Section 31_ Rogue - Andy Mangels [33]
Tabor stepped forward, his voice soothing. “Protector, General, we need to focus on the matters at-“
“You think that this is not the matter at hand?” Falhain reared back, and Picard realized that his full height was more imposing than he had originally imagined. His brows furrowed, and his sharp teeth glistened as he spat his interruption. “The government that the Federation has allied itself with has been practicing genocide. It is not enough that their raiding parties remove our precious soil and water, leaving the outland villages to choke on dust-they also murder any who have the courage to gainsay their greed, whether armed or not. Our fight is not about politics. We struggle for our very survival!”
The dark-haired aide to Falhain reached behind his back, his arms swiveling impossibly in his shoulder sockets. As the Chiarosan bodyguards defensively unsheathed their weapons, he removed a device from a satchel he wore on his back and displayed it in front of him. It was less than half a meter tall, with three short legs at its base, and a circular lens at its top.
“You ask for proof, Ruardh?” Falhain swiveled his head toward Picard and his officers. “No doubt your Starfleet allies are equally suspicious of my motives, having heard only your arguments to the Federation. Here then are the records of your monstrous deeds. Grelun?”
Responding to Falhain’s command, the dark-haired warrior touched a recessed space on the device, which he had placed on the floor. A flickering light shot up into the air, before coalescing into a three-dimensional, full-motion image of a village. Homes were burning, as their inhabitants tried to put them out. Chiarosan troops, in military garb, were attacking the villagers, killing many of them. Picard winced to see that many of the victims were women and children.
Data leaned toward Picard and Riker, his voice carefully modulated so that it was not heard by the others. “It appears to be a holographic projection, sir.”
“That I can figure out for myself, Data,” Picard whispered. “What I need to know is whether or not these images are genuine.”
“Understood, sir.”
The first image dissolved into another image, this time of the Chiarosan soldiers leading villagers down a road. Their captives-people of all ages-were bound, with half-meter tethers holding each of them together from neck to neck. That hologram changed to another, this one showing a soldier bayoneting an older man in the back as he stood at the edge of a long trench dug into the soil. Lying in the trench were the bodies of many others, their gray blood oozing from wounds in their backs or sides, or from slit throats. Thick clouds of insects buzzed above the corpses.
Data leaned in again. “While it is possible to forge any scene with holographic technology, I believe these images are taken from real events. The slight focus problems and partial blockage in these images implies that the person or persons recording them were in concealment.”
But a clever forger could fake that as well, Picard thought. Still, it did seem real enough to raise his concern.
Picard stepped forward, tugging at the bottom of his tunic. “General Falhain, I believe we have seen enough for the moment. Despite your conviction that we are siding wholeheartedly with Protector Ruardh, it seems that some doubt has been raised about the manner in which she governs her people. None of these images, nor this information, were ever presented to the Federation Council-“
“There’s a good reason for that, Captain,” Ruardh said, imperiously spitting out the final word as though it left a bad taste in her mouth. “The reason is that these images are partially a fabrication, and partially the work of Falhain himself. As you