't be seen out here, that's very important, Ensign."
"Yes, Sir," replied Crusher.
Data, busy working his console at OPS, suddenly looked up at 
Riker, "Sir, it is possible that we may have already been 
scanned."
"What!"  Riker gaze was now firmly on Data.  He moved into 
position directly behind the android to get a better look at 
the information on the OPS panel.
Data was again busy pressing various contact points on the 
console, "I am getting unusual readings on my sensor scans.  
It appears that a metal object might have been within sensor 
range just as we were maneuvering behind this moon.  It may 
have been a planetary probe, Commander.  If it was 
operating, and if it happened to be looking our way at the 
proper time, then we may have been observed."
This comment brought Riker bolt upright and he immediately  
turned to face the Geordie at the Engineering Station.  
"Geordie, why didn't we detect that probe before it became a 
danger to our mission?"
Geordie looked up from his own button pushing to reply, 
"Commander,  we were doing a regulation two pi steradian 
solid angle pre-approach scan when we came across it.  Right 
after it came into our sensor beam we moved behind this 
moon.  These people have allot of hardware out here in the 
outer solar system, Sir, there's nothing we could have 
done."  Geordie paused for a moment considering, then added, 
"Maybe it was dead."
"Negative," Data interjected, "It seems to have been 
registering some energy emissions when we encountered it."
Wesley Crusher sat and listened, a more and more worried 
look emerging on his face.  Finally he spoke, "Sorry, Sir, I 
guess I didn't get us out of sight fast enough."
This comment seemed to break the tension in the room.  Riker 
turned back to Wesley, a large grin on his face, "An 
apology?  I don't remember asking you for an apology, 
Ensign?"
"Sir?," asked Wesley, now more uncomfortable than ever.
Riker laughed, "Don't worry, Wes.  Just something an old 
role model of mine might have said."  Riker turned, returned 
to the command chair and sat down.  "Besides, it wasn't your 
fault.  It's nobody's really.  Geordie's right, there is 
just too much space junk out here.  Most of it much smaller 
that a shuttle craft or one of our sensor probes for that 
matter.  In any case, let's keep a sharp eye out.  Set 
sensors for rapid scanning, I want the sky swept every 
ninety seconds."
LaForge's hands flew over his console, silently carrying out 
Riker's last command.  A few moments later, Riker again 
stood up in front of the command chair and from the middle 
of the bridge surveyed his bridge crew.  "Comments, 
suggestions on how to proceed?," he said.
"Suggest we employ cloaking device, Sir," Data offered.
Riker turned to his Chief Engineer, "Geordie?"
Again LaForge paused to think, "Well, it's new and not 
anywhere as good as the latest Romulan version, but it will 
keep these people from seeing us.  Of course it will take 
allot of power, especially without the warp drive section.  
We could maintain a cloak long enough to complete the survey 
and get far enough away to de-cloak safely."
Riker again sat down at the command chair.  His hand 
absently stroked his beard as he was lost in thought.  The 
cloaking device was new to Federation starships.  The 
technology was Romulan, old style Romulan to be specific.  
The cloaking system was originally brought into the 
Federation by the first starship to bear the name 
Enterprise, commanded by the legendary Captain James T. 
Kirk.  The device was analyzed for weakness by Federation 
scientists and deemed inappropriate for use on Federation 
starships.
That feeling had slowly changed in the years since that 
time.  The Federation was now equipping some ships with a 
version of the same device that Kirk had appropriated from 
the Romulans.  It was only to be used only in certain 
situations.  It was not recommended for use in battle, it 
was too easy to detect a ship so equipped with modern 
sensors.  It had far more disadvantages than advantages.  
However, on an intelligence gathering mission or on an 
exploration mission, such as the Enterprise was now on, it 
could be used to advantage.  "Very well," said Riker, "We'll 
continue to Gamma Synchnaurus III under cloak. Mr. Data, 
engage cloaking device."
[Note to the Editor:  Use of the Cloaking device is not 
central to the story line.  A plausible story could be made 
using Deflector Shields.  However, it works better with the 
cloak.]
"Aye, Sir," responded Data.  After quickly depressing 
several contact points on his console, Data announced, 
"Cloak is engaged, Commander.  All systems show green."
To an observer on the moon below them, the looming shape of 
the USS Enterprise saucer section would have been seen to 
shimmer, and then waiver and finally vanish.  The ship was 
now invisible to all but the most sophisticated sensing 
devices.
Satisfied, Riker turned his attention to the helm, "Mr. 
Crusher bring us about to heading 115 mark zero nine zero, 
ahead one quarter impulse speed."
"Aye, Sir. One one five mark ninety," replied Crusher.
"Engage," added Riker.
"Going to impulse power, now," said Crusher as he depressed 
the proper contact point on the Helm.  Promptly, the bulk of 
the Enterprise Saucer section began to clear the large moon 
and head on its course to the third planet.
"Let's see what they have been up to in the last 40 years or 
so," Riker announced.  "Keep our sensors searching the sky 
for probes, and I want to know more about that one that may 
have spotted us."  Riker again stood up and began to move 
across the bridge, "Data assemble the bridge crew in the 
briefing room in fifteen minutes.  I'll be in the Ready 
Room."  With that said, Riker disappeared behind the Ready 
Room door.

**********
An encoded stream of bits, electromagnetic ones and zeros, 
traveled at the speed of light towards Gamma Synchnaurus 
III, the planet Home.  The bits were received by a 
communications satellite in synchronous orbit about the 
planet and downlinked to a computer system at the Comoris 
Space Force Command Headquarters.  Once received the 
computer system transformed the bits into a high resolution 
picture of an incredible saucer shaped vessel, looming above 
the largest moon of the seventh planet in the system.  Other 
pictures began to form as well, in infrared, ultra-violet 
and other spectral regions, all showing the same 
unidentified vessel.
The clerk on duty was far too busy with other matters to 
wonder about the unusual event.  He recorded receipt of the 
images in a log and transferred the raw data to optical 
disk.  Turning to the data terminal next to him he typed in 
a request to the automated system.  A report of the 
occurrence would be sent out to all strategic space-based 
personnel.  Turning back to his other duties, the clerk 
promptly forgot all about the images.
Major John Wigginson was sitting at his desk again,  a 
window on his personal computer screen open to the latest 
status reports from Home.  He had stopped at a curious entry 
regarding a unidentified vessel sighting.  Another window 
was open to the word processing program he used to keep his 
log.  He had typed the following words there:
Cycler 1, Log Entry 221, Wigginson, J., Commanding.
We are seven weeks out in our cycler orbit from our outpost 
on Quarta, heading back towards Home.  The bulk of my crew 
and passengers remain on the outpost and we are now only 
carrying personnel on rotation Homeside.  Tensions are still 
high between our government back home and the Lucreacians, 
our chief political rivals.  Now my country is reporting an 
added problem: an USV.  An damned flying saucer spotted 
right in our own solar system by one of our unmanned probes.
Wigginson sat farther back in his chair contemplating what 
to type next.  After a long while he continued his typing:
What do they think I can do about it?  What will happen when 
the Lucs get a hold of this news?  Will it be enough to 
drive them over the edge?

Wigginson's face was a portrait of exhaustion.  His gaze 
turned away from his terminal and over to the lone port hole 
overlooking the stars.  He knew he couldn't do anything from 
where he sat.  Like his vessel, he was trapped in an orbit 
that he could not control.  Whatever happened on Home, and 
whatever part this unfamiliar vessel would play, he would 
have no say in it.  The inexorable feeling of uselessness 
was overwhelming.
**********
Riker stood, frozen, his back against the Ready Room door. 
He surveyed what was normally the Captain's own private 
domain.  It made him feel somehow uneasy, as if he were 
intruding.  He looked from the wall mounted fish tank, full 
of tropical fish, to the desk and out the large viewport at 
the slowly moving stars.  He pulled his gaze off the star 
field and again contemplated the desk.  Yes, he thought, I 
should be sitting over there, doing . . . something.
Riker summoned all his strength and moved over to the desk, 
around it and sat in the chair.  "That wasn't too bad," he 
said aloud, a smile back on his face.  He sat back in the 
chair and made himself comfortable.  Soon he would have to 
face the real world again.  He wondered what Picard would do 
in this situation.  Riker knew that the Captain often 
engaged in solving puzzling scientific and mathematical 
problems to get his mind off the routine of running a 
starship and to reduce the strain of command.  Riker did not 
much enjoy such pastimes, he would rather listen to an 
exotic alien ballad or a good jazz piece.
As he sat thinking about his next actions his gaze dropped 
to the terminal built into the desk top.  An indicator was 
flashing a MESSAGE WAITING indication.  Riker knew that the 
indication would only be on if the person that the message 
was for was sitting at the desk.  Since the computer knew it 
was Riker at the desk, and not Picard, the message must be 
for him.  Riker sat up straight and was about to retrieve 
the message when the Ready Room door slid open to reveal 
Counselor Deanna Troi.
Troi quietly entered the room, a slight frown on her face. 
Annoyed, Riker looked up from the desk, but smiled as he saw 
who it was.  "Counselor, here to tear apart my command 
abilities already?," he joked, "I've only been in charge for 
a little over five hours now."  He stopped when he realized 
she was not enjoying his little attempt at humor.
"No, Commander," she answered absently.
"What's the matter, Deanna?," asked Riker.
"Imzadi," she began, using her Betazoid pet name for Riker, 
"I'm worried about this mission.  What if we have been seen.  
These people are primitive, but they could still be 
dangerous to us.  What if we have already inadvertently 
broken the Prime Directive?"
Riker smiled at the sound of his pet name,  she used it less 
and less often these days.  At one time she would never have 
addressed him as anything but Imzadi.  He smiled warmly at 
her, trying to lighten her mood, "You had better not call me 
that while I'm in command, Deanna."
She smiled briefly at this comment then continued, "Oh, 
Will, be serious."  She moved farther into the room so that 
the door behind her would close.  She hesitated for some 
seconds and then blurted out her real concern, "You've never 
been in command during a Prime Directive crisis before, do 
you think you can handle that?"
Riker thought seriously about this, it was a legitimate 
question, and one that was on his mind.  This situation was 
not as dangerous as the time he had taken command of the 
Klingon vessel Pagh, at least not in the physical sense. He 
had passed all the academy tests, but would he be able to do 
the right thing in a real situation?  He knew what the 
answer must be, "That's why I'm here, Deanna," he replied.  
"I signed aboard the Enterprise instead of accepting a 
lesser command of my own just so I would get to be in these 
situations, to learn how to handle them; to learn how I 
would handle them."
"But Captain Picard is not here to teach you now, do you 
think you can handle it, Commander?," she asked again.
Riker was slightly taken aback at the insinuation that he 
needed Picard to teach him, but he quickly realized that was 
probably another reason he was on the Enterprise.  He 
finally looked up at Troi again and decided to take one more 
shot at trying to lighten her mood.  "So we're back to 
Commander, that must be an official question!"
Troi gave Riker a sharp, but amused look.  Riker realized 
immediately that he was not going to be able to calm the 
Counselor's fears with humor.  So he decided to play it 
straight.  "It'll be okay, Counselor," he began.  "Besides I 
have the support of everyone out there on the bridge; 
together we'll find a way."
Troi was still uneasy.  Riker could see it in her face, he 
could feel it, in an almost Betazoid fashion, he had a 
unique connection with Troi.  He stood and walked around the 
desk, quickly covering the space between them, his eyes 
locked in hers.  He stopped about a foot from her and placed 
his strong hands lightly on her upper arms before he spoke 
again. "Is something else wrong, Deanna?," he said, 
searching her eyes for an answer.
Troi looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze, "It's just 
that I've never had to counsel you in the position of 
commander of this starship before, Will," she said in an 
uncharacteristically soft voice.  "I'm worried that I might 
fail you at a critical time by letting our past get in the 
way."
Riker smiled again, "Not a chance," he said to her, "You're 
too good a Counselor for that, Deanna."
Troi finally smiled and shook her head, again fixing her 
gaze on Riker's eyes.  Riker slowly removed his hands from 
her shoulders, but continued to stand directly in front of 
her, less than a foot away.
Troi's smile was steady as she began to speak again, "I'm 
the one who is supposed to be giving you counsel, 
Commander," she said, evoking a small laugh from Riker.  
"Thanks for the pep talk.  I'll leave you to your work now, 
Sir."  With that said, Troi backed out of the Ready Room, 
turned and walked away.  Riker smiled at her as she exited.
Once the doors had closed, Riker returned to the task he had 
begun before Troi had arrived.  He strolled back behind the 
desk and resumed his seat, now totally at ease with his 
surroundings.  The talk with Troi had settled his own nerves 
as well as hers.  He laughed at himself as he realized she 
had probably planned it that way.   He reached across the 
desk and activated the computer terminal.  "Computer, 
playback message for Commander Riker."
"Working," replied the terminal.  At once the screen 
brightened to show a view of the room he was sitting in.  A 
familiar face dominated the screen, it was Jean-Luc Picard.  
Before Riker could react, the image of Picard began to 
speak.
"Commander Riker . . . Will, I'm leaving you this little 
message as a reminder.  It seems strange to be talking to 
you again, since you have just left my Ready Room.  Of 
course you won't see this message until we have separated 
and you have an occasion to sit at my desk, as I know you 
will."
Riker smiled, realizing now what Picard had to accomplish 
when he had left him alone in this room some five hours 
earlier.
The message continued, "You are a fine officer Number One, 
that is why I had no qualms about leaving you in command 
while Worf and I go off to meet our re-fit schedule.  This 
mission should be an exciting one for you, I only wish that 
I could be there to share it.  Be advised however, that you 
are going into a Prime Directive situation."
"I will not remind you of the importance of that directive; 
all academy graduates have that ingrained in their heads.  
What I will tell you, is that these situations can be 
difficult -- to put it mildly.  It is too easy, too enticing 
to let one's feeling come into play and make the wrong 
decisions.  I have the utmost confidence that you will 
choose the right path, Number One.  Remember above all else, 
we must uphold the Prime Directive, or we are nothing."
"One last piece of advice, Number One; we have a fine bridge 
crew and a staff of hundreds of professionals aboard; don't 
hesitate to use their skills should the need arise.  I have 
no doubt that this mission of yours will go smoothly.  Bon 
chance, Number One.  Picard out."
The terminal screen faded to black.  Riker was left alone 
again, thoughtfully rubbing his bearded face,  "I hope 
you're right, Captain," he said to himself.  Riker pondered 
the Captain's advice, he was right about the crew of course.  
Besides the bridge crew and their alternates, the Enterprise 
was home to hundreds of scholars, doctors, nurses, engineers 
and scientists, and their spouses and children.  In all, 
over a thousand people comprised the complement of the 
Galaxy class vessel, most of them still at his disposal on 
the saucer section.  Riker could, on a moment's notice, 
obtain the services of any number of specialists in any 
field of endeavor.  Suddenly a thought occurred to him and 
he reached over to activate the computer terminal.



