The Reichenbach Maneuver 
From: bbbehr@sunspot.noao.edu (Bradford B. Behr)

 Below find a spec script that I submitted to Paramount for their
 consideration. It was, alas, not selected to become a real TNG
 episode, but it was a lot of fun to write, and hopefully will be
 enjoyed by anyone who ftp-retrieves it. I'd be really psyched to get
 feedback, even a one-line email saying "Cool story!" or "It sucked!"
 I can be reached at bbbehr@sunspot.sunspot.noao.edu.


Mucho danke,


  Brad

-----------------------------------------------------------------


                                  STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION

                    "The Reichenbach Maneuver"



                        story and script by

                           Bradford Behr


                           with help from

                           Andrew Skinner





                  Copyright (c) 1993 by Bradford Behr


---------------------------------------------------------------------

TEASER
------

FADE IN:

EXT. SPACE Q THE ENTERPRISE AND A STARBASE (OPTICAL)

The Enterprise is parked near a Starbase, with a generic planetary
surface in the background. Shuttlecraft and smaller ships buzzing
about.

                        PICARD (V.O.)
                Captain's log, stardate 47445.6. The
                Enterprise has arrived at Starbase
                218 to take on replacement crew in
                preparation for a visit to Bullfinch
                IV, a non-aligned planet near
                Cardassian space.
                        (beat)
                In light of recent maneuvers by the
                Cardassian fleet, Starfleet has
                ordered the Enterprise to the sector
                to "show the flag" and hopefully
                forestall any Cardassian aggression.
                We are also transporting assorted
                Starfleet personnel to the region.
                        (beat)
                With the ship heading into potentially
                hostile territory, I am particularly
                aware of the absence of Lt. Cmdr.
                Data, who is on leave attending a
                cybernetics symposium at the Daystrom
                Institute. His steady hand at the
                helm will be sorely missed.


INT. TRANSPORTER ROOM

Riker is standing by the transporter pads. Behind the control
console is a transporter engineer, and a few Ensigns stand by the
door. The transporter pads shimmer, and assorted new crewbeings
appear, including Specialist Tas O'Donel, a mousy-looking
character, although no particular attention is drawn to him. They
step down.

                        RIKER
                Welcome to the Enterprise! I'm
                Commander Riker, the First Officer.
                The ensign here [he gestures at one
                by the door] will show you to your
                quarters. There will be a welcoming
                mixer for the new crew at
                point-eight, and familiarization
                briefings when you report to your
                department supervisors tomorrow
                morning.

He nods to the Ensign, who escorts the newcomers out the door.
When they are gone, Riker lets out a breath and sags a little.

                        RIKER
                    (to transporter engineer)
                How many more groups?

                        TRANSPORTER ENGINEER
                    (smiles)
                Just two more, sir. Won't be long now. I...
                    (console beeps)
                One moment, sir.
                    (beat)
                We're getting a command priority
                transport signal, sir. One to beam
                over from the Starbase.

                        RIKER
                    (straightens)
                Very well. Energize.

Admiral Kyzyl shimmers on to the pad. He is an older man, wearing
the usual admiral tunic.

                        RIKER
                Attention on deck!

                        KYZYL
                As you were, Commander. Permission to
                come aboard?

                        RIKER
                Of course, sir. I'm very sorry,
                Admiral, I had no idea you were
                beaming aboard, or we'd have arranged
                a more appropriate reception...

                        KYZYL
                Hardly necessary, Commander, nor
                expected. Until five minutes ago, I
                had no idea I'd be coming aboard. Is
                the Captain available?

                        RIKER
                Yes, sir, I'll take you right to him.
                    (to transporter engineer)
                Get those last two groups on board.
                Notify me when transport is complete.

The transporter engineer nods an okay.

                        RIKER
                    (to Kyzyl)
                This way, sir.

Riker and Kyzyl exit


INT. READY ROOM

Picard is at his desk, reading from his desktop display. The door
chimes.

                        PICARD
                Come!

The door opens, and Riker steps in.

                        RIKER
                Admiral Kyzyl, sir.

                        PICARD
                Admiral! I was just notified of your
                arrival.
                    (stands and comes around desk to shake Kyzyl's hand)
                I'd have met you when you beamed aboard...

