Picard relaxed. "I understand. Let me ask a few more questions about you and your people, just so this type of misunderstanding won't happen again."

"Certainly," said Jared, taking a seat on the couch.

"Tell me about the war you escaped-and tell me why you didn't take any hum-organic Vemlans along."

The Freedom's captain nodded. "I don't know too much about the war, itself-I was stationed at a research base on Vemla's outer moon." Jared finished his drink and poured another gla.s.s. "I do know that it was very b.l.o.o.d.y. The fighting was between two rival political groups and took most of the planet by surprise. Our world had enjoyed over two hundred years of uninterrupted peace. The destruction was horrendous. Billions died. All sorts of terrible weapons were used. Including androids." Jared closed his eyes and sighed. "Garan was specifically designed for battle-a prototype. It doesn't take much intelligence to be a killing machine. When the Capitol was destroyed, and all was in chaos, we reprogrammed him to keep him from fighting. Kurta uses him in the hydroponic gardens when he isn't needed for more physical tasks. But he is incapable of violence. He couldn't hurt anything now.

"The war eventually spread to the moons. The humans in our facility were killed one night by a virulent contaminant brought in by terrorists. We were all that was left. When we saw what the war had done to our home, we knew we couldn't stay. So we took the Freedom-and we've been traveling ever since, looking for a place to settle."

"I believe I understand your actions now, Jared," Picard said, deeply moved. He'd heard similar tales before, of races whose technology had outpaced their emotional growth. But the idea of a planet destroying itself was always horrifying. "It is ... regrettable that your builders failed to come to terms with their aggression and political turmoil. It sounds as if they were very close to developing a truly civilized culture."

"They were. And I feel certain my people will not repeat their mistakes."

Picard nodded. For all their sakes, he hoped so.

After the Vemlans returned to their ship, Picard headed to the bridge for one last look around before retiring for the day. As he entered the turbolift, he was joined by Riker, who had changed back into his standard uniform.

"Did you learn anything important in your-interview?"

The captain nodded. "Yes. I don't think we have much to worry about from Captain Jared and the Freedom, Number One. They were merely concerned about our intentions. I believe them to be exactly what they said they were-refugees in search of a place to settle."

"I'm still suspicious," Will remarked, his brow knit in thought, "but I have to admit, they were delightful as dinner companions. Especially the executive officer-quite attractive."

"Yes, they were all very attractive," Picard said, raising his eyebrows. He wasn't immune to earthly beauty. "A credit to their ... designers."

"It's hard to dislike something that beautiful," Riker admitted. "But that just makes me all the more suspicious."

The turbolift came to a stop and the doors whisked open. The bridge was quiet; only the Ops and helm consoles were occupied, though Worf was diligently checking the sensor relays. He glanced up, saw the captain, and spoke.

"Sir, I've been realigning the sensor relays, and have discovered an anomaly."

Picard turned. "That's hardly unexpected, Mr. Worf. The sensors still haven't fully recovered from the storm."

"Yes, sir. I am aware of that. But this anomaly looks very much like another ship."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "Can you get a fix on it?"

"Trying, sir," Worf said, fingers stabbing at the console.

"Whatever it is, it's closing on our position," Riker said, leaning over the Ops console.

"Sir, a second ship has been detected," Worf said, looking down at the tactical station. "No-four-six-a large group of ships in a tight formation."

Riker looked over the Ops panel. "They're all traveling slowly, though-just at warp one."

"A fleet?" asked Picard, alarmed. "This far out in s.p.a.ce? Can you identify it?" he asked his tactical officer. Peaceful craft tended to roam the sea of s.p.a.ce singly. Large groups often meant trouble.

Worf shook his head. "The computer couldn't get a fix on it long enough to identify it. But it ruled out a number of possibilities. It isn't a Federation, Klingon, Sirian, or Ferengi fleet of any known composition. The computer also ruled out the possibility of a Romulan fleet, in consideration of the small size and slow speed."

"That narrows it down. There are only another hundred or so known s.p.a.cefaring races that it could be." Picard took his seat. "Mr. Worf, what else do the scanners say about the fleet?"

"The ships have impressive armament for their size. Seven capital ships of nine hundred thousand metric tones, with a number of smaller craft escorting them. Estimate they will intersect our position in approximately six hours."

"Let's find out what they want then, shall we? Open hailing frequencies, Mr. Worf." Picard cleared his throat. "Greetings. This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the United Federation of Planets' starship Enterprise."

There were a few moments of silence before any response came. When it did, it came without a visual aspect, as a slightly tinny vocal message.

"This is Prefect Morgas, of the naval ship Vindicator. Stand by to be addressed by the Fleet Force Commander. Do you have visual capabilities?"

Worf was still at his security console behind the command area. He seemed intent on the readings before him.

"Yes, Prefect, we do," Picard answered, warily.

