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Captain's Log, USS Hephaestus NCC-91748
Commander Grunt recording.
On routine patrol of Iota Pavonis sector. We provided humanitarian relief for a former Romulan colony that had been experiencing a pandemic, and assisted the USS Pournelle with lifting a Reman blockade of that world, but other than that there's been no excitement here. We've got three weeks left on this patrol, and then back to Starbase for resupply. Strongly considering some sort of betting pool just to relieve the monotony. It might be over the species of Lt. Manalang's next conquest - the man seems to be aiming at outdoing the legendary Captain Kirk, at least as far as anything that can be defined as "female" is concerned. So far, no adverse effects on crew morale, but Lt. Brel is monitoring the situation.
Grunt yawned. "Someone remind me why we're out here?" he asked plaintively.
"Because Admiral T'Nae still doesn't believe in your command abilities," Roclak rumbled behind him. "Also, I think she might still be miffed about not getting the computer."
"Do Vulcans get miffed?"
At the helm, Gydap stifled a chuckle. Then he sat up straight, antennae quivering nervously. "Captain, I can sense -- something's happening here..."
"What is it?"
"Not exactly clear, sir--"
At that moment, a flickering form began to take shape immediately before the viewscreen. It coalesced into a solid form - a humanoid, tall, slim, with pronounced eye-ridges, and a fringe of hair around its scalp. It reached full solidity, then collapsed.
As Shelana jumped from her place at Security and raised her sidearm, Grunt stood and slapped his combadge. "Grunt to sickbay! One unknown humanoid life form, may require medical assistance, on the bridge!"
The being raised one thick, two-fingered hand. "No, Commander," he replied in a voice that rapidly gained strength, "that will not be necessary. Besides, intending no offense toward your doubtless fine medical staff, but I doubt there is much they could do for me in any event. I have been known to your people as the Traveller, and I am aboard your ship to request asylum."
"Asylum? From whom?"
"From us, Commander Grunt," a pleasant baritone voice replied. Another form, this one appearing as a bearded middle-aged Human with greying hair, came into existence next to the Traveller. His robes rustled as he raised an arm. "My name, or one of my names, is Ayelborne. As a representative of the Organians, I wish to take this miscreant into custody for his crimes."
"And what crimes would those be, Mr. - Ayelborne, was it?"
"Interference with the evolutionary path of younger species," the Organian replied, "in contravention of the agreements reached between his people and our own. Specifically, he has accelerated the paths of certain individuals, beginning with one Wesley R. Crusher some forty-seven years ago as you measure time, and including several others. His most recent attempt went poorly, and cost the life of a young Bolian boy who would otherwise have lived out a normal span." He shook his head. "Such - criminal negligence must be stopped. Permanently."
"And why did you want that agreement?" the Traveller replied passionately. "Because you believed in choice - at least, that was what you claimed. You wanted the younger species to rise and fall of their own choice. All I do is offer that choice, to those who are capable of making it. My people only reached that agreement because they did not care what happened to any other species! My only crime is wanting to help!"
"Well," Grunt said with a steadiness he did not feel, "he seems to have you there, Ayelborne. As I recall my history, you Organians dabbled in a bit of interference yourselves - imposing a 'peace treaty' between the Federation and the Klingon Empire, and then abandoning your charge when we really could have used the help. Your hands hardly seem clean enough to pass such judgement. At any rate, you are aboard a Federation starship, and I am the commanding officer. He has requested asylum with us. Unless you intend to 'interfere' more than he seems to have, it would be up to me, yes?"
"Sounds like we need a hearing board!" a disembodied voice interrupted. There was a flash, and Grunt, Roclak, Shelana, Ayelborne, and the Traveller found themselves standing in a round room, a round table in the center. On a raised dais at the edge of the room, there sat a dark-haired Human, dressed in the robes of a Ferengi executive. Grunt stared for a moment, then dropped his head into his hands.
"Oh, profits, no! Not him again!"
"Oh, yes, me again!" Q replied gaily. "Let us face facts, my lumpy-headed friend. Should the Organian decide to take the Traveller with him, there's not a blessed thing you, your half-Pakled engineer, or your newly-found synthetic friend Mycroft could do to even slow him down. I thought that perhaps the Continuum might be able to help enforce your decision. Oh, do put that down!" That last was directed at Shelana, who had leveled her phaser at Q. A flash, and she was holding a bouquet of flowers.