                        CHAPTER 2

The bridge crew was assembled around the curved table in the 
main briefing room on deck 5.  A wall of windows much like 
the one in the smaller bridge briefing room separated them 
from the slowly moving star field.   Normally the view would 
have shown dozens of streaking stars indicative of motion 
under warp drive, but the saucer section of the USS 
Enterprise was not capable of traveling at such speeds.
The saucer was used mainly as a lifeboat for the non-
combative members of the crew and their families during 
times of battle or other crisis.  At such times it would be 
taken, under warp drive, to some safe distance, separated 
from the main battle section and left to fend for itself 
until the battle or crisis was over.  Now it was being used 
as a separate vessel so that the Enterprise crew could 
perform two missions at once, a novel use, and one that 
probably would cause ripples clear up the chain of command 
once the word got out.
Riker, Data, LaForge and Troi all sat around the table, 
eyeing the one newcomer to the group.  Only Riker knew who 
she was, since it was at his request that she had joined 
them.  The others would have to wait for introductions.  The 
newcomer was a female Lt. Commander dressed in a blue Star 
Fleet Sciences uniform, she was about 30 years of age, tall 
of stature, possessed of shoulder length curly dark hair and 
dark eyes.  She was quite attractive and appeared to be calm 
and self-assured, not at all nervous about being thrust into 
close association with the senior members of the bridge 
crew.
Riker called the meeting to order precisely on schedule. 
"I've called this meeting to discuss the mission situation 
and to plan our next moves," he stated flatly.  Deciding to 
let his crew wait a while longer before introducing the 
outsider, he turned to Geordie LaForge and continued, 
"First, I want to hear the report on that probe, Engineer."
"We were able to locate that same probe, Commander," 
responded LaForge, "And it is functional.  ata," said Riker, cutting Data off before he could 
spew forth the entire technical specification of the craft, 
"Did the probe scan us?  Has it reported its findings back 
to GS III?"
"I believe the answer to both questions is yes, Commander," 
said Data, not in the least bit annoyed at having been cut 
off.  Data was constantly trying to improve himself, he knew 
that he often reported much more information than was 
necessary for the given situation.  After pausing a moment 
to see if Riker had any more questions, he continued, "The 
probe is equipped with multiple passive sensors on all sides 
and is constantly sending data back towards Gamma 
Synchnaurus III, the planet that the inhabitants refer to as 
Home."
"The passive sensors may be the reason we didn't get an 
automated indication of the probe's presence," added 
LaForge.  "Our automatic warning systems are keyed by any 
kind of energy impinging on our navigational screens.  Only 
active sensors would do that.  The mass of the probe was too 
small to show up on our mass detectors, we were lucky to 
pick it up by accident during the pre-approach scan."
The scenario had merit.  The Enterprise's automated alarms 
were only designed to detect active sensing, that is, 
sensors that used some form of energy or matter beam to 
illuminate or otherwise scan an object.  Passive sensors 
were limited, and not generally in use by advanced races.  
The oversight infuriated Riker, "Lucky!", he nearly yelled, 
"Now we know they have proof of our existence," he added in 
a more even tone, "And that, ladies and gentlemen, places us 
in direct violation of the Prime Directive!"
Riker's statement brought the discussion to a halt.  All at 
once the assembled crew began to discuss Riker's last 
comment among themselves.  Only the newcomer did not 
participate, she simply sat back in her chair and listened 
to the others argue, an intent look on her face.  She seemed 
to be weighting the pros and cons herself, before she would 
enter the discussion.
Riker was preoccupied with his own thoughts.  He now knew, 
as did they all, that the Enterprise had been observed by a 
wandering inter-planetary probe.  Images of their vessel 
could even now be under review by the inhabitants of Gamma 
Synchnaurus III, the planet Home, that had sent out this 
vessel.  Riker had no idea what impact this indisputable 
proof of a superior alien culture would have on the 
Homesians.
Riker forced himself back to the discussion he had started. 
He  raised his right hand to signal the meeting back to 
order.  The assembled crewmen immediately ended their side 
conversations and settled down.  When all was quiet, Riker, 
gestured to the female newcomer.  "Lt. Commander Grissom," 
he began in a somewhat strained voice, "Is an expert on 
primitive space faring races."  He paused to let that bit of 
information sink in.  "She'll be working with us to help us 
better understand the type of race we're dealing with."
Data, sitting opposite and to the left of Grissom, was busy 
accessing his records on the Lt. Commander as soon as he 
heard her name.  A look of admiration appeared on his face 
as he completed the search.  Since Data made it a point to 
review the records of all ship's personnel, he had no 
difficulty in connecting the name Grissom to her records in 
his computer fast mind, even before Riker had finished his 
introduction.  Grissom, Pamela A., Data thought, Lt. 
Commander, Star Fleet Sciences.  He ran through her entire 
life history, including her education, Star Fleet records, 
publication lists, everything, including her medical 
records, which his mind dwelt upon for almost a full 
nanosecond.  All of this was accomplished before Riker was 
done saying the word races.  Her record was exemplary, both 
as a scientist and as a Star Fleet officer.  Data looked 
across the table at her approvingly, immediately accepting 
her as a colleague, in fact he almost smiled at her.
Riker began to speak again, breaking Data out of his revere, 
"What is your evaluation of our situation, Mr. Grissom."
"Forty years ago these people had barely begun to explore 
their immediate planet-moon system," began Grissom in a 
husky but not unpleasant voice.  "By most standards they 
should be into the classic third stage of space development 
by now."
"Meaning?," asked Riker.
"A third stage space developmental state," began Data before 
Grissom could reply, "Is one that includes a permanently 
occupied space station and perhaps the beginnings of a base 
on a nearby planet or moon . . ."
Grissom immediately turned to listen to Data, looking 
somewhat annoyed at the interruption.  Before Data could 
continue his answer she cut him off and continued the 
explanation to Riker, "Thank you, Lt. Commander Data," she 
said cooly,  "As I was saying, I wouldn't be at all 
surprised if they have a significant presence in space, 
including a base on one of the inner planets, probably the 
fourth planet, by now."
"Intriguing," Data said, "Long range scans do indicate some 
signs of high technology on the fourth planet, enough for a 
small colony perhaps.  Did you review the scans Lt. 
Commander?"
"No," she replied, "But as I said, I'm not surprised."
Data tilted his head to one side, trying to comprehend how 
this person could be so accurate, based solely on theory.  
Data was not fully versed in the area and so was dully 
impressed with the other Lt. Commander's abilities.
Riker spoke up again, breaking Data's concentration, he 
addressed his comment to Grissom, "Very good, Commander, but 
what does this have to do with your assessment of our 
situation?"
"Yes, Sir," she replied, not in the least bit phased by the 
comment, "I was leading up to that.  If they are a third 
stage culture, then a good deal of space travel and 
development may still be in the hands of their military."
"Are you suggesting they'd try to attack us?," asked Riker.
"Not unless they can find us first," added LaForge half 
jokingly, producing a slight chuckle from Troi and Riker.
"No, Sir," replied Grissom, seemingly oblivious of LaForge's 
side comment,  "I'm simply suggesting that their military 
will be the first to see the pictures from that probe."  
Riker was listening intently now.  Grissom continued, "If 
these people are still divided along intra-planetary 
boundaries, not uncommon for third stagers, then news of us 
may be destablizing; if one side has the information and the 
other doesn't."
"On the other hand, now that they have lost contact they may 
forget about us and worry about opponents closer at hand.  I 
would monitor their military communications and see if there 
is any chatter about us."
Riker could hardly believe what he was hearing, this was the 
expert the computer had suggested?   He thought it over a 
second and, trying desperately to keep the tone of his voice 
down, said, "So you're saying that on the one hand we could 
have destabilized their strategic military balance, but, on 
the other hand, that they may forget about us by tomorrow?"  
He lost his battle and yelled at her, "Which is it, 
Commander!?"
Grissom was still apparently unaffected, as if she 
anticipated the reaction.  "Sir, I need to know more about 
the culture and the people who would be getting those 
pictures of us before I can make that determination.  I was 
simply relating the range of possible outcomes for planning 
purposes," she answered in a thoroughly professional tone of 
voice.
Riker's face fell.  He was almost angry at himself for 
having yelled at a subordinate.  Of course, she was right.  
After all, she was at this meeting on ten minutes notice and 
had done well to review the file on this star system and its 
people in that amount of time.  He was being too hard on 
her, "Very well, Commander," he said to her, his voice more 
even keyed, then, turning to the assembled crew, he 
continued, "Any suggestions about how we can accomplish 
this?"
"We have been monitoring their communications," Data 
offered.  "I have run them through the language banks and 
have had the computer search for any reference to what might 
be termed a Unidentified Flying Object, a UFO, a Flying 
Saucer, a . . ."
". . . And we can send down an away team to check these 
people out one on one, Sir," added Grissom, mercifully 
cutting Data short.  "They are humanoid?," she added, 
addressing Data directly.
"Affirmative, Lt. Commander," answered Data, still 
unaffected by the constant interruptions.
Riker, a determined look on his face, directed his gaze to 
the ceiling of the briefing room, "Bridge!," he called out, 
"What's our position, Ensign Crusher?"
"Bridge, here," said the voice of Ensign Crusher from a 
hidden speaker in the room.  "Approaching the third planet, 
Commander.  ETA five minutes."
Riker thought for a minute, then spoke, "Very well, let's 
see what we can learn about these people from up here. No 
away teams yet.  That's all for now people, see you all on 
the bridge in four hours.  I'll want a detailed report.  
Dismissed."
Data's mind was wandering again, he barely picked up the 
important parts of Riker's last statement, four hours, 
detailed report, dismissed.  Suddenly Data was aware that 
his thoughts were drifting, it was a very odd sensation, one 
that he could not remember ever experiencing before.  What 
had he just been thinking about?  Ah, yes, he thought, 
Grissom and her report, he must find out more about her.  
When he finally looked up, the room was already clearing.  
The meeting was breaking up and all were heading to their 
assigned duties.  LaForge was gesturing for Data to get 
going, and Grissom was already gone.
Data hurried to catch up with Grissom in the corridor, he 
easily passed by Geordie and overtook her.  He was obviously 
intrigued by the woman.  Geordie was left to follow at a 
distance.
"I did not intend to interrupt your report to Commander 
Riker, Lt. Commander Grissom," said Data.
"No problem, Lt. Commander," replied Grissom, a cool edge in 
her voice, "just don't let it happen again.  You may get all 
the visibility you'll ever need being third-in-command and 
on the bridge crew, but us lowly scientists trying to work 
our way up the ranks don't get many chances to impress the 
boss."
Data was now totally confounded.  What was this woman all 
about?  Data looked confused, more at himself than at her 
remark, all he could think to say in reply was, "Please, 
call me Data, Lt. Commander."
"And you call me Mr. Grissom, Sir.  Now if you'll excuse me, 
I have work to do on the bridge."  With that she turned into 
a side corridor and entered a turbolift.
Data stopped and watched her as she hurried away.  His 
enhanced android eyes tracking every motion of her body as 
she walked.  Then suddenly and without conscious thought he 
sighed softly.  Startled, Data reached for his chest and 
felt along his artificial breastbone and then lightly 
touched his lips as if to find out where this strange sound 
had come from.
Geordie LaForge stopped as he caught up with Data.  Looking 
him over Geordie could see that something was upsetting his 
friend.  Suddenly, he realized what it must be and a large 
smile grew on his face.  "It sure looks like you have a 
major case of the hots for her, Data!," he announced.
Data was startled by the comment, only half realizing that 
Geordie was now standing next to him, "Inquiry, `A major 
case of the hots', Geordi?"
LaForge laughed, "As in, you like her, maybe even more than 
you know, Data."
"Do you really think it possible, Geordie?"
"With you, my friend, anything is possible."  With that 
said, LaForge patted his friend sharply on the back and 
continued down the corridor leaving Data alone with his 
thoughts.