In moments the image of a tall, elderly man in a black, military-looking costume spread itself across the forward viewscreen. He was slightly built and had a severely hooked nose. Gold and silver medallions were pinned to his chest, though whether they were rank, insignia, or military decorations, Picard couldn't tell. He held himself as one who expected to be obeyed in all things, yet was not overbearing. Picard's overall impression was that the man was a hawk, a predator.

The man smiled, a tight-lipped and stern expression. His eyes were bright and intense, but not necessarily friendly.

"Greetings, Captain Picard. I am Force Commander Sawliru of the Vemlan navy."

Vemlan? Picard exchanged a troubled glance with his first officer. According to Jared, there were no more Vemlans. Perhaps they had been mistaken. Or perhaps, they had lied.

"Force Commander," Picard said. "I'll get right to the point. We've noted you're on course to intercept us and wonder what your intentions are."

"We are not violating your s.p.a.ce, are we?" the man asked with a frown.

Picard shook his head. "No, Force Commander, we are too far from the settled regions of Federation s.p.a.ce to make any formal territorial declarations."

"If I might ask, then," Sawliru interrupted, "what brings you this far out?"

"We were simply exploring and mapping this territory when we had to pause for the storm."

"You weren't damaged, were you?" Sawliru asked. "We would be glad to offer a.s.sistance-"

"No, thank you for your offer. We are just finishing up repairs. We should be on our way before long."

"Then I wish you a safe journey, Enterprise." He made a motion to cut the transmission, but Picard's insistent voice stopped him.

"Force Commander, I am still curious about your present course. Why are you coming so close to us?"

The other man smiled nonchalantly. "There is a stray robot freighter near your position. Something went wrong in the programming and it wandered off course. Nothing major. We're just going to collect it and go on our way."

There was a silence on the bridge. Picard took a deep breath. "My apologies, Commander. We know of only one ship in our vicinity, and it is not a robot freighter. Our sensor equipment is very accurate. Could we be of a.s.sistance locating the ship you are seeking?"

Sawliru glanced at something or someone offscreen for a moment.

"No, Captain, I think we have the ship we want. It's a prototype cargo vessel, the Conquest. She lies about seven hundred kilometers away from your port bow."

This time it was Picard's turn to frown. "Force Commander, there is a ship in that position, but it isn't a robot freighter. It's the exploration ship Freedom. I enjoyed dinner with her captain just tonight."

Something troubling but indefinable flashed across Sawliru's face. "The Freedom, is it? Captain, that ship was commissioned the Conquest not over ten months ago. Whoever told you otherwise was lying to you."

"Strong language, Force Commander," Picard said, raising his eyebrows. "You said that it was a robot freighter, yet my second officer toured her extensively and tells me that it is definitely a crewed colonization ship."

"Yes, I'm sure he did. Not that I'm doubting your second officer's opinion, but there are ... things that he doesn't know about that ship."

"Indeed," said Picard, again raising an eyebrow. "And what might these things be?"

There was a momentary pause as the Force Commander chose his words. Then, with a decisive gesture, he spoke. "Captain," the Force Commander said deliberately, "the Conquest is crewed entirely by machines. There are no people on board at all."

The Vemlan Force Commander leaned back, waiting for Picard's expression of shock. It never came.

"We are aware of that, Commander," Picard replied nonchalantly. "Your point, if you please."

Picard watched as Sawliru's face became the battleground of conflicting emotions. He seemed as if he was both excited about the discovery and disappointed with Picard's response. He started to speak, then stopped, then started again, and again stopped. Finally, he collected his thoughts and proceeded more calmly, and his voice took a decidedly demanding tone.

"Captain, that ship and those androids are property of the Vemlan government. The fleet that I command has been sent to reclaim them."

Chapter Five.

SAWLIRU'S WORDS HUNG heavily in the air between the alien commander and the captain of the Enterprise.

"Is there a problem, Captain Picard?"

"I sincerely hope not," Picard said. "One minute, please." He signaled to Worf to cut off the transmission.

"Somebody is lying here, Captain," Riker said, coming up behind him. "And right now it looks to be the androids. Obviously, if that's the Vemlan fleet out there, all the Vemlans weren't killed in that war Jared talked about."

"If there was a war at all," Worf interjected.

"So how did Jared and his crew get hold of that ship?" Picard wondered.

"We know their version of the story," Riker said. He nodded toward the viewscreen. "Why don't we get his?"

Picard nodded, and indicated to Worf he should reopen communications. "Commander," he began, "if the crew manning the Freedom were your androids, how did they escape your control?"

While he was speaking, a soft hiss sounded and out of the corner of his eye he saw Data, summoned by Riker, appear from the turbolift. He glanced momentarily at the screen and made his way to science one. The significance of who and what he was, was apparently lost on Sawliru, Jean-Luc decided. He was too busy with debate for close inspection of the background.