"The last time we met," she said levelly, "I told you that I would happily strangle you with your own entrails. Did you think that was exaggeration?"
"Oh, no, my dear," Q assured her, "I am well aware you meant every bit of that. I'd be tempted to let you try - at least that's one thing I've never experienced - but the mess might derail this hearing. Hardly suitable for such august surroundings."
Grunt had been looking out the window. "The Tower of Commerce?" he asked quizzically.
Q gestured expansively. "I wanted to select a suitable venue. I could have used a Federation courtroom, but then the conclusion would be foregone - the Federation's never met a refugee it didn't love. And somehow I doubt Mr. Rockhead over there ever wants to see the inside of a Klingon Hall of Justice again."
Roclak growled. "Your attempts at insult are futile, Q - and counterproductive, if you really are interested in having a 'hearing'."
"Oh, by all means!" Q declared. "And it really wouldn't be suitable for me to judge - being omniscient, I already know everyone's arguments, and what fun would that be?" He snapped his fingers, and suddenly he was standing near Roclak, wearing a Starfleet commander's uniform, and Grunt was atop the dais clad in executive robes. "There, I think we're about ready. Witnesses can be summoned as needed, obviously.”
Grunt’s head spun. “You seriously want to hold a trial. A Ferengi trial.”
“I thought I had made that plain,” Q said. “We’re in the Tower of Commerce, you’re wearing the clothing of a corporate executive…” He waved a hand.
“And you give your word that you’ll abide by the results of the trial?”
“So long as you conduct it within the strictures of the Ferengi legal system, of course I will. That’s why we’re here, after all.”
"Very well," Grunt said. He shook his head. "This board is now in session. We are hearing the case of the Traveller, who is requesting asylum from the Organians. As is traditional, the defense will present its case first."
The Traveller stood. "Thank you, Overseer. As you may now be aware, there does exist an - agreement between the Organians and certain representatives of my people, calling for us to take a 'hands-off' approach to the younger, less-developed races in this galaxy. I submit to you, however, that this agreement has led to far more suffering and misery than any interference ever has. As an example, there are the tensions between the Klingon Empire and the United Federation of Planets currently - tensions which would have been easily and quickly defused under the terms of the so-called 'Organian Peace Treaty', as Ambassador B'vat would have been unable to foment a state of open war. As it happens, not only was B'vat able to do that, he made an attempt to seriously derail this entire timeline, an attempt foiled by the efforts of yourself and your crew. I call Lt. Miral Paris, the Kuvah'magh, to the stand!"
There was a flash, and a seat next to the dais was suddenly occupied by a young woman with traces of Klingon ancestry. She started, then looked around and demanded, "Great, now what? I thought I was done with having my life upended!"
"Don't get yourself in a state, Lieutenant," Q said. "We just need you to testify at a trial, regarding certain matters you were involved with. You'll be back as soon as you left, and this won't trouble your memory in the least.”
“Trial?? What are you – wait, Commander Grunt?”
“Yes, lieutenant,” Grunt replied. “There seems to be a dispute with the Organians, and the Q want to have me adjudicate. I don’t fully understand it either.”
“Well, sir… if you say so…” Paris seems uncertain.
"Lt. Paris," the Traveller said soothingly, "I just wanted to ask you a few questions. Are you aware of the former Organian Treaty?"
"Yes, of course,” she replied. “It was part of the history course at the Academy."
"In your opinion, Lieutenant, would the troubles you had with B'vat and his followers have been changed at all if the treaty had still been in force?"
"Well, of course. Since B'vat wouldn't have been able to fire weapons at any Starfleet vessel or personnel, there would have been no way for him to abduct me from the Kirk. That whole time-travel mess would have been impossible, if the Organians hadn't disappeared."
"And if the Treaty had never existed?"
"That's a little harder to answer. However, it seems to me that if there had never been an Organian Peace Treaty, my mother, B'Ellana Torres, would never have existed - there would have been no possibility of a half-Klingon, half-human, at least not one that was ever able to even try to join Starfleet. And as a consequence, I never would have been born, and the Klingons would still be looking for their kuvah'magh. Therefore, it would be reasonable to suppose that B'vat would never have kidnapped any Starfleet people at all, much less taken them back in time almost two centuries."
"Thank you, Lieutenant. I have no further questions." The Traveller stepped back from the stand. Another flash, and Paris disappeared.
"Hold!" Ayelborne demanded. "Will there be no cross-examination?"