                      CHAPTER 3

Data found himself wandering the corridors.  His mind seemed 
to be having a debate with itself.  Half of his positronic 
brain was a mass of incoherent thoughts, while the second 
half cooly analyzed the first.
Data's rational side could not remember ever experiencing 
anything like it.  The only thing that came close was the 
sense of confusion he felt after the reading of Tasha Yar's 
living will, or perhaps it was more like some of the more 
pleasant times he had spent with Tasha.  Data could not 
decide.  One thing that he did know was that he needed to 
find out what was going on.
Where would a human being go if they were faced with such a 
problem, thought Data?  The answer was obvious, and he 
immediately headed off in the proper direction.  He soon 
found a nearby turbolift and entered it.  Once inside he 
uttered a single word, "Sickbay."
Dr. Kathrine Pulaski, Chief Medical Officer of the USS 
Enterprise, was sitting at her office desk, busy compiling 
the quarterly crew physical reports on her terminal.  She 
was not fond of paper work, but even less fond of an 
unhealthy crew.  Keeping over a thousand people healthy was 
quite a challenge.  Under Star Fleet regulations, the CMO 
was bound to conduct a physical exam of each crew and family 
member at least once a year.   Although the responsibility 
was hers, she, thankfully, did not have to perform all of 
them herself.  Pulaski had a staff of doctors and paramedics 
who could handle most of the actual exams, but she still 
insisted upon checking all the work herself while she 
prepared the formal report to Bev Crusher.  She knew that 
the crew health reports from Enterprise would get special 
attention from the Chief of Star Fleet Medical.
Pulaski was reading a report of a particularly bad case of 
misdiagnosis that was caught at the last minute by the 
automated systems, when the door buzzer sounded.  Without 
looking away from her work, she called out, "Come in."
The door in front of Lt. Commander Data opened and he 
stepped into the office of the Chief Medical Officer.  
Data's relationship with this new doctor had been less than 
cordial to begin with.  But, as time went on, they had come 
to an understanding, and while still not exactly friendly, 
they could function together without an argument ensuing 
every five minutes.
Pulaski looked up to see Data stepping into her office and 
immediately returned to the report on her screen, an annoyed 
look on her face.
"Doctor, I . . . " Data began, but before he could utter 
another word Pulaski had cut him off with her outstretched 
hand.  She was holding it up in his direction in order to 
silence him.  Data understood, and waited patiently for the 
Doctor to finish what she was doing.
Pulaski continued to read the report on her terminal for 
some time.  She was already furious about the mistake that 
one of her Doctors had committed, and now she would have to 
deal with Data.  She made a note on the report to reprimand 
the Doctor in question, a young intern, and then turned away 
from the screen to face her guest.  "Now, what is it you 
want, Data," she said at last.
Data answered quickly, as if he had just entered the room.  
In the same exact tone of voice he said, "Doctor, I have a 
question."
Pulaski's eyes rolled back in her head.  She was tired and 
was not up to one of Data's questions.  In a near exhausted 
tone of voice she said, "Yes, what is it?"
Data hesitated, then said, "Earlier, in  the corridor . . ., 
I . . . I . . ."

Pulaski perked up, her eyes wide with disbelief, "Yes, spit 
it out, Data," she said, "What's wrong, do you have a 
malfunction or something?  Voice track stuck?"
Data caught himself and steadied his voice, then replied, 
"No, Doctor, I am quite functional.  However," he said, "I 
did emit a sound with which I am not familiar.  It sounded 
like, Hhhaummmmmm!" Data sighed quite theatrically.
Pulaski had to turn away from Data as a large smile 
broadened across her face.  She had to fight to stop herself 
from laughing.   Taking a deep breath to steady herself she 
turned back to Data.  "Data," she began, a grin still on her 
face, "I'm not sure, but I think that was what we humans 
call a sigh."
"Query, a sigh?," Data asked somewhat confused.
If there was one thing Pulaski hated worse than one of 
Data's questions it was one of his queries.  Her hand 
immediately went to her forehead and cradled her head. This 
was going to be an interesting conversation, "Yes," she 
answered at last, "An involuntary sudden exhalation of 
breath sometimes caused by anxiety or some other strong 
emotion."  She wondered if this was another one of Data's 
attempts at human humor, but the look on his face was not 
one of amusement, "Now what were you doing sighing in the 
corridor?," she asked.
"I do not know why it happened," Data replied, "I was 
speaking with Lt. Commander Grissom, and as she walked away 
. . . I . . . I made that sound with the accompanying chest 
and shoulder movements."
Pulaski's expression went from exhaustion to surprise, "She 
left?," she blurted out, then in an almost inaudible tone 
she added to herself, "Well what do you know the machine is 
in love with a real woman!"  She caught herself as she 
looked up and saw Data had heard, she quickly recovered, 
"Tell me, Data, what is she like?"
"Lt. Commander Grissom is a scientist of some reputation, 
Doctor.  She has been published in all the major journals in 
her field and has several publications in areas outside of 
her specialty.  She is the foremost authority on primitive 
space faring cultures, those in their early space programs, 
limited to their own solar system.  She is quite an 
extraordinary officer."
Pulaski was now genuinely interested, could Data actually be 
exhibiting an emotional response, "Yes, but what is she 
like?," she asked, then continued, "You've just given me her 
resume, but what did she do or say to you to make you sigh?"
Data paused, rerunning the conversation in the corridor in 
his mind, then answered, "She told me not to interrupt her 
reports to the Boss.  This does not seem to be a 
satisfactory answer, however.  I do not know why I sighed, 
Doctor,  it simply . . . occurred."
"And then you came to me?"
"You are a Doctor and I wanted your opinion of my physical 
reaction."
Pulaski couldn't resist the obvious set up, "But I'm a human 
doctor, not a mechanic," she said, a large smile on her 
face.  Immediately she felt ashamed, she was not being fair. 
Data, while not human, could be a surprisingly humane 
individual, she had grown to respect him as such.  "I'm 
sorry, Data," she said to him, now more serious, "But I 
don't think I can help you, so if you don't mind, I do need 
to get back to my reports."  A thought occurred to her and 
she added, "Perhaps you should speak with Counselor Troi 
about this."
Data could see that the Doctor was losing interest, "Yes, of 
course, Doctor.  Thank you for your time," he replied.  Data 
nodded his good-bye and turned to leave.  As the door closed 
behind him, Pulaski was left shaking her head in disbelief. 
It was some time before she turned back to the task at hand.

Deanna Troi was sitting at her desk, a pensive look on her 
face.  Data sat facing her, a blank expression on his own 
countenance.  They were in the middle of a conversation.
"Counselor, do I look odd to you?," Data asked.
"What do you mean, Data?," replied Troi.
"Do I appear. . .hot?  Geordie, that is, Lt. LaForge, 
commented that I may have the hots for Lt. Commander 
Grissom."
Troi, who was already having problems taking Data's problem 
seriously, could not help breaking out in a large smile.  
"No, Data," she replied, then trying desperately not to 
laugh, she continued,  "Having the hots, as you put it, has 
nothing to do with body temperature.  It simply means that 
you may be becoming. . .fond of Grissom.  Tell me, how do 
you feel?"  The question was strange to Troi, how could one 
be asking an android how it feels, they weren't supposed to 
have feelings at all.
Data paused to think,  it seemed to Troi that he may have 
been running a system diagnostic test.  Finally Data spoke, 
"Uncertain.  I can sense that something is different, but I 
cannot ascertain what it is.  Are you sensing anything from 
me, Counselor?"
Troi was not usually able to read anything from the android 
officer, but now, she wasn't quite sure, "You are 
particularly hard to read, Data, being an android.  I do get 
impressions of respect, admiration, perhaps even a sense of 
longing.  That is different for you.  Can you describe what 
it is that you are feeling?"
Again Data paused before he spoke, "Feelings are not even 
something I can consciously remember being programmed for, 
however, they do seem to surface on odd occasions.  I do 
respect Lt. Commander Grissom's accomplishments.  Although, 
I also. . .feel that I need to be with her, at her side.  I 
act strangely around her, even for me."
"Yes, the sigh."
"Even more," continued Data, "I tend to speak without 
thinking about what I am about to say, and I say peculiar 
things."
"A human trait, Data?"
Data smiled briefly for the first time since the sighing 
incident, "Yes, yes it is!"  He paused to think again, as if 
he needed the extra time, "But, what do I do now, 
Counselor?"
Now it was Troi's turn to think.  She knew what advice she 
would give to a human crewmen, but with Data she was unsure.  
She finally decided to try anyway.  "Be with her.  Spend 
time. Talk to her. Take it slow, Data.  This is no doubt a 
strange situation for her as well.  Give it time."
Data agreed, "Yes, I will do that, Counselor.  I seem to be 
more in control now, thank you."  Data stood up, "I must be 
getting back to my duties on the bridge now."
Troi smiled warmly as Data turned to leave her office.  
Although she was still confused by the recent events in his 
life, she was happy for Data's new found humanity and love.

Data entered the bridge with some feelings of anxiety, he 
knew that she would be there.  As he stepped off the 
turbolift he saw Grissom was working at the Science 1 
station on the upper portion of the bridge.  He decided not 
to waste any time.
"Well, it's about time you showed up, Commander," Grissom 
said in a playful tone as Data approached her.  The android 
equivalent of Data's heart sank.  "Listen," she continued, 
"I want to apologize for my tone after the briefing, I was 
out of line."
Data was suddenly filled with new hope, "There is nothing to 
apologize for.  We are of equal rank, and you are entitled 
to your opinions.  I am the one who should be sorry,  my 
absence from the bridge is inexcusable."
"Well, no sense worrying about spilt milk," she said. Data 
nonchalantly glanced at the deck below him to check for any 
bovine discharge.  "I have been going over these 
communications from Home.  There are hundreds of military 
and commercial messages to choose from, I'm about exhausted, 
perhaps you'd like to review some of them?"
Data stepped up to the neighboring Science 2 station and 
touched a contact, "Computer, this is Lt. Commander Data," 
he said, "Request display of translations for all Homesian 
transmissions recorded to date. Execute."
"All of them!," Grissom exclaimed, but Data did not hear, he 
was too busy reading.
"Increase," Data said aloud to the computer, asking it to 
display the information more quickly.  The display began to 
pour out pages of information at an incredible pace.  
"Increase," Data said again.  Grissom stood back and watched 
in awe as Data read the entire record in a matter of 
minutes.  "Intriguing," Data said when he had completed the 
material.
"That was incredible, you do have some amazing capabilities, 
Commander.", Grissom said, as she almost smiled at Data.

Two hours later, Data was back at the OPS station, awaiting 
the arrival of Commander Riker.  The bridge crew were all at 
their positions and Grissom was still at work at Science 1. 
There were exactly thirty seconds to the end of Riker's four 
hour time period, he should be arriving on the bridge at any 
moment.
According to Data's internal clock, Riker arrived precisely 
on time, stepping onto the bridge from the turbolift just as 
the four hours expired. "Status," he said to no one in 
particular as he walked across the bridge to stand in front 
of the command chair.
Wesley Crusher was the first to respond, "Holding maximum 
apogee standard orbit about the planet Home, Commander."
Riker smiled approvingly at the young Acting Ensign, the boy 
was maturing into a fine young officer.  Riker turned as he 
heard Data add, "Cloaking device engaged and operational, we 
will not be observed, Sir."
"Reading a number of objects in orbit above the planet, Sir.  
Ranging in size from a bolt up to a large space habitat," 
Grissom added, still monitoring the sensors at Science 1.
Riker was pleased, his people were top notch professionals, 
he listened as Grissom continued, "I also scan small bases 
on each of the moons, they look as if they were once 
inhabited, but they aren't anymore, at least not now.  A 
number of lifeforms are on board the large space station, 
perhaps as many as a thousand."  She paused and turned to 
face the lower bridge, then added, "And Sir, they have a 
Star Wars system."
"A what?," exclaimed Riker.  He was beginning to get a 
little annoyed at all the technical terms being thrown 
around by this scientist.
After staring down Data, who was about to speak, Grissom 
quickly explained,  "Star Wars, Sir, was the popular name of 
the Strategic Defense Initiative or SDI, it was . . ."
". . . a defensive shield developed on Earth by the then 
United States just prior to the beginning of the Eugenics 
Wars.  I know what SDI is, Commander, I do know something 
about ancient Earth history, especially U.S. Military 
History," finished Riker.
"Yes, Sir, so do I.  Their system is not as elaborate as 
ours was, but it does include the traditional satellite 
types: surveillance, acquisition, projectile weapons, and 
beam weapons.  No way to tell how effective they would be 
against an actual attack without evaluating their C-cubed -- 
their Command, Communications and Control software -- and 
their form of battle management.  It also looks like two 
planetary factions have at least a partial system in place."
"The military and non-military communications do suggest a 
high level of tension exists between the two factions," Data 
added, after he was sure Grissom had completed her portion 
of the report, "But no word about us.  Of course, they could 
be using some method of secure transmission. . ."
". . .or maybe they have already talked about it and now 
it's old news.  There is still no way to tell if we caused 
the current situation or whether it existed before we 
arrived," Grissom added.
Riker's reply was amazingly calm, "So here we are, orbiting 
an armed camp on the brink of planetary war and we may have 
caused it."
Grissom looked down at her feet and in an 
uncharacteristically  soft voice answered Riker, "Yes, Sir."
Riker moved over to the center seat and sat down, an angry 
yet determined look on his face.  He stroked his beard with 
his right hand, "Thank you, you've all done a fine job," was 
all he could say.