                        KYZYL
                ...had you known I was coming, but you
                didn't, and neither did I until I got
                a rather urgent communique from
                Starfleet Security about ten minutes
                ago.

RIKER's eyebrows go up.

                        PICARD
                Regarding our mission?

                        KYZYL
                Indirectly. More accurately, regarding
                your newly assigned crew. One of them
                is a Cardassian spy. Better get your
                command staff together.

Picard and Riker react with no small measure of surprise.

FADE OUT.

END OF TEASER.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

ACT ONE
-------

EXT. SPACE - ENTERPRISE AND STARBASE

(a few seconds for episode title, guest stars)

INT. BRIEFING ROOM

The standard command crew, with the exception of Data, is seated
around the table: Riker, Crusher, Laforge, Worf, Troi. Picard
stands by the head chair, which he has given to Kyzyl for the
briefing. We come in with the briefing already underway.

                        CRUSHER
                    (startled)
                A spy?!?! On the Enterprise?!

Everyone else but Picard and Riker are reacting with similar
surprise, except for Worf, who is both surprised and pleased. A
worthy quarry of his security skills!

                        KYZYL
                Yes, Doctor. More exactly, a
                Federation citizen who decided to
                sell out to the Cardassians. For what
                reason? Unknown. Probably money. But
                the particular motive is not
                important at this point. It can be
                determined after you catch the spy.

                        LAFORGE
                After _we_ catch the spy?
                    (Worf's predatory grin, although subtle,
                    gets noticeably wider.)
                Excuse me, Admiral, but isn't this
                more of a job for Starfleet
                Counter-Intelligence?
                    (Worf glares at Laforge but is unnoticed
                    by anyone else.)

                        KYZYL
                I suppose so, but the top brass at
                Headquarters has put the ball in our
                court. They are none too confident in
                Counter-Intelligence right now, and
                with good reason. It took them over a
                week to even discover the theft in
                the first place.

                        PICARD
                Theft? What was stolen?

                        KYZYL
                Yes, I'm getting ahead of myself. My
                apologies.
                    (beat)
                Three days ago, the security staff at
                the Command Starbase for this sector,
                at Beta Pavonis VII, turned up
                evidence of an unauthorized access of
                the strategic planning computer
                cores. Quite a panic ensued, I am
                sure, since defense plans for this
                entire sector are developed and
                stored at that facility. Further
                study of the computer logs showed
                that only one file block had been
                compromised, that with files
                pertaining to the Minos Korva
                system.
                    (Picard shifts uncomfortably. Deanna notices.)
                The access was very cleverly hidden,
                so it is not all that surprising that
                it took so long to discover. In fact,
                they were lucky to discover it when
                they did -- it could have gone months
                without detection, if not for a
                particularly alert systems programmer.
                We have to assume we're dealing with
                an individual with extensive computer
                expertise.
                    (beat)
                We can also safely assume, I think,
                that the individual in question would
                be in something of a hurry to reach
                Cardassian space with this
                information. Attempting a direct
                border crossing would be fraught with
                risk. A more likely route would be
                via a nearby non-aligned system, such
                as Bullfinch. It has no strong ties
                to the Federation, and regular trade
                with Cardassian planets. Once there,
                it would be a simple matter for the
                spy to secure passage to Cardassia.
                As the Enterprise is headed to
                Bullfinch IV, we think it likely that
                the spy would utilize this means to
                reach safe haven.

                        RIKER
                    (slightly incredulous)
                Are you suggesting, sir, that the spy
                will attempt to stow away on the
                Enterprise?

                        KYZYL
                No, no, not at all. Much too risky and
                uncertain. No, the spy is one of your
                officially assigned new crewpersons
                or passengers.

                        PICARD
                It seems unlikely that the spy could
                arrange to be assigned to the
                Enterprise on such short notice...

                        KYZYL
                Given. More likely, the data theft was
                executed only after notification of
                the assignment to the Enterprise.
                With a ready means of escape at hand,
                the spy then made his move.

Picard nods. Sounds plausible...

                        WORF
                Then, sir, what we must do is review
                the list of crew transfers and
                passengers, identify those who were
                stationed at, or visiting, the
                Command Starbase at the time of the
                theft...

