Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [47]
Here, Ro faltered for a moment. “They are from the Bon Amar trading group—”
“Pirates,” Riker spat out.
“Sir, they are—”
“They are pirates, Ensign.” Now he was genuinely annoyed. The ship was conducting a massive search against astronomical odds and an important summit that was falling apart by the minute—and Ro was talking to pirates.
The Bon Amar were wanted in several sectors by local and Federation authorities. If Riker so much as saw a Bon Amar vessel, he would be obligated to arrest the crew and confiscate the ship on sight.
“The Bon Amar have been treated unfairly since—” Ro began.
“They are of no use to us on this mission,” Riker said.
“They are willing to help!” the ensign insisted.
Riker allowed his voice to rise in volume a notch above hers. “That’s not the kind of help we need.”
Ro turned to the computer panel. “Computer, stop turbolift,” she snapped. Turning back to Riker, she said, “Sir, it is the only kind of help we are going to get. While it is true the Bon Amar have had to resort to nontraditional trading practices—”
“They’ve plundered legitimate trading routes,” he reminded her.
Ro shook her head. “They did what they had to do to help finance the Bajoran resistance. Most of their appropriations were from Cardassian or Cardassian-friendly vessels. It’s true that they’re not licensed to operate in Federation trade lanes, but the only reason they weren’t exonerated and fully recognized by the Federation is that they didn’t quit after the Cardassians left Bajor.
“They’re still trying to recover a fraction of the damages done by the Cardassians to my people. And because they’re still active, they have been a political embarrassment for the Federation, who would rather disavow them than risk upsetting the Cardassians.”
Riker scowled. “I leave politics to the politicians, Ensign. When it comes to the Bon Amar or any recognized criminals, my duty and the duty of this ship is clear. Your contact with wanted criminals raises a lot of questions … which I will choose to overlook if that contact is not repeated.”
But Ro wouldn’t quit. “Sir, whatever feelings you may have about the Bon Amar, they’re willing to help us for a fair price. And frankly, I don’t think we can afford to turn down any assistance, no matter the source.”
Riker drew his breath to respond, but the Bajoran obviously would not be satisfied until she had said her piece.
“With all due respect, Commander, I have watched you break every rule in the book on this mission to continue a search that any sane person would recognize as impossible. During that time, I and this crew have done everything in our power to support you. And now, when success may be in reach, you say that duty prevents you from finishing what you have started.”
Riker had had enough. “Computer, start turbolift.” He faced Ro. “Ensign, you’re out of line. It’s not up to you to decide what is and what is not acceptable in the course of fulfilling our mission. I took an oath when I joined Starfleet to uphold the laws of the Federation—and in case you’ve forgotten, you took the same one. That oath is not flexible or changeable when it becomes inconvenient. Captain Picard respected it, and I will not break it even to find him. I suggest you review it—and then take a long, hard look at your future here.”
The turbolift doors opened and the first officer strode out. He turned back to Ro, making it clear from his face that he would accept no further argument on the subject of the Bon Amar. “And Ensign, get some rest. That’s an order.”
With that, he headed for his quarters.
Inside, Riker could feel the tension across his shoulders and his brow, and he realized that he wouldn’t be doing any sleeping on this shift.
Moments later, he found himself sitting at his computer console. “Computer, access files on a trade consortium called the Bon Amar.”
By the time Lieutenant Harold left, Picard was already feeling the toll of the day. He knew he needed rest. Both his head and his shoulder