                       CHAPTER 4

[Note:  Most of the remainder of the story 
line will be in the form of a teleplay (i.e., dialog and 
stage direction), the original form of my work.]

Scene opens on the bridge, much as it was before.  Data is 
now working with Grissom at Science 2.  A Red shirt persons 
the OPS console, he is a young Hispanic Ensign with dark 
hair, a bushy black moustache and dark close cut hair. He 
also has a tropical complexion.


                     Riker (VO)
Ship's Log, Stardate 42581.6.  We have been in 
orbit around the planet Home for over six hours.  
All attempts to determine the origin of the 
current crisis on the planet have failed.  We have 
also been unable to determine whether the pictures 
of our vessel have aggravated the situation or 
even caused it.

Riker stands and faces the sciences stations where Grissom 
and Data are working. He then slowly walks up to the upper 
portion of the bridge.


                       Riker
Anything new, Commanders?


Grissom
Nothing significant, Sir.


Data
We have, however, located one of their main planet 
based space command center, Sir.  It is run by 
what they call their Space Force.


Grissom
Commander, if the pictures are anywhere, they 
should be at that location.  They also would know 
all about the current crisis there.  We can beam 
down, and...


Riker
...And what, Mr. Grissom?  Contaminate them more?


Grissom
No Sir, we could get in, erase their images of us, 
get the information we need and get out.  Purely 
an intelligence gathering mission.


Riker
You don't sound like a scientist, Grissom.  Just 
who are you?


Data
Lt. Commander Grissom is fully trained in 
Security, Helm and OPS control, Sir.  Besides 
being a top historian and xeno-anthropologist.

Grissom smiled despite herself at the compliments from Data. 
Then turns to face Riker again, all business.


Grissom
(Cool and professional)
Data is correct, Sir.  I have been trained and 
certified in many areas.  May I have your 
permission to form an away team?

Data almost smiles again when he realizes Grissom has, for 
the first time, used his name without any titles or ranks 
attached.


Riker
I'll form the team, Commander.  
(Pause)
Alright, it seems there is not much else we can 
learn from up here, so we'll have to go down 
there.  Let's keep it small, less chance of us 
totally blowing the Prime Directive that way.  The 
team will consist of myself and...

As Riker points to himself, Data and LaForge stand at their 
consoles.  Camera shot widens to show that Troi has also 
stood and is now eyeing the scene at the rear of the bridge. 
LaForge breaks into Riker's speech.




LaForge
(Shocked)
Sir! 
(In a formal military voice)
I respectfully remind the Commander that he is no 
longer just the first officer. You are now ranking 
officer on board.  As acting third-in-command, I 
can't approve of your leading an away team at this 
time. Sir!


Data
Nor can I, Sir.  Your duty is here on the 
Enterprise.


Troi
I agree, Commander.  This mission is potentially 
too dangerous to risk the senior officer.


Grissom
But, I have to go, Sir, I'm the expert on this 
type of culture...


Riker
(Agitated)
At ease, all of you!

After a pause, Riker walks down to the center seat, the 
CAMERA FOLLOWS.  RIKER faces the rear of the bridge,  
everyone watches him as he speaks.




Riker (Cont'd)
(Calmly)
Grissom is right.  She has to go.  Data you'll 
lead the team.  I'll remain here on the ship.
(Under his breath)
I guess I'll have to live by my own rules.

Riker takes the center seat.  Grissom walks over to center 
bridge to confront Riker.


Grissom
(Upset)
But, Sir! No disrespect intended, Sir, but Data 
just will not do!  He's all wrong, he's...he's...

Riker
(Angry)
...He's what, Mr. Grissom?  Data is third-in-
command on this vessel, Mister, and you will treat 
him as such.  He is also acting first officer on 
this mission and rightfully should be in charge of 
all away team activities.  What's your problem, 
Grissom?


Grissom
Sir, the planet's inhabitants have a NORMAL 
humanoid appearance.  Something that Mr. Data, no 
matter what his rank and position, does not have.
Riker stands and turns to look at Data, still standing by 
Science 2.  Smiling he turns back to Grissom.


Riker
(Amused)
Quite right, Commander.  However, I think ship's 
stores can provide us with a fix for that!  You 
and Data get ready for the mission, let me handle 
the rest.

Riker exits to the Ready Room.  Data and Grissom exchange a 
puzzled glance, then turn back to their stations at the 
SCIENCES consoles.

"What do you have in mind for this Away Mission, Commander," 
Data asked Grissom.
"Well, it seems to me that if we have to get inside a 
military facility, we had better look Military."
"Agreed."
Geordie LaForge walked the few steps over from his console 
to where the two Lt. Commanders were standing, "I think I 
can help you with that!"

Cut to scene of Riker walking through a corridor heading to 
transporter room, some time later.  Several crew people are 
seen also walking the corridors in the background.




Riker (VO)
Ship's Log, Supplemental.  Lt. Commanders Data and 
Grissom have been outfitted as high ranking Space 
Force officers of the planet Home.  They will form 
an away team and infiltrate the space command 
center on that planet in hopes of recovering any 
images of our vessel.  They also will be trying to 
figure out the current planetary crisis and its 
origins.

Riker REACHES THE DOOR to the TRANSPORTER ROOM and ENTERS.  
The DOOR CLOSES behind him.
REVERSE ANGLE OF RIKER as he enters the transporter room.  
He smiles at the sight of Grissom and Data in Space Force 
uniform.  Data's complexion is more human looking, yet still 
a bit sallow.  He is also wearing blue contact lens.  The 
uniforms are steel blue and look very much like shark skin 
suits.  In other respects they resemble a modern U.S. Air 
Force Class A uniform.  Data shows the rank of Lt. Colonel, 
while Grissom is wearing a rank of Major.  Grissom has her 
long hair done up in a severe military bun.  Both have some 
sort of ribbons and medals as well, resembling modern day 
military awards. Riker faces them as they stand up-stage of 
the transporter console.  The transporter chief O'Brien, a 
young blond Australian in Security Gold uniform, is working 
at the controls.




Riker
Well, Data, it seems that make-up will work out 
just fine.  What do you think, Grissom?


Grissom
Yes, Sir.  It should work.


Data
Yes, although the contact lens do impair some of 
my visual sensors.
(Pause, reflecting.)
Our subcutaneous communicator and universal 
translators are in place, Sir.  We have outfitted 
ourselves as members of their Intelligence group.  
Lt. LaForge was even able to give us authentic 
identification and has added our assumed names to 
their computer databanks.


Grissom
If they check us out, we'll show up in their 
computers as legitimate.


Riker
Good work, you two.  Just remember, get in, get 
what we need and get out.  We don't know when or 
if the situation down their will explode, 
literally.  Good Luck.

Nodding, Data and Grissom take their positions on the 
transporter platform as the CAMERA FOLLOWS.


Riker
Energize!

Transporter chief works the console and Data and Grissom de-
materialize.  

Cut to a ROOF SHOT of the planet's surface.  Shot of a clean 
looking modern plant that extends beyond the camera's view.  
It should look somewhat like a 1980's Earth military post or 
Aerospace contractor plant.  Center shot Data and Grissom 
materialize between two trees near a low building.  Cut to a 
MEDIUM SHOT of the two just as they fully appear.  Data and 
Grissom survey the area to make sure they were not observed.


Data
It would seem we were not observed.


Grissom
Yes, Sir. 
(Pause)
Listen, Data, I'm sorry about the fuss I made up 
their about your appearance. I was only doing my 
job.  Down here you may be the boss, but you may 
have to follow my lead if we get into trouble, I'm 
the expert here.


Data
Agreed, Lt. Commander.


Grissom
Major, Colonel, I'm a Major.


Data
Yes, of course, Major.


Grissom
OK, the main building is that way.  We're agreed 
that we should try to obtain information under the 
pretense of investigating recent UFO activity, and 
that's where we'll start.


Data
Affirmative. 
(Changing his accent to a 
caricature of a tough military 
man)
Now, move out, Major!


Grissom
(Smiling)
Yes, Sir, Colonel!

CAMERA PANS to follow Grissom and Data as they move out from 
under the cover of the trees and cross a small square to 
reach another building.  The sentry on duty out front seeing 
their rank insignia salutes as they enter. The SENTRY is 
wearing what looks to be a modern day enlisted man's 
fatigues and is a private.  The two do not return the 
salute, but Data is fascinated by the gesture, looking the 
soldier up and down until Grissom drags him to the front 
door.  
Cut to the building lobby, sitting behind a large front desk 
enclosure lined with TV screens is a tough looking Space 
Force Sergeant.  He is wearing what looks to be a modern day 
Air Force uniform consisting of a light blue short sleeved 
shirt and darker blue slacks.  He is wearing the rank of 
sergeant in the Air Police.  The Sergeant is startled to his 
feet by the sight of Data and Grissom.  He salutes them as 
they step up to the desk.


Sergeant
(At attention)
Sirs!  I wasn't informed of any visitors from 
Intelligence today, Sirs.


Grissom
Since when do we have to announce ourselves to 
you, Sergeant?


Data
We need to see the Duty Officer, right away!

Sergeant
(Nervously)
Ahhh, yes, Sir, and umm, Mam!  Captain Bovmann is 
in the situation room.  Take the last elevator 
down, all the way down.  I'm assuming you have 
high enough clearance for access to the room?


Data
Quite high, Sergeant, quite high enough indeed!


Sergeant
Yes, Sir.

Data and Grissom head for the elevators, which are off 
screen.  Camera remains on the Sergeant as he watches them 
turn the corner.  He then reaches for his phone and punches 
in some numbers.


Sergeant
(Into the phone)
Yeah, Williams, this is the north lobby... yeah, 
tell the D.O. he's got some brass headed his way.
(Pause, listening)
Yeah, a Light Colonel and a woman Major, 
Intelligence...

Cut to view of Data and Grissom in the elevator area.  Data 
finds the last elevator and approaches it.  He narrowly 
avoids smashing his nose into the doors before he realizes 
that it won't open for him.  Puzzled, he looks to Grissom.  
Grissom looks around the area, locates the down button and 
punches it.  The elevator doors in front of Data open.  DATA 
enters with Grissom right behind.  The ELEVATOR DOOR CLOSES.
MEDIUM SHOT of DATA and GRISSOM in a normal looking, well 
kept elevator. We get the impression from VISUAL or SOUND 
CUES that they are going down a LONG WAY.  DATA TURNS to 
GRISSOM and speaks.  


Data
Perhaps we should try to contact the ship before 
we proceed any farther.  We may not be able to 
contact them from the situation room.


Grissom
Agreed.  Let's check in and report.

Data reaches his right hand up and touches a spot just 
behind his right ear, we hear the familiar sound of the 
insignia communicator.


Data
Data to Enterprise. Come in, Commander Riker.

Cut to scene on the bridge.  Riker is standing as if he got 
up from the center seat when he heard Data's voice. He looks 
up at the ceiling.


Riker
Riker, here.  What's your situation, Data?


Data (On Speakers)
We have successfully infiltrated the main building 
and are on our way to the situation room to meet 
with the ranking officer on duty.  We may lose 
communications at that time, since the room is 
located underground and may be electronically 
shielded.


Riker
Very well.  Try to check in with us every two 
hours.  If we don't hear from you, we'll lock onto 
your transponders and beam you out of there.


Grissom (On Speakers)
No, Sir.  You won't know where we are.  They must 
not observe our technology.  Please wait until you 
hear from us before attempting to beam us up.


Riker
Very well, but let's not push our luck.  In and 
out, remember?


Grissom (ON SPEAKER)
Yes, Sir, Away team out.

CAMERA SHOWS elevator doors open on a shot of Data and 
Grissom.  CAMERA PANS to show a short hallway.  A man in 
Captain's uniform awaits them at the entrance to the 
situation room.  An electronic card reader is located to the 
right of the door.  The Captain is at the left.  He is a 
white man in his mid-thirties in short sleeve uniform. He is 
about 5 feet 8 inches tall and slim but not skinny. He wears 
a name tag that reads "BOVMANN" over his LEFT BREAST POCKET. 
He speaks in a low tone, obviously worried, but not about 
the two new arrivals.