                        KYZYL
                Already done, Lieutenant...

                        WORF
                ...and these are our suspects.

                        KYZYL
                Exactly. There are four.
                    (He activates the wall display,
                    showing a Starfleet personnel dossier
                    page. The ID photo is of a youngish
                    Vulcan male.)
                Lt. Sralev, regularly stationed on the
                Intrepid, temporarily detached to the
                Enterprise to study modifications and
                upgrades to your computer protocols.
                He was on the Command Starbase for an
                entire week prior to the break-in,
                and being a computer specialist,
                might have had the means to
                circumvent the core security.

                        BEVERLY
                But being a Vulcan, he should be above
                suspicion.

                        KYZYL
                Despite their reputation for
                trustworthiness, the Vulcan race has
                had its share of dissenters and even
                traitors. The decision to join the
                Federation was not an easy one, and
                even to this day there is a small but
                vocal minority on the planet who are
                "morally and ethically" opposed to
                Starfleet's military role. Much as
                we'd like to, we cannot rule out Lt.
                Sralev on the basis of his planet of
                origin.
                    (Clicks to next display, a dossier
                    page showing a lumpy-headed blue
                    individual. Highly evident are two
                    high ridges or tubular structures on
                    the back of the neck, twin external
                    brainstems.)
                Lt. An'riikh'ta, a Metaakan. His
                planet just recently joined the
                Federation, and the Lieutenant is one
                of its first representatives in
                StarFleet. He is joining your
                                exobiology department. His dossier
                                suggests no unusual computer skills,
                                but he _was_ on the Starbase at the
                                time of the theft. He's scheduled to
                                arrive here soon, so you should
                                expect him to beam aboard within the
                                hour.
                    (Next display, an attractive human
                    female, in Security yellow.)
                Lt. Cmdr. Raisa Albion, of Starfleet
                Command. She is visiting Bullfinch to
                evaluate tactical threats and
                responses, should the Cardassians
                attempt to annex the system. She was
                previously stationed at the site of
                the data theft, and would thus be
                familiar with security procedures
                there.
                    (Next display, a different (i.e.
                    non-Starfleet) format dossier,
                    showing a sort of mousy-looking
                    guy.)
                Specialist Tas O'Donel. He'll be going
                on from Bullfinch IV to Bajor, DS9
                specifically, to join an
                archeological expedition to the Gamma
                Quadrant. As you see, he is not a
                member of Starfleet, and has not
                undergone the rigorous security
                screening of the others. However,
                like Lt. An'riikh'ta, he has no
                record of anything but a rudimentary
                level of computer expertise.

                        PICARD
                So the spy is one of these four.

                        WORF
                    (rising)
                I will initiate a search of their
                quarters immediately.

                        KYZYL
                One moment, Lieutenant. What are you
                going to look for?

                        WORF
                    (pauses, puzzled at the obvious question)
                The missing data solids, of course.

                        KYZYL
                Aha. Unfortunately, the missing data
                solids were later found at the
                Starbase, wiped clean. The data was
                evidently transferred to another
                medium, and we have no idea what form
                it might be in now -- a personal
                disk? a book? It might even be encoded
                to a photo holocube. And the spy
                might be using an unwitting innocent
                crewmember to smuggle the data. A
                physical search would thus be
                difficult and yet would not serve to
                convict the spy. Starfleet wants more
                than to simply retrieve the stolen
                data. We need to capture this spy, to
                discourage any other potential
                traitors.

Worf sits, deflated a bit.

                        TROI
                Could the data have been memorized by
                the spy before it was erased from the
                data solids?

                        KYZYL
                Not in any significant detail. The
                broad outlines of the defense
                strategy, perhaps, but this would be
                of little use to the Cardassians, and
                there is no known mnemonic technique
                that could have assimilated the
                entirety of the stolen files.

                        CRUSHER
                Even Vulcan mind-disciplines?