"They are criminals," Sawliru stated firmly. "In addition to other crimes, they have pirated a very valuable s.p.a.ceship and stolen priceless equipment and art away from our planet. The Vemlan people demand their return, and our governing council has sent me to conduct their will."

"You claim these androids are your property, then?" Picard asked.

"Of course. Is not your ship property?"

"Commander, there are some races that see human lives as valuable property," Picard explained. "We in Starfleet and the Federation, which we represent, do not see any sentient beings as property or chattel."

"They are machines, not people," Sawliru insisted. "We designed them, we created them, we programmed them, and they have malfunctioned. Because of them countless lives have been lost. However, Captain, their sentience is not the issue here," he replied. "I am coming after what I have been sent for."

"In several hours, perhaps; you must get here first. We shall speak again on this matter. Enterprise out."

The image of the hawk-faced man disappeared in a blink, to be replaced by the glowing starfield. Picard stood up from his chair, stretched his arms slightly, and continued to stare at the screen, where only the stars broke the blackness. "Number One, I want to see you and Mr. Data in my ready room in five minutes."

The three men had spent almost an hour going over the problem in detail. The captain sat back behind his desk, a teapot, cup, and saucer by his side, and summed up the situation.

"To reiterate the problem before us, gentlemen," he said. "Force Commander Sawliru has claimed ownership of the Freedom-which he, incidentally, called the Conquest-and all of its contents, in the name of the Vemlan People. Including its crew. They mean to rendezvous with the ship and take it, seemingly by force, if necessary."

"Sensor scans of the ships as they have come closer have confirmed Worf's suspicions," said Data. "The fleet is of an entirely military nature. Their combined power is more than a match for the Freedom's armament, though the Vemlan androids have made extensive modifications to the original weapons systems."

"Yes," agreed Riker. "Captain, I have a suggestion. If we were to look at the matter from a strictly legal point of view-that is, if the ship and its crew are property, as Sawliru insists, then they could be cla.s.sified as unclaimed flotsam. According to law, such flotsam is open to salvage by the first ship to make a claim."

Picard paused in thought. "Interesting idea, Number One. But this presupposes that it is desirable or ethical to intercede on the androids' behalf. I am not certain that it is either."

"Captain, I do not see that such a problem exists. The Vemlan androids are refugees, and under Starfleet General Orders, refugees from wars or active combat zones are to be protected and a.s.sisted and offered aid and protection from any hostile forces. I would consider Force Commander Sawliru's fleet as a hostile force. In addition, numerous treaty constraints, including the Magellan Treaty, the Rigellian Accords, and the Klingon-Federation Pact include specific articles devoted to the treatment of alien refugees."

Picard frowned. Data seemed interested in a way he'd never been before.

"But according to Sawliru, they stole the Freedom," Riker said. "That makes them pirates under the law. There is quite a bit of legislation about piracy as well as the treatment of refugees in those same treaties. If we choose to intercede, we had better be sure that we're doing it on the right side."

Picard took a sip of his tea. "Yes, the androids claim to be refugees. Yet the Force Commander claimed that they were malfunctioning runaways on a stolen ship. Your points are well taken, gentlemen-but before I can take any action, I need to know the facts." He paused and finished his tea. "Any advice?"

Riker considered a moment before he spoke. "I would speak to Jared first, Captain, and tell him about your conversation with Sawliru. Maybe that will scare a little truth out of his circuits."

Data turned in his chair and looked at Riker. "Commander, are you attempting to be derogatory in your references to Captain Jared?"

Riker had been smiling slightly, but Data's accusation wiped that expression off his face in a hurry. "No, Data, I didn't. What do you mean?"

"I mean that your words seem to present a biased view of the Vemlans," Data said.

"If you mean the androids, I resent that, Data. I like to think that I treat all races fairly."

"Yet you seem to present an innate distrust of the androids."

Riker was growing defensive. "Data, I don't trust anyone who's evasive or lies to me. The androids have done both."

There was an awkward pause. The android officer seemed to accept the logic of Riker's statement-and a good thing, too. Dissension in his command was the last thing Picard needed at a time like this. But perhaps Data's unique insights could be of a.s.sistance in this case. "Data, what impressions were you able to glean from the Vemlans during last night's tour of the Enterprise?"

"I think it is very probable that they were indeed fleeing a war," the android said calmly. "It is my opinion that they are refugees, according to Starfleet definitions."

"Commander Riker?"

"Captain," he began, his emotions still a little high and showing in his face, "I think that both sides are hiding something. But I don't have Deanna's talents or resources, and can't be sure."

"Yes, the counselor's input would be most helpful right now. I'll have a tape of my conversation with Sawliru played for her, and see what she thinks. Data, at their present speed, when will the Vemlan Fleet be in contact?"