Bovmann
Welcome to Space Command, I'm Captain Bovmann, day 
shift duty officer.  How can I help you, Sirs?


Data
We wish to speak with you, Captain, regarding a 
rather sensitive matter.  Perhaps we could go to 
your office?


Bovmann
(Suspicious)
Very well, Sir.  I have a small cubby hole off the 
main room in there.

Bovmann makes a point of tapping all his pockets in an 
obvious manner to indicate he was searching for something.  
He doesn't find it.


Bovmann
(Feigned Annoyance)
Damn!  I must have dropped my ID inside!  You two 
are cleared for in there, yours will open it.  
Would either of you mind?


Grissom
(Aside to Data)
He's deliberately testing us, Data. He's doesn't 
seem too happy having us here, must be the crisis 
situation.  Let's hope Lt. LaForge's IDs are as 
good as he thinks they are!


Data
(To Bovmann)
Very well, Captain, but you had better place 
yourself on report.  Losing ones ID is a serious 
breech of security, especially at a time like 
this.

Bovmann stiffens and comes to attention, saluting Data, 
obviously distressed that his ploy has backfired on him.  
Grissom smiles at Data as he removes his ID from his right 
breast pocket and slides it's magnetic strip through the 
card reader at the right of the door.  A MALE metallic voice 
rings out.


Metallic Voice (OS)
Identification verified.  Lt. Colonel D. Anderson, 
Space Force, Intelligence branch.

The door opens.  Data nods at Grissom and Bovmann.  Bovmann 
holds the door open for Data and Grissom then enters 
himself. The DOOR CLOSES behind him.
Cut to a MEDIUM shot of the situation room.  CAMERA PANS 
around showing us the area.  It looks something like the War 
room from "War Games," but perhaps not as large.  Camera 
shows reverse angle of Data, Grissom and Bovmann entering 
the room.  Data is shown in close-up scanning the room with 
particular attention to the situation map displays.  A 
lighted display shows "Alert Status" as 3 on a scale from 5 
to 1.  A number of people can be seen working at various 
consoles throughout the room.  The group continues to walk 
down the hallway which looks down on the SITUATION ROOM 
area.


Data
I see we are at alert status 3.

Bovmann
Yes, Sir, for the last few hours or so.  The Lucs 
been acting up lately, it's been a real bear.

Bovmann shows the Enterprise duo into a sound proof glass 
enclosed office just off the situation room.  They enter and 
close the TRANSPARENT DOOR behind them.

The room is cluttered, but everything has its place. We SEE 
BOOKS, MAGAZINES, and PRINTOUTS on BOOK SHELVES.  A large 
DESK which faces two small chairs that have there backs to a 
curtained off portion of the transparent wall that separates 
the office from the hallway to the SITUATION ROOM.  Bovmann 
takes the seat behind his desk and offers the other two 
chairs in the room to Data and Grissom.  They sit facing 
him.


Bovmann
As you can see, we're damn busy here right now. 
So, what can I do for you, Sirs.


Grissom
Colonel Anderson and I are here to investigate 
reports of a UFO sighted by one of our probes in 
the outer system.  With all this trouble with the 
Lucs, we've been ordered to see if maybe they were 
the cause.


Bovmann
Look, ahh, Major Grissom, is it?


Grissom
Yes.


Bovmann
I ain't heard nothing about no flying saucers.  If 
the information is here, then I haven't seen it.  
'Been a little too busy to worry about little 
green men.


Data
I see.  In that case we would like to check your 
planetary probe records ourselves.


Grissom
Yes.  Headquarters needs more information quickly, 
so if you would be so kind as to show us to the 
records room we'll begin.


Bovmann
I'll have to arrange it.  Let me go find someone 
to take you.  I really can't leave the situation 
room for long while I'm on duty.


Data
Thank you, Captain Bovmann.
Bovmann stands and exits the room, CLOSING the DOOR behind 
him.


Grissom
That was too easy, I don't like it.  He's going to 
check us out.


Data
Perhaps, but since our ID cards were recognized by 
their system at the door, they should find our 
planted records in their computers, Major.


Grissom
I know, but still, I don't like it, he's keeping 
something from us.

Back in the situation room Bovmann motions to a young man.  
The YOUNG MAN WALKS closer to Bovmann and the Camera pans to 
and closes on Bovmann's and the young man's faces.  The 
young man is named Williams and he is a Corporal.  He is 
blond with no facial hair and a short hair cut, around 25 
years old, he looks even younger.  Williams wares a uniform 
much like that of Bovmann, but with appropriate rank 
insignia.  Williams stands about 6 feet tall.


Bovmann
Williams, I want you to check out these two 
Intelligence officers, and not through the 
computers.  Call H.Q., I want a flesh and blood 
person to vouch for them.  Something's up with 
these two, they didn't even know we were at Alert 
Status  3, hell we've been at 3 for days now.  
Then get yourself over to the records room and get 
me everything we have in the last few days on 
USVs.

Williams nods his acknowledgement and goes off at a half run 
to a console in the background and lifts a phone hand set to 
his head.  Camera zooms onto Bovmann's menacing face and 
we... Fade Out.




			CHAPTER 5

Data and Grissom are STANDING over Bovmann's desk looking at 
what appear to be plans to the building.

			Data (VO)
Away Team Log, Stardate 43720.51. Lt. Commander Data 
recording.  It has been one hour and 15 minutes since we 
have checked in with the Enterprise.  Captain Bovmann has 
not returned with his pro-offered guide.  We must assume 
that he will not return until he discovers who and what we 
are.  We have located the records room and will now attempt 
to obtain the records we need on our own before we are found 
out.

			Data
At least we know that our presence did not cause the current 
crisis.  Captain Bovmann has not even seen the pictures.  It 
is safe to assume that someone saw them, but did not pay 
much attention to them because of the current alert.

			Grissom
I don't think we can assume that.  Bovmann may be lying to 
us about allot of things.  What I want to know is are they 
at status 3 going up or down the scale?

			Data
Yes, are they two steps away from peace or two steps away 
from war?

			Grissom
In either case we still need to get rid of their evidence of 
us.  We need to get to that records room. We'll need some 
kind of diversion . . .

Bovmann suddenly enters the room with Williams right behind 
him.  Williams is now armed with a rifle and Bovmann is 
wearing a conspicuous side arm holster.  He also carries a 
thick folder of papers.

			Bovmann
Please, Colonel, Major, sit down.

Bovmann motions them to the seats they held earlier. DATA 
and grissom sit.  Bovmann sits also, again behind his desk, 
placing the folder in front of him.

			Grissom
What is the meaning of this, Captain, and why have we been 
kept waiting so long?

			Bovmann
(To Grissom)
Oh, I've got what you want right here, I think.


(To Williams)
Williams, wait right outside that door facing in.  If you 
see either of these to move towards me, please come in here 
and shoot them.

Williams nods and takes up his position as ordered. He can 
be seen standing facing inward on the other side of the 
TRANSPARENT DOOR.  Bovmann opens the folder in front of him.

			Bovmann
He can't hear us now, and he can't see these pretty pictures 
either.  They're not great but they clearly show a large 
saucer shaped object out by Septiem, that's our seventh 
planet in case you didn't know.  Now, do you want to talk?

			Data
Excellent work, Captain.  That is precisely the file we 
need.  Now if you'll just hand it over we will be on our way 
. . .

			Bovmann
Not so fast.  You two didn't check out.  You're in our 
computers, but no one at H.Q., or any other place we called, 
knows either one of you.
(Pause)
Now, the way I figure it, you're either Lucs or L.G.M.s, 
maybe even from this here ship.




			Grissom
We're Intelligence, Bovmann, no one's supposed to know us!

			Bovmann
Yeah, a likely . . .
The phone on the Captain's desk suddenly rings.  He picks it 
up after the first ring.

			Bovmann
(Into the phone.)
Yeah, D.O.'s desk, Bovmann speaking. 
(Pause. Then Angry.)
They've upped the status to what!
(Short Pause)
Damn! I'll be right out!  Make sure the C.O. is on his way.

Bovmann HANGS UP the phone and closes the file on his desk 
and MOVES QUICKLY to the door.  He opens it and Williams is 
there.  Other soldiers can be seen running past in the 
background.  The soldiers are Marine types in fatigues and 
wearing combat helmets.

			Williams
(To Bovmann)
Is it true, Sir, d'they change to status 1?



Bovmann
(Angry)
Quiet you idiot! 
(After a short pause, more calmly).
Yes, they did, now get in here and watch these two . . . 
whatever they are, closely!  I've got to get back into this 
mess out here. God, I hope someone didn't do something 
stupid!

Bovmann pushes past Williams as they change places.  
Williams WALKS into the office looking worried.  He has his 
rifle pointed at the seated Enterprise duo.  He takes up 
position standing by the side of Bovmann's desk, his rifle 
just out of reach of Data.

			Grissom
(Aside to Data)
Well I guess this answers our first question, its War!

Riker sat in the center seat of the enterprise bridge 
rubbing his beard and looking worried.  Crusher at helm, 
some red shirt is at OPS.  LaForge is at the Engineering 
station.  Troi is at Riker's side at her station.  The 
security station is also manned by the same gold shirted 
Security Officer as before.  CAMERA PANS around the bridge 
and settles on a MEDIUM SHOT of LAFORGE at his station.

			LaForge
Commander, I am tracking a cylindrical object on an 
intercept course with the alien space station.  Sir, it's a 
nuclear missile!

RIKER STANDS and looks back at LaForge.  CAMERA REVERSES 
ANGLE to show RIKER as he looks down towards TROI.  He 
speaks in Troi's general direction, but the words are not 
just meant for her.

			Riker
(Excited)
Good Lord, it's started and our people are right in the 
middle of it!
(To Crusher, more calm)
Any word from Data or Grissom since they last checked in? 

			Crusher
No, Sir! You would have been notified, Commander.

			Riker
Damn!

Riker turns to the Security Officer at his station.



			Riker
(To Security Officer)
Lt. activate phaser banks, arm photon torpedoes!
Troi and LaForge STAND at once.

			Troi
(To Riker)
Commander, you can't, the Prime Directive!

			Riker
(Angry)
I can't just stand here and let these people destroy 
themselves, when I have the power to stop it!   What about 
Data and Grissom, they're down there!

Riker points to the image of GS III on the main viewscreen.

			Troi
We can't do it, Will. In almost every case when Federation 
personnel thought it was right to break the Prime Directive, 
they've been wrong.  They've made mistakes.  Are we more 
competent than all the rest of the Federation, are we better 
than all who have come before us?



			LaForge
(To Riker)
And Sir, we'd have to become visible to fire our weapons, no 
telling what effect that might have.  They might start 
shooting at us!

Riker looked pained.  He gestureS to the security officer to 
carry out his last order.  The officer's hands fly over the 
console and he nods when completed.  LaForge resumes his 
seat at the Engineering console.

			LaForge
(Looking at his console)
Commander, now reading a beam weapon platform coming to bare 
on the missile.  They may be able to solve their own 
problems.
(Pause)
Firing . . . a hit!
(Turning to Riker)
They did it, Sir!

RIKER LOOKS somewhat RELIVED as he RESUMES HIS SEAT.

			Riker
(Thinking Aloud)
Yeah, for now, but that was just the first shot!

After a moment Riker turned suddenly to LaForge, "Geordie, I 
need some options!  You, Troi and Mr. Crusher, in the 
briefing room please."  Riker led the small contingent to 
the room just off the bridge.  Once inside they arranged 
themselves around the small curved table, Riker sat at the 
head in the seat usually reserved for Captain Picard.

"I need some answers, people, how are we going to prevent 
these beings from blowing themselves away without violating 
the Prime Directive?" Riker asked.

"Our weapons can stop them alright, Sir, but without 
violating the Directive, I just don't know," replied 
LaForge.

Wesley Crusher, seated opposite LaForge, spoke next, "What 
if we didn't use our weapons, Sir?" 

"Explain, Wesley," replied Riker.

"Well, what if we used our computer to break into their 
Command and Control network and aim their weapons with our 
sensors?  The main problem with early space based defense 
systems was their lack of good acquisition and 
discrimination sensors and the complexities of battle 
management software.  Our sensors and computers are far 
superior to anything these people have, we could direct 
their defenses from here and then back out of the system 
without them ever knowing what happened.  They'll assume 
that their systems just worked as designed."

Riker surveyed the other two participants, "Any objections, 
comments?"

"Yeah," answered LaForge, "the theory is nice, but what if 
they do detect the intrusion?  That could trigger a war.  We 
could cause something to happen that wouldn't have if we 
hadn't interfered.  Even if we did succeed in breaking in, 
we have no knowledge of there weapon capacity.  There may 
not be enough firepower in orbit to take out all the 
missiles."

"And even if we did succeed," added Troi, "what gives us the 
right to intervene here.  The Prime Directive expressly 
forbids us from interfering with the internal policies of an 
independent planet, even if they are self-destructive."

"But they'd never know," protested Crusher.