                        KYZYL
                Mmmmmm... possible. A good point, Doctor.
                    (turns to Picard)
                Something to keep in mind, Jean-Luc.
                Sorry to dump this in your lap, but
                you and your crew seem to be the best
                chance to plug this leak. Hopefully,
                the spy will make a mistake before
                you reach Bullfinch.
                    (stands)
                You'll be wanting to depart soon. I'll
                get out of your way. Good luck,
                Jean-Luc.
                    (to everybody)
                Good luck.

                        EVERYBODY
                Thank you, sir. Yes, sir. Etc, etc, etc.

Riker escorts Kyzyl to the door, summons ensign waiting nearby.

                        RIKER
                See the Admiral to Transporter Room 3.

Riker returns to his place at the table. Picard has retaken the head
chair.

                        PICARD
                Well. Suggestions?

                        WORF
                I still think we should search their
                quarters. And question them.

                        TROI
                I disagree. That would serve only to
                put the spy on guard. At this point,
                he -- or she -- doesn't know whether
                the break-in has been discovered. If
                there is no visible sign of pursuit,
                the spy may relax prematurely and
                grow careless. A subtle approach
                would be much better.

Worf is grudingly impressed with such grasp of espionage strategy.

                        PICARD
                A good thought, Counselor. From a
                different angle: could you use your
                empathic ability to identify the spy?

                        TROI
                Probably not. Emotional undercurrents
                of guilt or nervousness, perhaps, but
                I doubt that a trained espionage
                agent would display very much of
                either. And I'd be unable to
                distinguish the cause of such
                feelings, even if I _did_ detect
                them.

                        CRUSHER
                And in the case of the Metaakan, I
                doubt you'd sense very much at all.
                I've read initial reports about them
                in the recent literature; they're a
                fascinating study in divergent
                nervous system development. Some of
                you may have noticed the twin
                external brainstem structures. The
                internal cortical organization is
                similarly bifurcated, not unlike the
                Ferengi. And like the Ferengi, they
                are largely unreadable by Betazoid
                empathic or telepathic sensing.
                    (beat, she raises an eyebrow)
                An useful trait for a spy.

                        PICARD
                But still not sufficient evidence that
                he actually _is_ the spy.
                    (beat)
                Well, we have a mission to complete,
                regardless of our passenger list, and
                a departure schedule to follow. We
                will meet tomorrow to discuss this
                matter more fully. Mr. Worf, I'll
                expect a security analysis and some
                contingency options by then. And I
                recommend that all of you who are
                available stop by the welcoming party
                for the new crew this evening and
                sound out our "suspects" if you have
                an opportunity.
                    (beat)
                _Try_ not to be obvious.
                    (a pointed look directed at Worf)
                Dismissed.

They rise to exit.


EXT. SPACE - THE ENTERPRISE DEPARTS THE STARBASE


INT. 10-FORWARD

A party is in progress. Assorted crew are standing about chatting,
eating, drinking, and having a good time. Picard, Riker, and
Laforge are in with the crowd. Camera pans to Worf, who is lurking
beside/behind a large potted plant, doing a singularly poor job of
following Picard's directive for subtleness. Troi edges up beside
him.

                        TROI
                    (amused at Worf)
                I hate to disappoint you, Worf, but
                you're still visible back there. Are
                you expecting the spy to sneak off to
                a corner and set up a communications
                relay during the party?

                        WORF
                    (annoyed at Troi's amusement)
                Of course not, Counselor. I am simply...
                observing.

                        TROI
                Well, I think you'd find out a lot
                more if you got out there and mingled.
                    (Worf scowls at the concept of mingling.)
                Talk to some of our... special passengers.
                Get them talking about themselves. Maybe
                one of them will let something slip. Look,
                                Lt. An'riikh'ta is over by the onion
                                dip. Good thing he got here before we
                                departed. Go talk to him. I'm going
                                to go guard the desserts.

She moves off, in search of chocolate. Worf reluctantly abandons his
observation post and moves towards An'riikh'ta. Troi passes Laforge
and Sralev, who are deep in techie talk.

                        LAFORGE
                Yes, Data... that's Lt. Cmdr. Data...
                    (Sralev nods -- he's heard of Data)
                and I modified some of the
                control interlinks in the optical
                processor cores to improve the access
                speeds. We were able to gain a few
                percent over the standard configuration.
                We based the redesign on the structure
                of Data's own neural nets. Dr. Soong was
                a pretty clever guy...