"This hearing is in a Ferengi court," Q said with amusement. "Therefore, it will conform to the Ferengi justice system. Unless you want to pay the fee to have the witness recalled - and given my fee structure, I don't really think you do - there's no cross-examination."
"Very well," Ayelborne grumbled.
Grunt rapped at the desk before him. "Order! Traveller, you may continue."
"Thank you, Overseer," the Traveller replied. "I hold that this 'agreement' is both pointless and positively damaging. Had the Organians not first interfered, then tried to wash their hands of their responsibilities for our younger siblings of the galaxy, much suffering could have been averted. What's more, when the Borg and Undine began invading this area in earnest, the Federation and the Empire could have presented a united front, rather than fracturing - and giving the Iconians and their servitors an opening. What is more, while I will admit that some of my proteges have been more successful than others, even the mistakes might have been avoided - if the Organians hadn't conveniently decided they no longer had any duties to anyone but themselves! Poor Mot Taneko - the Bolian to whom Ayelborne alluded earlier - with proper guidance, even he might have overcome the twists in his mind that caused so very much difficulty, for himself and others. But no, they 'must not interfere.' Not any more, at least - not when the consequences of not 'interfering' are distant, and can be ignored." The Traveller shook his head. "I can't just ignore them. Not when I can help. I submit to you, sir, that turning me over to the mercies of the Organians would be cruel, even by the strict standards of Ferengi justice. I thank you for your time." He sat.
Grunt turned to the Organian. "Very well, Ayelborne, your turn."
The Organian stood. "I see no need to make any sweeping arguments," he said, "or call any witnesses. For one simple fact remains - there was an agreement reached. My people and his came to an understanding - a contract, if you will - to refrain from interference with the other races of this galaxy. I believe your own people have a saying, that 'a contract is a contract is a contract.' And he is clearly in contravention of that contract!"
Grunt smiled. "Indeed." The smile vanished. "Don't be insulting. Do you imagine that because I wear a Starfleet uniform, I don't know the Rules of Acquisition backward and forward? And Rule 17 states, 'A contract is a contract is a contract - but only between Ferengi.' I hope you're not going to claim you're both Ferengi now." He look appraisingly at Ayelborne's head. "Because quite frankly, and intending no offense, you don't really have the lobes for it." Grunt stood, slapping the desk. "Very well. Arguments have been submitted by both parties, and as no financial considerations have been offered by either party, I must rule on the evidence before me. And the evidence before me supports a decision of asylum for the Traveller. Ayelborne, so long as the Traveller is in space controlled by either the United Federation of Planets or the Ferengi Alliance, you are hereby enjoined from disruption of his usual activities, except insofar as such disruption is necessary to save lives. And Traveller, you are now free to move throughout Federation or Alliance space -- but know that even with the rather - unusual support offered by the Q, my jurisdiction does not extend beyond those spaces. Any movement beyond those borders is entirely at your own risk." He slapped the desk again. "This hearing is adjourned!"
Silence fell across the room, broken only by Q standing and applauding. "Bravo, Commander! A judgment both just and fair! I knew I could count on a Ferengi to know how to twist the letter of the law!" He snapped his fingers, and they were all back on the bridge of the Hephaestus. Grunt was wearing his uniform again, while Q was dressed as a Fleet Admiral. The only oddity to their appearance was the bouquet of flowers in the holster at Shelana's side.
"Welcome back, sir," Gydap said. "We were privileged to watch your performance on the main screen here. And congratulations!"
"Thanks, Gydap," Grunt replied. He turned and looked at Ayelborne. "Well? The hearing is over, you lost. Now get the hell off my ship!"
Ayelborne looked at him disapprovingly, then vanished. In a flash, Q followed suit.
"Thank you, Commander," the Traveller said. "Your wisdom is--"
"Can it!" Grunt interrupted, baring his teeth. "You played with people's lives. You don't know - you can't know - what will happen when you lead someone up that path. And you obviously don't examine your candidates sufficiently carefully, or you'd know which ones can't be trusted with that kind of power. This entire mess could have been avoided. There's an old Terran saying - 'With great power comes great responsibility.' You tried to duck that responsibility." His voice went utterly cold. "Don't let it happen again."
The Traveller bowed his head. "I understand. I accept the responsibility. And - thank you for my freedom." He faded away.
Grunt turned back to his crew. "Okay, that was an interesting diversion." He walked back to the captain's seat and settled in. "But now it's time to go back to the patrol. We have our responsibilities, too."