"We would know, and so would Star Fleet, Wes," replied 
Riker.  "It's no good, to many risks involved.  Any other 
suggestions?"

The three crew members looked from one to another and each 
averted their eyes from Riker.  There were no options.  Troi 
was right, the Prime Directive left no room for compromise 
in this situation.  After several tense minutes of silence 
Wesley spoke up again, "We're proceeding on the assumption 
that we haven't yet broken the Prime Directive, but we don't 
know that.  Isn't that what we're here to find out, 
Commander?  Wouldn't that change everything?"

"No, Wes.  It doesn't change anything, except maybe get us 
all court-martialed on top of letting a whole planet die."
"But, Commander, if we're going to fry anyway, why not take 
the chance and try to not take these people with us," 
offered LaForge.

Troi was shocked, "Geordie, if we stop them today that 
doesn't guarantee that they won't start another war next 
week, or the week after.  In fact, if they think their 
systems work perfectly, they might start shooting missiles 
at each other every day."

"Or, they may dismantle all the missiles because they're 
obsolete!"

Riker held up his hand to stop the debate, "The fact remains 
that we don't know what effect we've had here yet.  We must 
establish contact with the away team and find out.  In the 
meantime, you and Wesley work on hacking into their 
computers and standby.  If they start something big, maybe 
we can finish it."

Data and Grissom were still seated in Bovmann's office. 
Williams has backed off a bit but is still leveling the 
rifle at them.  CAMERA ZOOMS to a closer shot of GRISSOM and 
DATA as Grissom gives Data a signal that she is going to try 
something on Williams by MOVING HER EYES from DATA to 
WILLIAMS.  DATA SMILES back at her.



			Grissom
(To Williams)
Very good, very good indeed, Williams.  You'll make a fine 
officer!

			Williams
(Confused)
Excuse me, Mamm?

			Grissom
This has all been a drill, Williams!  We're not really at 
war, and Bovmann knows exactly who we are!  You've passed 
the test.  Bovmann should be back anytime now . . .

Grissom looks out of the transparent door over Data's 
shoulder.  Williams momentarily waivers and takes a quick 
peek himself, slightly lowering his rifle towards Data in 
the process.  Data seizes the opportunity, grabbing the 
rifle by the barrel and bending it backwards towards 
Williams.  Williams is scared speechless by Data's strength 
and is quickly subdued by a karate chop to the neck 
delivered by Grissom.  WILLIAMS FALLS to the FLOOR.

			Grissom
(To Data. Exhilarated)
I was hoping you'd catch on and follow my lead!  What a team 
we are!



			Data
Yes, but you might have gotten yourself killed, Commander.

			Grissom
(Teasing)
Why, Mr. Data, I didn't know you cared!

Data is caught off guard by the remark and is surprised by 
his own answer.

			Data
(Confused)
Yes, I suppose I do.
(Normal Tone)
We had better hurry, Commander.

Grissom momentarily regards Data and gives him a questioning 
look.  She then quickly recovers and becomes her old 
businesslike self.

			Grissom
We have to make sure everything is here first, we may still 
have to go to the records room.

Grissom MOVES to BOVMANN'S DESK and looks hurriedly through 
the file Bovmann left behind.  Data keeps WATCH by the DOOR.

MEDIUM SHOT from the rear of the bridge towards the main 
screen.  Riker has taken the center seat again.  The screen 
shows a beautiful blue and white cloud decked world, much 
like Earth from space, except that the visible land masses 
are shaped differently.

Pan to Engineering station and zoom on LaForge as he is 
reading from a panel.

			LaForge
(Stage Whisper)
Here we go again!
(Pause. Then Aloud to Riker)
Reading multiple launches from the Eastern hemisphere of the 
planet, Commander.  This looks like the real thing.

Camera zooms out to encompass Riker and Security console.  
Riker gets to his feet and turns to face LaForge over the 
Security Console.

			Security Lt.
(To Riker)
Still no word from the away team, Sir!

Riker looks from LaForge to Troi as he speaks to the 
security officer.



			Riker
Damn, we have to know what's behind all this, try again, Lt.  
If we don't know then there's nothing we can do, we can't 
interfere!

Security Lt. nods and works some controls on his console.  
Riker turns back to the helm and in a somewhat stronger 
voice says . . .

			Riker
Ensign Crusher, prepare to take control of orbiting defense 
systems on my command.

			Crusher
Yes, Sir!  Transferring our virus program to my control, we 
can take over in under ten seconds at your order.  
Probability of detection is less than one percent.

			Riker
Very good, Ensign.
(To LaForge)
 You to, Lt. LaForge.

Riker returns to the command chair and sits down.



			Riker
(Determined)
I can't wait any longer, Geordi, locate Data and Grissom and 
beam them out of there, now!  I have to know what they've 
learned.

LaForge works some controls on his station again and again.

			LaForge
I can't, Sir.

			Riker
(Alarmed)
What do you mean you can't?

			LaForge
I can't lock onto their transponders.  It's either 
interference from that earlier blast or they're in a 
shielded room down there!

			Riker
Damn it, Data, where are you?




			CHAPTER 6

Data is STANDING by the door to Bovmann's office keeping an 
eye out for any intrusion while GRISSOM is behind Bovmann's 
desk rifling through the thick folder of material.

			Grissom
I have to say one thing for Bovmann, he's thorough!  
Everything is here, including optical discs of the original 
data transmissions.  There's is some reference to automated 
reports to strategic space-based personnel, but those were 
text only.  That shouldn't be a problem if we take the 
original sensor data.  All they'll have is a mystery message 
and no data to back it up with.

"I agree with your line of reasoning, Commander," Data said 
without taking his eyes off the corridor.  "Is there any 
reference to the incident causing the current state of 
alert?"

"No.  I don't have any information here that is defintive on 
that point.  I wish I could get into some of these locked 
drawers and file cabinets."  Grissom glanced at the locked 
cabinets next to her.

"Perhaps I can be of service," Data said as he approached 
the desk. "Please keep watch while I search the files."  
Data and Grissom exchanged places behind the desk, Grissom 
moving over to the door to keep the watch.  Data had no 
problem reducing the formiable looking security lock on the 
cabinet to a pile of scrap metal.  After some searching, 
Data found what they needed, "Here is a copy of the alert 
status log, Commander," he said, moving towards the door, 
document in hand.  "It clearly indicates that alert status 
three was reached five days ago and has been at that level 
since that time.  The reason given is a massing of 
Lucreacian forces at a strategic border location on the 
Western hemisphere."

Grissom took the report from Data's hands to see for 
herself, "Yes, this is what we need alright.  The Enterprise 
wasn't even in the system at that time.  We can get out of 
here now."

DATA MOVES to peer out the transparent door and out into the 
Situation Room PIT area.

			DATA
Not a moment too soon, Commander,  look at the missile 
status board.

DATA POINTS to something beyond the DOOR.

			Data (cont'd)
They have just launched a full scale strike against the 
Lucreacians.



			Grissom
(Anxious)
Oh, my God! We'll have to risk beaming out from here, Data, 
there's no time!

Data nods and touches the same place on his neck as before.  
Nothing happens.  Immediately Grissom tries the same, again 
with no effect.

			Data 
This area must be shielded as we suspected.  We must get 
back to the surface.  There should be enough confusion to 
cover our escape.

			Grissom 

Well, what are we waiting for?  Let's go!

Data nods and checks the corridor again through the door.  
He opens it quickly and steps out into the hall.  Grissom 
follows.

DATA and GRISSOM WALK quietly and quickly down the hall, 
there is a frantic amount of activity going on in the 
situation room "pit".  A NUMBER OF PERSONNEL can be seen 
working at the CONSOLES and talking on PHONES.  No one 
notices as DATA and GRISSOM EXIT through the same door they 
entered earlier.

Once outside the Situation Room proper Data and Grissom 
quickly made their way to the elevator bank, "I hope these 
are still functioning.  My guess is we'll have to get a 
little closer to the surface before we can contact the 
ship," offered Grissom.

Data made a quick check of his subcutaneous communicator to 
validate Grissom's assumption, "You are correct, Commander, 
my communicator is still not responding."  Grissom nodded 
and pressed to call button for the elevator as Data kept 
watch.  The indicator on the wall above the call button 
depicted the approach of the elevator car.  

"That is strange," said Grissom, "I think this gauge 
indicated the approach of a lift even before I hit the 
button."

"Since no one else is here to call for a lift, that would 
indicate that . . ."

"Oh, no, Data, quick," interrupted Grissom, "We've got to 
hide."  She quickly surveyed the long hallway and located a 
small unmarked doorway on the end opposite the Situation 
Room entrance. "There, Data, let's go!"  They hurryed over 
to the small door.  Grissom tried to open it, but it was 
locked, "Now, what?"

"Allow me," Data stated as he easily forced the door open 
with one hand, as if it were unlocked.  They rushed inside, 
barely making it before the elevator doors opened.

The room was a small janitor's closet, filled with assorted 
janitorial supplies, and little room.  Grissom and Data were 
forced to practically hug each other to fit in, but they 
made due.  In silence they listened to a brief conversation 
in the corridor.  "They're expecting you inside, Sir, the 
counterattack is in progress . . ."  Footsteps and then the 
sound of the Situation Room computer identifying the new 
arrival, the metallic voice was too low for them to hear the 
name clearly.  A door slamming, and then silence.

Data and Grissom waited a few moments to be sure no one was 
left in the corridor, then Data spoke, "I think it is clear 
now."  Data reached for the doorknob, but was stopped by the 
touch of Grissom's hand on his.

"Wait, Data," she said in a soft voice,  "Just what did you 
mean back in Bovmann's office when you said that you cared 
for me?"

Data was a moment in answering, "I do not know.  I seem to 
be experiencing a number of malfunctions where you are 
concerned."

Grissom expression went from concern to shame, "Never mind, 
Data, I have no right to question you, I'm acting like a 
damned schoolgirl.  It's just that I'm alittle scared, and I 
wanted some reassurance. I wanted to make sure I got to ask 
you that question."

"Please, do not appologize, Commander, you have every right 
to ask, and you deserve a better answer.  I will endeavor to 
come up with a proper response.  We will discuss it on the 
Enterprise.  Now, however, I think we should get to the 
elevator before someone else enters the corridor."

Grissom smiled and slowly removed her hand from Data 's.  
Data listened at the door for a few seconds and then quickly 
opened it onto the corridor.  No one was present in the 
area.  They quickly moved from the closet to the waiting 
elevator car.


Back on the bridge of Enterprise.

			Riker 
Status on those missiles, LaForge!

			LaForge 
They are one quarter of their way to target, Sir.  Rising 
above the limb of the planet, now.  They seem to be 
deploying decoys and chafe to throw off the opposition's 
tracking systems, Sir.

			Riker 
Have the opposing defense satellites made any moves yet?



			LaForge 
No, Sir.  They still seem to be trying to acquire their 
targets.  
	(Pause)
Sir, if they start blowing up nuclear warheads in orbit 
between us and the planet it may become extremely difficult 
to contact and lock on the away team.

			Riker 
I'm aware of that, Mr. LaForge.  Mr. Crusher take over anti-
missile satellites -- now! 
	(Under his breath)
Come on, Data, report in!

On cue, Data's voice, crackling with static is heard on the 
bridge.

			Data (on speakers)
Data to Enterprise.  Our mission is complete.  Request 
immediate beam up... do you read me Enterprise?

			Riker 
	(To Crusher)
Belay that last order!
	(To Ceiling)
Data, we read you, report!



			DATA
We have achieved our goal, Commander, we have the probe data 
and evidence that we are not in any way responsible for the 
current state of affairs.

Riker heart sank as he listened to Data's words.  He didn't 
have any excuse for interferring now.

			Riker
Transporter room, lock onto Data's signal and beam the Away 
Team up immediately!

			LaForge 
Sir, the satellites are beginning to fire!

Camera reverses angle to show the main screen.  Hundreds of 
tiny points of light can be seen rising above the right limb 
of the planet.  Suddenly lances of light streak across the 
picture in the direction of the points.  Large bursts of 
light begin to blossom where the tiny points had been.  

			Crusher
Standing by to take over command of satellites, Sir.

			RIKER
Stand down the virus program, Wes.  It's their own doing, we 
have no choice but to sit and watch.

In the transporter room Transporter chief O'Brien is 
frantically working the controls.  Data and Grissom begin to 
appear but then fade.  Riker's voice is heard over ship's 
communications.

			Riker (ON speakers)
Do you have them, Chief?!

			Chief O'Brien
I'm losing them, Sir!  Some kind of sudden energy surge in 
the transmission.  I'm re-energizing!

The Chief re-sets the controls and tries again.  Painfully 
slowly the images of Data and Grissom begin to appear and 
finally they solidify.

			Chief O'Brien
Bridge! I've got them, Sir!

Data and Grissom exit the transporter platform and 
immediately exit the room, heading for the bridge.  


			LaForge 
	(To Riker)
Several confirmed hits on the missiles, Sir.  But they got 
allot of decoys too.  It's not going to be enough!

Data and Grissom rush in from the turbo lift stage right.  
Data heads for his OPS console and relieves the red shirt 
that has been manning the station.  Grissom stops in her 
tracks as she catches sight of the main screen.