                        SRALEV
                Yes, I had anticipated being able to meet --
                and study -- your Lt. Cmdr. Data. But I
                understand that he is on leave.

                        LAFORGE
                Yeah, he's at the Daystrom Institute for the
                next two weeks.

                        SRALEV
                How unfortunate.

Troi sees Crusher alone nearby and makes her way over, dessert in
tow. Crusher has her doctor coat on.

                        TROI
                Hello, Beverly. You don't look dressed for
                the occasion.
                    (indicates the doctor coat)

                        CRUSHER
                No, I just stopped by briefly to grab a bite.
                I have two hundred new crew members to
                run physicals on in the next three days,
                and Sickbay is _not_ ready.
                    (lowers her voice)
                Have you met any of our... friends?
                    (meaningful glance at Troi)

                        TROI
                    (smiles at the doublespeak)
                Just Lt. An'riikt'ka.
                    (she gestures over to where An'riikh'ta is
                    talking a blue streak at Worf)

                        CRUSHER
                And?

                        TROI
                I didn't sense a thing. There may be a
                very low level of emotional resonance
                being masked by the presence of so
                many others, but I don't think so. As
                you hypothesized, he's a blank to me.
                But a very friendly fellow, from what
                I could tell.

Crusher nods, as her hypothesis is borne out, then scans around the room.

                        CRUSHER
                Well, it certainly looks like Will is keeping
                a close guard on one of our suspects.

She indicates a corner where Riker and Albion are chatting. Riker is
in charm mode Warp 9, and Albion is reciprocating fully. They're standing
fairly close together, too.

                        TROI
                    (with mischievous look to Crusher)
                I think I'll go say hi.

                        CRUSHER
                    (a little smirk back)
                You do that. I'm headed back to work.

Troi nods goodbye as Crusher exits. Troi heads across the room towards
Riker and Albion.

                        TROI
                Hello, Will.

                        RIKER
                    (reacts to Troi's voice with smidgeon of a
                    guilty start)
                Deanna! I'd like you to meet Lt. Cmdr. Raisa Albion.
                Counselor Deanna Troi.

They shake hands.

                        ALBION
                       (coolly)
                Hi.

                        TROI
                    (trying to be polite)
                How do you do? What brings you to the Enterprise?

                        ALBION
                Just catching a ride to Bullfinch IV. Starfleet
                Command wants an evaluation of security issues
                in the system. But in the meantime, I plan to enjoy
                the cruise.
                    (She flashes a glance at Riker)

                        TROI
                    (amused at Riker's discomfited reaction to this
                    blatant flirtation)
                Yes, well, I'm sure you will.
                    (turns to Riker)
                Have you seen Specialist O'Donel? The captain wanted
                to chat with him about this archeological dig that he's
                going on.

                        RIKER
                No, I don't think I've seen him.
                    (he fishes a datapad out of his pocket and scans it)
                He's right around the corner in cabin 10-23, if you
                want to look for him.

                        TROI
                Thanks, I think I'll drop in on him.
                    (Nods to Albion. To Riker, slyly,)
                Enjoy the party.

Troi heads for the exit. In her way, she passes Worf, who is still
being talked at by An'riikh'ta.

                        AN'RIKKH'TA
                ...but the structure of the Klingon liver is
                most remarkable in its similarities to the
                sponge molds of Aldebaran III. I've always
                found the parallels most fascinating. I can
                show you some samples if you like...

Worf glares helplessly at Troi as she passes -- look what you got me
in to! She just waves and proceeds to the door.


INT. DOOR TO GUEST QUARTERS

Troi signals at the door. A lengthy pause. Then the door opens to
O'Donel. He does not look at all well -- equal parts worry and nausea.

                        TROI
                Specialist O'Donel?

                        O'DONEL
                    (on his guard)
                Yes?

                        TROI
                    (smiling, trying to put him at ease)
                I'm Deanna Troi, Ship's Counselor. We
                realize you're only with us as far as
                Bullfinch IV, but I thought you might
                like to stop by the welcoming party
                in 10-Forward and meet some of the
                crew and your fellow passengers...