			Grissom 
Oh my God!

			Riker 
	(To Grissom)
That is why we had to get you out of there so fast.

			Data
Yes, Sir, we know. We were in the situation room when they 
started the war.

			Grissom 
	(Calmly to Riker)
We got all the data we needed, Sir.  And we're pretty sure 
they weren't interested in us much, until Data and I showed 
up.  Apparently, this crisis has been brewing for quite a 
long time.  It's not our fault, Sir, it just happened . . . 
something about troop movements in the Western hemisphere.  
It's all so senseless.

A bright flash from the main screen causes the bridge crew 
to cover their eyes momentarily.



			LaForge 
	(Sad)
That was the space station, they got her this time.
	(Pause)
Western hemisphere now launching a counter-strike.  Eighty 
percent of the anti-missile satellites are destroyed or 
inoperative... 
	(Turning to Riker)
...they're losing it, Sir.

			Riker
	(Sad)
Not our fault.
	(Pause. Angry)
But we sure as hell didn't do anything about it either.

Riker stands and exits the bridge by the turbo lift stage 
right, brushing past Grissom as he hurries out.  The lift 
doors closes behind him.
Andres Castineiras - 1


CHAPTER 7


Scene opens in a dimly lit room.  Camera pans to a CLOSE UP 
view of Riker staring out a view port in his darkened 
quarters.  The door chime rings.  Riker does not answer or 
move.  The door slids open and Troi enters the room.

			Troi 
The door was open.  I hope you don't mind.

Still Riker does not move, Troi moves closer and sits ON a 
chair across from Riker.

			Troi (cont'd)
	(Sad)
It's all over, Commander,  there is little or nothing left.  
All we get is indeterminate life signs through the 
radioactive haze.

RIKER continues to look out the view port.

			Riker
	(Sad and a bit angry)
I had to do it, the Prime Directive left me absolutely no 
choices.  
	(Long Pause)
I failed, Deanna, I can't run a starship . . . not if it 
means letting millions of innocent . . . 



			Troi 
	(Interrupting. Loud)
 . . . The people who started that war were not innocent, 
Will, they are guilty, guilty of a hideous crime against 
their own people.  
	(Pause)
The choice you made today was a very tough one, yet you made 
it.  You showed no indecision, you did what you had to do 
out of a sense of devotion.  Devotion to ideals that are 
often hard to follow.
	(Pause. Then Softly)
I know you, Will, sometimes you think that you care too 
much, and so you shut off your emotions.  You are upset 
about the implications of the decision you were forced to 
make, that is only natural. You also feel the because you 
care so much you won't ever make a good starship Captain.  
But I know that it is caring that drives you to be the best 
Star Fleet officer you can be, and it is what will allow you 
to succeed in that task.

			Riker
	(To Troi. Angry)
Sure, I made the decision, I upheld the Prime Directive like 
a good little soldier!  
	(Sad. Looking away.)
How do I live with the decision I had to make?

			Troi
You upheld the most difficult directive of all, Will, and I 
don't know how we live with it, that, unfortunately, isn't 
in any regulations manual.  We simply have to go on with our 
lives. 

			Riker
But how do we know non-interference is the best way, Deanna, 
especially in a case like this?

			Troi 
It's the best way we know how, Will.  How would it have been 
if a superior culture stepped in and stopped Earth's Third 
World War?  Perhaps millions would not have died, but maybe 
Earth would have destroyed itself in an even deadlier war 
later on instead of learning that war is no answer.  There 
are just to many variables.  There's nothing we could have 
done.  They had to choose their own way.

			Riker 
	(Deadpan)
Their way was destruction.

Riker had nothing more to say. He was again deep in thought.  
Minutes passed as they sat thinking before Riker spoke 
again.



			Riker
When I was a boy growing up around Prince William Sound my 
father used to tell me a story about a disaster that 
occurred there hundreds of years before.  It seems a large 
crude oil tanker ran aground while its drunken Captain was 
asleep below decks.  An inexperienced third mate made the 
wrong move and wound up spilling millions of gallons of 
crude oil into the Sound.  Millions of birds and hundreds of 
thousands of land and sea animals were killed and the area 
of environmentally damaged for over a hundred years.  I 
can't help but feel like that novice mate who made a 
disastrous decision.

			Troi
But you're not a novice, Will, you know your business better 
than most officers I've ever worked with.  That Captain and 
third mate were charged with delivering a cargo safely, they 
failed with tragic results.  You were charged with upholding 
the most important rule in our society, not with saving a 
poor misguided race from destruction, you succeeded.

Riker was still not convinced, he kept his silence. After a 
moment A communications whistle sounds in the room. Riker 
automatically looks up at the ceiling in the center of the 
room, grateful for the break.  We hear Data's voice.

			Data (On speakers)
Bridge here, Commander.  I think you should get up here, 
Sir, we have a new development.

Riker and Troi exchange a curious look.

			Riker 
On my way, Commander.

Riker and Troi head for the door and exit.


Andres Castineiras - 1


CHAPTER 8


Data had taken over in the center seat as soon as Commander 
Riker had left the bridge.  He wondered why Riker had not 
formally given him command, it was not like the Commander.  
He had wanted to ask the Counselor her opinion, but she had 
left the bridge shortly after Grissom had announced the 
death of the planet Home.

Data surveyed the scene on the main viewscreen.  Most of the 
missiles had exploded, one after another until the face of 
the once beautiful planet was covered in flame and smoke.  
Fewer and fewer missiles appeared now as the war was coming 
to a close.  Within minutes the entire planet had been layed 
waste.  Everything that was happening now was pure overkill.

When the final missile was gone Data stood and walked around 
to the upper portion of the bridge.  Grissom was bent over 
the Science 1 console studying the readings.  "Any change, 
Commander?"

"No, Sir, still no signs of life, radioactivity in the 
vicinity of the planet is increasing, but we are safe in the 
Enterprise.  The atmosphere is completely ionized, picking 
up massive amounts of smoke and debris in the atmosphere as 
well.  There are fires over fifty percent of the surface and 
its spreading.  It's not very pretty, Data."

"I see," was all he could say.  

"What about you, Data.  What are your readings?"

Data thought about the question for a moment and finally 
understood, "Ah, you are referring to my . . . malfunction."

Grissom smiled, her first since returning to the ship, and 
one of the few Data had seen.  "You amaze me, Data.  How 
could you have risen so high in the chain of command and not 
understand the little portion of human nature?"

Data misunderstood, "I was trained in command skills at Star 
Fleet Academy, first in my class in command and tactics. I 
served as an Ensign for many  years under the command of . . 
."

"No, Data.  Do you see what I mean, you didn't even 
understand my implication.  You didn't mean to hurt my 
feelings, did you, you really like me and you're having a 
problem with that."

"I did not intend to injure you in any fashion.  I do not 
know if I like you, I do not even know if I am capable of 
liking at all.  I do know that I act, differently around 
you."  Data almost whispered the last part of his statement.

"It is okay to like someone, Data, isn't it?"

"Yes, I believe it is -- okay, for a human or other 
emotional being, but I am an android."

"Sometimes I feel like an android myself, always struggling 
to succeed, never allowing myself to become emotionally 
involved with anyone.  It has always been work first for me.  
It's like I have no choice, I set up a goal and blindly go 
after it, and I usually succeed."

"But you should not lose sight of your reasons for achieving 
any goals.  As a human that would include emotional 
satisfaction in a job well done.  I to have goals, but I 
will never feel satisfaction.  You should not give that up, 
it is part of your human heritage, a part that I wish I 
could share."

Grissom was about to reply when she was interrupted by an 
alarm buzzer from the sensor panel beside her.  The two 
Enterprise officers turned as one to see what the problem 
was.  "Data, I'm reading a vessel approaching on an 
elliptical orbit."

"I see it, Pamela," said Data, not realizing he had 
addressed her by her first name.  He quickly moved back to 
the command chair, speaking to the ceiling communications 
pickup, "Data to Commander Riker . . ."

**********

Major Wigginson was worried.  It had been nearly two hours 
since he had attempted to contact Space Station One.  Cycler 
was now close enough to receive a reply in seconds, yet no 
reply was forthcoming.  Even more worrisome was the total 
silence from Homesian space, he should have been receiving 
endless messages of welcome from dozens of space agencies 
and private citizens.   He could not keep the USV report out 
of his mind as he waited for his reply, could it have 
something to do with the silence?

Another hour went by with no reply, Wigginson decided to 
check the readings ahead.  He tapped at his computer 
terminal, cutting through to the sensor subsystems, and 
requested an optical image of the planet ahead.  Slowly the 
image began to form, Home filled the frame from end to end, 
but something was wrong.  Dark splotches appeared all across 
the face of the planet, and streaks appeared in strange 
formation above the atmosphere.  Something was moving at a 
high relative velocity across the face of Home and was 
showing up on the time exposure as a white streak.  

The reality of the situation finally hit him, "Damn," he 
muttered to himself.  He wiped the image from his screen 
with a forceful keystroke.  When he had calmed himself 
sufficiently he reached for the communications equipment 
once again, "This is Major Wigginson of the Cycler 1, is 
there anybody out there, please respond, we are approaching 
Home and are in need of assistance, can you hear us control 
. . ."

**********

Data is at OPS, LaForge is at Engineering, Grissom is 
standing by Science 1.  Security station is also manned.  
Riker enters from turbo lift stage right, Troi is right 
behind him.  Riker strides over to the center seat and SITS.  
Troi takes her position next to him.

			Riker 
	(Formal Military tone.)
What's going on, Mr. Data?

			Data
We're picking up a signal, Commander, coming from some sort 
of spacecraft on a course towards Home.
	(Pause)
It's a distress call of some kind, Sir.

			LaForge
Decoding and translating now, Sir.

			Riker
Let's hear it, Lt.

The voice of the alien commander starts to come from the 
speakers on the bridge.  The transmission is FULL OF STATIC.

			Alien Commander (On speakers)
...can you hear us control.  We have lost all contact, 
repeat all contact!  What is happening down there?   I say 
again, we are approaching Home and are in need of 
assistance, is anyone there?

RIKER STANDS as the message plays, then TURNS TO LAFORGE.

			Riker
I've heard enough, Lt.!  Turn that off!

LaForge hits some buttons on his panel and the voice cuts 
off.

			Riker (Cont'd)
Give me a picture of that ship on the screen, Ensign 
Crusher.

Crusher works some controls and the camera goes to reverse 
angle showing the main viewer as it changes to a view of a 
rotating spaceship.  It is primitive by Star Fleet 
standards.  The ship consists of a main module and a long 
boom and is turning end over end in the direction of the 
Enterprise's view.  Camera ZOOMS on the screen to show the 
vessel in closer detail, then back to a MEDIUM SHOT of Riker 
gazing at the screen.

			Riker
	(To Himself)
It Doesn't even have artificial gravity.
	(Pause, then in a terse military tone)
Mr. Data, disengage cloaking device.  Mr. LaForge, give me a 
frequency to that vessel's commander, try to get me two way 
visual.

			Data
But, Sir, the Prime ...

			Riker 
(Cutting Data off. Forceful.)
Data, that's a space vehicle in distress, with no where to 
go!  The Prime Directive does not forbid me from aiding 
another space vessel in obvious distress!  Besides...

Riker turns to look a Troi sitting besides him.  Camera 
shows her as she nods her agreement with his assessment and 
smiles.  Cut to shot of Riker smiling back.  Back to a 
MEDIUM SHOT showing the bridge crew.

			Riker (cont'd)
...they may be the only survivors of a dead race. There are 
precedents, Mr. Data.

			Data
Aye, Sir.  Disengaging cloaking device.

Enterprise saucer section wavers into view FILLING the shot 
where there was only a static star field before.

RIKER STANDS looking intently at the MAIN SCREEN which is 
OFF SCREEN behind the CAMERA.



			LaForge (OS)
Hailing frequency open, Sir.  I've managed to tie into their 
visual system.  It's pretty primitive, but we should get a 
picture.

			Riker
This is Commander William Thomas Riker commanding the USS 
Enterprise representing the United Federation of Planets.  
Can we assist you?

CAMERA REVERSES to a view of the main screen.  It wavers 
until a man can be seen as if he is in a fish bowl.  Effect 
is like a view of a man standing to close to a wide angle 
lens.  The shot is reminiscent of a TV broadcast from 
today's Space Shuttle.  The man is white, about forty years 
of age and has about two weeks worth of facial hair growth.  
He is waring a Space Force blue coverall with insignia 
patches and mission patches all over it.  His rank shows up 
as Commander.  A name tag on his left breast reads 
"WIGGINSON".  He is the same man we saw at the beginning of 
the episode.

			Alien Commander 
We read you, Enterprise.  What is your business here?



			Riker 
We are on a peaceful scientific mission, Sir.
	(Pause. Continues in a more sober tone)
We regret to inform you that there has been a terrible war 
on your planet. Do not approach it. 

			Alien Commander 
	(Sad yet Angry)
A war you say, I only half believed my sensors.  How do I 
know you didn't cause this, Riker, I received a report on 
your ship a day and a half ago.