                        O'DONEL
                Oh. Well, um, thanks, but I'm... not really
                much of one for parties.
                    (He smiles wanly, evidently eager to retreat
                    back into his room.)

                        TROI
                Are you alright, Specialist? You don't look
                well...

                        O'DONEL
                    (straightening up, trying to look fit)
                No, no, I'm just fine.

                        TROI
                Dr. Crusher is down in Sickbay right now.
                I'm sure she'd be glad to look you over if
                you're feeling poor.

                        O'DONEL
                No, I'm ok. It's just... I'm... I don't
                enjoy travelling.
                    (He moves to close the door.)

                        TROI
                    (not convinced by his explanation)
                Well, I hope you're feeling better tomorrow.
                Good night.

                        O'DONEL
                Good night, Counselor.


INT. GUEST CABIN

O'Donel closes the door and moves back to his bunk. He takes a
personal picture holocube from his bedside table and looks at it
longingly. It depicts a bucolic country scene, probably Earth, with
river and forest. He clutches it to his chest and looks forlorn.

FADE OUT

END OF ACT ONE

---------------------------------------------------------------------

ACT TWO
-------

INT. BRIEFING ROOM

The command crew is assembled for the morning discussion of the spy
search: Picard, Riker, Crusher, Troi, Worf, Laforge are seated
around the table.

                        PICARD
                Well, I gather that you all had a
                chance to at least put in an
                appearance at last night's function.
                I saw most of our possible spies in
                attendance as well.
                    (beat)
                Geordi, you spent a good deal of time
                talking with our Vulcan visitor.
                Impressions?

                        LAFORGE
                Well, Captain, spy or no, he certainly
                knows his optical processor systems.
                He had some pretty sharp ideas about
                further reconfigurations of our
                computer core interlinks. I tried to
                get him talking about larger core
                systems he'd worked on, like those on
                Starbases, but he kept steering the
                conversation back to the Enterprise
                systems. Not like he was being
                evasive, just... focused on his
                current assignment.


                        PICARD
                Pretty typical for a Vulcan... Did
                anyone else talk with Sralev?

                        RIKER
                I did, but only briefly. He seemed to
                lose interest as soon as he realized
                I wasn't a technical expert.
                    (he smiles at this)
                So I'd certainly agree with Geordi's
                assessment that he's "focused" on his
                assignment.

                        PICARD
                Any readings from Sralev, Counselor?

                        TROI
                Just the steady low emotional baseline
                I sense in most Vulcans, Captain.
                Sralev's would be best described as a
                cool curiosity. I couldn't tell any
                more than that, given the background
                noise from everybody else present.

                        PICARD
                    (nods, then)
                And Lt. An'riikh'ta, our Metaakan
                friend? Anything from him?

                        TROI
                As Beverly expected, not a thing.
                    (she frowns, puzzled)
                In fact, I didn't even sense his
                presence. Usually, even with races
                like the Ferengi, the neural activity
                is present, but indecipherable. But
                this Metaakan was just... a void.
                    (turns to Crusher)
                Is this mentioned in the literature?

                        CRUSHER
                I don't know. I'll have to run a search and
                let you know later.
                    (she makes a notation on her datapad)

                        PICARD
                I only talked with him briefly. He
                seemed quite friendly and talkative.

Troi turns to Worf, who acknowledges her look.

                        WORF
                Yes, I found him _quite_ talkative. He
                went on at length about my liver.
                    (Worf looks disgusted)

Eyebrows go up all around the table.

                        PICARD
                Indeed, Mr. Worf?

                        WORF
                Yes, he compared it to a... his
                description is unimportant. I did
                manage to ask him about the use of
                computer systems analysis in his
                exobiology work. He claimed no
                particular skills in that regard.

                        RIKER
                As his file says...

                        PICARD
                No surprises there, then. Or
                indications of suspicion?
                    (Worf shakes his head no.)
                Well then. Our Security
                representative, Lt. Cmdr. Albion. I
                talked with her for a short while.
                Very congenial. I found her a very
                friendly sort.

                        TROI
                    (with a side glance at Riker)
                Yes sir, you're not the only one.
                    (Riker fidgets)
                I met her when she was talking with
                Commander Riker
                    (a little emphasis on the title)
                and she was very sociable.

                        PICARD
                Any empathic impressions?

                        TROI
                    (furrows her brow in recollection)
                Amusement.

                        RIKER
                    (a little defensively)
                Well, it was a fun party.

                        TROI
                No, not that she was necessarily
                enjoying the entertainment. More that
                she was amused... by us. Almost...
                scorn, although that's much too
                strong a word.

Riker looks dubious.

                        CRUSHER
                Maybe our little party wasn't up to
                Starbase standards...

                        TROI
                Possibly... I have no way of knowing
                for sure.

                        PICARD
                And finally our archeologist
                passenger, whom I did not see all
                evening. Did you manage to track him
                down, Counselor?

                        TROI
                Yes, he had stayed in his cabin,
                claiming to be "not much one for
                parties." He looked dreadfully ill
                when I talked to him, but said he was
                fine. He certainly seemed upset or
                nervous about something.

                        WORF
                Perhaps he has something to hide and
                was unnerved by the unwelcome
                attention.

Worf's expression shows what he thinks of people who become "unnerved."

                        CRUSHER
                Or perhaps he really was ill. Some
                people just don't like to travel.
                I'll give him a closer look if he
                reports to Sickbay. What was your
                impression, Deanna?

                        TROI
                Just a general undefined nervousness.
                I couldn't tell what it might have
                been directed towards.

                        PICARD
                No particular leads at this time,
                then, it seems. Mr. Worf, this
                exercise would appear to be largely
                your baliwick. Security
                recommendations?

                        WORF
                None at this time, sir. Since the
                spy's intent is escape, and his
                primary defense is anonymity, I would
                not expect him to do anything to draw
                attention to himself, so danger to
                the ship or crew is unlikely. I have
                increased security patrols in
                sensitive areas as a precautionary
                measure only. I will continue to keep
                the four suspects under observation.

                        PICARD
                Very good. Anyone else?
                    (turns to Crusher)
                Any opinion from the Medical
                Department, Doctor?

                        CRUSHER
                Aside from wanting to get a firsthand
                look at An'riikh'ta's neural
                physiology, I have no medical input
                for the situation.

                        PICARD
                Engineering input, Geordi?

                        LAFORGE
                I'll be spending a lot of time with
                Sralev over the next week. I'll stay
                alert in case he lets anything slip
                about Starbase computer cores, but I
                doubt he'd make an error like that if
                he were the spy.

                        PICARD
                    (nods, then)
                I'd still really like to hear about
                this Gamma Quadrant dig from O'Donel.
                I'll schedule a little chat with him
                later today in my ready room.
                    (beat)
                And Lt. Cmdr. Albion? Is someone
                available to sound her out further?

                        RIKER
                I... am scheduled to meet her for
                lunch today.

A few smirks around the table. Picard catches on to Troi's earlier
comment.

                        PICARD
                    (with a smile)
                I see. I'll expect a full report,
                Number One.

                        RIKER
                Uh... yes sir.

                        PICARD
                    (back to business)
                That concludes our planning session, I
                believe. We'll just have to remain
                vigilant and hope that fortune smiles
                upon us.
                    (beat)
                We'll meet tomorrow at the same time
                to discuss any progress. Dismissed.

All rise.


INT. EXOBIOLOGY LAB

A small but well-equipped laboratory room. It is in a state of
disarray, as it is being set up. An'riikh'ta is unpacking equipment
and setting up. He is being very methodical, almost mechanical. The
door chimes. He immediately starts acting differently, sort of
perky.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Enter, please!

The door opens and Crusher enters partway, remaining in the
doorframe. An'riikh'ta straightens and comes from behind his lab
bench to greet her, exuding eagerness and anxiousness in equal
amounts.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                    (with a little head-bob motion, sort of
                    a mini-bow)
                Good afternoon, you are if I am not
                mistaken Doctor Beverly Crusher Chief
                Medical Officer of the USS
                Enterprise. I am pleased in making
                your acquaintance. Welcome to my
                laboratory space. How may I assist
                you in the purpose of your visit to
                me? Would you like to see cell
                samples from a Terran stoat? They are
                most fascinating!