			Riker
Do you believe that my vessel could cause that much 
destruction?  You have sensors, look at that mess.  It was 
caused by massive bombardment by multiple thermonuclear 
devices.  We do not carry such weapons, we gave them up 
years ago.

			Alien commander
How should I know what you are capable of, Commander?  
Perhaps you have bombs and perhaps you don't.  

			Riker
If we were hostile why would we even be communicating with 
you?  

Riker paused and resumed his seat on the command chair, 
thinking about his next words.  "Listen, you know more about 
the political situation on your planet than I do.  Can you 
really say that this wasn't inevitable?  We have documents 
on board that clearly indicate a high state of alert long 
before we ever entered your solar system, all we want to do 
is help you.  If get much closer to the planet you'll be 
killed by the radiation, let me help you."

Wigginson thought for awhile, turning his face away from the 
screen before him.  After some contemplation he replied. "I 
believe you, Riker, I have no choice but to believe you, we 
have no way of changing course, we're locked into a 
permanent orbit that takes us between Home and the fourth 
planet of our system."

			Riker 
Very well, prepare to transfer to this vessel, we can assist 
you.

			Alien Commander 
Understood, Enterprise.  Standing by to be boarded.

			Riker 
Well, we won't actually board you... oh, never mind, I'll 
explain once you're here, just stay put.  Riker out.
	(To the ceiling)
Transporter room 3.  Lock on to all life forms on the 
approaching vessel and transport them over to the 
Enterprise.
	(To Data)
Data, you're with me.  Geordie, you have the bridge.

Riker and Data exit the bridge through the turbolift doors 
stage right.
Andres Castineiras - 1


CHAPTER 9


Riker and Data were in the turbolift for a few seconds when 
Riker broke the silence, "We have allot of preparations to 
make, Data."  Data nodded in reply.  "I want you to prepare 
a Homesian habitat on one of the holodecks to accomodate our 
guests, and make sure that they are all escorted directly 
there on beam in.  Limit all access to our technology, I 
want security covered around the clock."

"Yes, Sir, I'll have it all ready by the time the first 
group arrives."  The lift arrived at the deck containing the 
ship's largest holodeck, the computer had interpreted the 
conversation on board and determined the proper destination.  
Data stepped off the lift and turned to face Riker, "I will 
meet you in Transporter room 3."  Riker nodded his ascent as 
the turbolift doors closed between them.



Riker and Data are standing by the console as the O'Brien 
energizes.  The alien commander and five others appear. The 
OTHERS are dressed in similar overalls of differing colors.  
The commander steps forward. The others are escorted out of 
the room by various Enterprise personnel in GOLD and BLUE 
UNIFORMS.

			Alien Commander
Amazing technology!

			Riker
	(To Alien)
I'm Commander Riker, this is my next in command, Lt. 
Commander Data.  Your the last six.  The rest of your people 
are being shown to guest quarters.

			Alien Commander 
I'm Major Wigginson.  Commander of Cycler One.  Thank you 
for your help.
	(Pause. Then sadly)
Just what exactly happened down there anyway, Commander?

			Data
	(Before Riker can answer)
The Lucrecians fired a missile at your country's space 
station.  The missile was destroyed, but your country then 
decided to launch a full scale counterstrike.  The 
Lucrecians defense systems failed, but not before destroying 
most  of your own defense system and your space station.  
Before your missiles hit, the Lucrecians launched there own 
successful attack.
	(Pause)
Your planet is now quite uninhabitable.

			Wigginson 
They finally did it! Damn!

			Riker 
Why Wigginson?  What could have caused them to do this to 
themselves?

			Wigginson 
My people never did like the Lucs, Commander.  Even as we 
went out into space together, we still each maintained 
separate bases and military hardware.  Those of us who came 
to space soon learned that we really aren't any different 
from the Lucs, but that didn't change anything on the 
ground.  Political differences.  That's all it was, and now 
it's come to this!

			Riker
And you and your crew are the only ones left?

			Wigginson 
No, there's about a thousand others on Quarta, the fourth 
planet, Lucs and my people are represented.  We have a joint 
base there.

The transporter room doors open and Grissom enters.  She 
waits patiently to one side while Riker and Wigginson finish 
their conversation.

			Riker 
We can take you there, and we'll help you keep going.  
Perhaps someday you'll be able to re-claim your planet.

			Wigginson 
Thank you, were are going to need all the help we can get.

Riker extends his hand to Wigginson.  Wigginson slowly 
comprehends the gesture and shakes Riker's hand firmly.

			Riker
Data will show you to your quarters.

Data shows Wigginson out of the room. Grissom confronts 
Riker.

			Riker 
	(Before Grissom can speak)
Lt. Commander, I'm sorry I didn't mention it sooner but I 
think you did a fine job on the Away Team mission, a damn 
fine job.  I plan to recommend to the Captain that you be 
given Science Officer status and assigned to the bridge 
crew.

Grissom is taken totally by surprise by Riker's statement, 
her expression brightens and then suddenly takes on that old 
businesslike attitude.

			Grissom 
Thank you, Sir, I want that, more than you could ever know . 
. . but I can't accept.  I want to go with them, Sir, the 
Homesians.



			Riker 
Is that really what you want, Grissom.  It'll be hard, 
you'll be under almost primitive conditions.  We can't send 
along any technology that is far in  advance of these 
people.

			Grissom 
I know, Sir, but pioneering blood runs in my veins.  An 
ancient relative of mine was one of the first casualties of 
Earth's early space age.   I guess that's why I went into 
this field.  And no matter how much I want to be Science 
Officer, these people need me more.
	(Suddenly smiles)
Besides, I'll get a great paper out of this, maybe even a 
book!

			Riker 
	(Smiling back at her)
I think I understand, I have some pioners in my family tree 
as well.   My ancestors originally went to Alaska to build 
the Trans-Alaska pipeline and then settled there.  My family 
soon went into government service and the military.  To this 
day we carry on the tradition, my father is a civilian 
advisor to Star Fleet and I'm . . . well you know that part.  
Still, I don't think I'd want to live like my great, great, 
great great great grandfather did.   But if that's what you 
really want, Commander, the assignment's yours, and good 
luck to you.

			Grissom 
I believe the appropriate saying would be "Godspeed", 
Commander.

			Riker 
Yes, I guess that word would be apropos.
	(Smiles)
Alright then, Godspeed, Commander Grissom.

			Grissom 
Thank you, Sir,  and, Commander, once they're settled in 
here, in a few years perhaps, I'd like to come back and take 
you up on that Science Officer offer!

Riker smiles brightly at her as if to say "You've Got it!".  
He motions towards the door of the transporter room and they 
exit.
Andres Castineiras - 1


CHAPTER 10


CAMERA SHOWS Enterprise saucer section approaching the 
fourth planet.  It is not as large as Home, and is pinkish 
red in color.  We hear Riker's log entry as the Enterprise 
saucer section moves into orbit around the planet GS IV.

			Riker (VO)
Ship's Log, Stardate 43720.8. Commander Riker recording.  We 
are approaching Gamma Synchnaurus IV.  A team of engineers 
and scientists has volunteered to accompany the survivors 
from the Cycler to the planet and help them to survive and 
to build anew.  Lt. Commander Pamela Grissom has been placed 
in charge of the team, at her own request.  Lt. Commander 
Data has assisted the team in choosing the proper equipment 
to bring with them.

Grissom and Data are standing in front of the transporter 
console.  Wigginson and some other Homesians can be seen in 
the background preparing to beam down.  CAMERA CLOSES on 
DATA and GRISSOM, their NOSES about one foot apart.

			Grissom
	(Solemn)
I'm going to miss you, Data, you taught me allot about how 
to get ahead ... and how not to.

			Data
I will miss you, also, Mr. Grissom.  Good luck on your 
mission.  I know you will succeed.

Grissom smiles at Data, reaches up with her left hand and 
touches DATA's left cheek softly and briefly.  She then 
turns and takes a front position on the platform.  Data 
takes the controls from the transporter chief and sets 
coordinates.

			Data 
Energizing!

Grissom and the others de-materialize from the chamber. PAN 
to Data and ZOOM in on his face as he speaks

			Data 
	(Stage whisper, sad)
You were also my teacher, Lt. Commander Pamela Grissom.  You 
taught me how to sigh.

Camera stays fixed on Data's almost sad face


Add a scene here where Riker asks Wesley if he would like to 
perform a manual docking,  Wesley brightens, but then he 
refuses the "honor".  Riker decides to perform it himself, 
for old time sakes.

Scene in space as the Saucer section is re-uniting with the 
battle section sometime later.  The two sections come 
together and move off into space as we . . . Fade Out.

Andres Castineiras - 1


				EPILOGUE


Commander William Riker sat alone in a rear booth of ten 
forward, the half empty glass of Romulan Ale in front of him 
was long since forgotten.  The large recreation area was 
deserted at this late hour, but Riker, being the first 
officer, had access to any part of the ship at any time. He 
was deep in thought, reflecting on his first performance in 
charge of a starship.

The large pseudo-wooden doors to ten forward slide apart to 
admit Captain Jean-Luc Picard.  "There you are," he said as 
if he were searching for hours before locating his first 
officer.  Riker smiled knowing full well the Captain had 
used the ship's computer to locate his exact position.  
Riker was reminded of a story he had heard about the 
Captain's first use of that system, and his smile broadened.

"You're up awfully late, Captain." Riker replied.

"I was concerned when you didn't show up for Worf's briefing 
on the new weapons systems." 

"I needed some time to myself.  I've been thinking about 
this mission."

"I see."  Picard took a seat across the tiny round table 
from Riker and placed his hands on the tabletop.  "Your 
mission will likely become standard fare at the Academy, 
Number One, quite an impressive show."

Riker laughed.  "I can see it now, How to Kill Five and a 
Half Billion Beings in Ten Easy Lessons, by Commander 
William T. Riker."

"You didn't kill anyone, Will.  Quite the contrary, you 
managed to take a very bad situation and salvage it.  You 
could have walked away from that war and been right by all 
standards and regulations, yet you didn't.  What you did do 
was find a reason to help those people and made it stick.  
You didn't let a race die, Number One, you saved one, that 
is the part that will be taught to countless new generations 
of Star Fleet cadets."

Riker was not totally convinced, "The part that scares me is 
that I almost gave the order to stop their war. I came that 
close to interfering, and I'm not sure I made the right 
decision at that."

"You did make the right decision, Number One, in both 
instances.  And almost only counts in Centauran Checkers.

				*******

At ship's midnight the loneliest part of the Enterprise was 
her Main Engineering Core.  This particular night was 
different however, the huge room was occupied by two 
sentient beings, one human and one android.  Geordie LaForge 
stood over the supine body of Lt. Commander Data studying 
the readout on a hand held sensing device.

"You're right, Data, these readings are off slightly from 
the last set of data I have on your positronic pathway 
emissions.  It's not much, but I can't account for their 
presence."

"Do you suppose that these deviations could account for my . 
. . reactions to Lt. Commander Grissom, Geordie?"

"I don't know, Data, I don't think that anyone short of Dr. 
Soong could interpret these readings correctly."

"I have a theory, Geordie.  I believe the abnormal patterns 
began shortly after I accessed the records of Commander 
Grissom, that coupled with the sound of her voice and the 
visual input of her form caused me to . . . malfunction."

"But how could she cause the pattern of your pathways to 
change?  It doesn't make sense, Data."

"I believe that she was someone that Dr. Soong would have 
admired, her records and personality must have triggered 
some response in my positronic pathways that even Soong did 
not expect.  I suspect that there is more of him in me than 
he ever knew."

"That's great, Data, perhaps you've taken another step 
towards being fully human."

"I cannot accept this, Geordie, I must be restored to my 
fully functional state."

"Hey, a wait a minute, Data, maybe this was meant to be, 
love is no malfunction."

Data was disturbed by the echo of Grissom in LaForge's 
words, he closed his eyes as if in pain.  "Nevertheless, I 
wish to be restored to my former pattern.  Will you assist 
me in this?"

"If that's what you really want, I think I can do it.  Are 
you sure, Data?"

"Yes," said Data, "Please proceed."  Geordie frowned as he 
reached for another instrument on the table beside Data.  He 
paused to calibrate the instrument before placing it across 
Data's forehead.  Within seconds the instrument had done its 
job.

"That's it, Data.  I'm reading your old pattern again.  Of 
course this may effect your memories of Grissom."

"Of whom," Data asked?

"No one, Data, never mind."  Geordie helped Data up from the 
bench he was occupying and led him to the door of 
Engineering.  "I'm going to go to my quarters and catch some 
sleep before the day shift begins, what about you?"

"I think I will report to the bridge and check on the night 
crew.  Thank you, Geordie."  LaForge managed a smile before 
he walked away from the android, he was quickly out of 
sight.

Data walked away from Engineering in the opposite direction.  
The corridor was completely empty.  He soon came across the 
turbolift he was seeking and entered it.  "Bridge," he said 
to waiting lift, and it began to move at his command.  
Data's thoughts drifted, I will never forget you, Pamela, 
but I could never withstand the pain any other way.

Andres Castineiras - 1