                        CRUSHER
                    (finally getting a chance to speak, smiling)
                Yes, Lt. An'riikh'ta, I am Dr.
                Crusher. I just wanted to stop by and
                welcome you to the Enterprise, since
                I didn't meet you at last night's
                party. Are you settling in OK?

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Oh, yes, most OK, thank you. There is
                much to prepare to render my
                laboratory in a fully functional
                condition but I am finding everything
                necessary for my doing so.
                    (hopefully)
                My stoat cells are right here...

                        CRUSHER
                    (smiling politely)
                I must return to work myself. Perhaps
                some other time. I also stopped by to
                remind you to come by Sickbay for
                your physical sometime soon. As a new
                member of the crew, we need to run a
                quick medscan for our files.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Oh, yes, most assuredly, Dr. Crusher.
                I will attempt to do so as soon as it
                is logistically feasible. As you see,
                I am most overcome with
                organizational duties at the current
                time.

                        CRUSHER
                I understand. Sometime today or
                tomorrow morning, though, be sure to
                stop by. It'll be quick.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Oh, yes, Doctor.

He manages something approximating a smile. Crusher responds in kind
and exits. An'riikt'ha's demeanor immediately reverts to its
original stiffness as he goes back to unpacking.


INT. READY ROOM

Picard is seated at his desk, working away. The door chimes.

                        PICARD
                Come!

O'Donel enters, somewhat hesitantly, even more so when he notices
the real window behind Picard's desk. He hangs near the door.

                        O'DONEL
                You, uh, wanted to see me, sir?

                        PICARD
                    (smiling, trying to be welcoming)
                Yes, Specialist O'Donel, please, come
                in, sit down.
                    (O'Donel complies, but slowly)
                I was hoping to hear a little more
                about this dig you're going to in the
                Gamma Quadrant.

                        O'DONEL
                Yes, sir.

A pause, as Picard waits for O'Donel to continue, which he doesn't.

                        PICARD
                    (explaining his interest, hoping to get
                    O'Donel talking)
                Archeology is something of a hobby of
                mine. I studied with Professor
                Galen for a while, and I try to keep up
                with the current literature. Are you
                expecting any influence from
                proto-Bajoran cyclic glyphs on the
                other side of the wormhole?

                        O'DONEL
                    (distracted, trying to avoid looking at the
                    window but not be impolite to the Captain)
                Um, that might be, sir. I have some
                papers on the subject that you can
                read...

                        PICARD
                    (getting a little impatient)
                Who is leading the team?

                        O'DONEL
                    (fidget, fidget, fidget)
                Uh, that would be Dr. Quulnar, from
                the Andorian Institute of
                Prehistorical Cultures. Sir.

                        PICARD
                Yes, I've read some of his work. Never
                met the fellow. Is he a good site
                leader?

                        O'DONEL
                I don't know, sir.

                        PICARD
                    (tiring of this "conversation")
                Well thank you, specialist.
                    (strained smile)
                It's been most interesting talking to
                you. Good luck with the expedition. I
                look forward to reading about your
                findings in the journals.

                        O'DONEL
                Yes, sir, thank you sir.

He turns and exits as fast as politely possible. Picard does his
wide-eyed inhale-exhale my-wasn't-that-fascinating-NOT expression.


INT. 10-FORWARD

An'riikh'ta is sitting alone at a table, eating something Metaakan,
no doubt. 10-Foward is moderately busy. Albion enters, spots
An'riikh'ta, gets a drink at the bar, and then approaches
An'riikh'ta's table.

                        ALBION
                Excuse me, Lt. An'riikh'ta?

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                    (somewhat startled at being addressed)
                Yes? Lt. Commander! Good day.
                    (he stands, awkwardly)
                I studied carefully the command staff
                of this ship when I was assigned but
                you I do not recall from this study.
                Are you as well new to the Enterprise?

                        ALBION
                    (smiling)
                Yes, I'm just a passenger. Raisa Albion.

She sticks out her hand. An'riikh'ta hesitates fractionally, then they
hake hands. An'riikh'ta tosses in his little bow-greeting, and then
sits abruptly when he realizes that she's already seated herself.

                        ALBION
                I hope you don't mind if I join you, but
                Captain Picard mentioned that you had just joined
                the exobiology department on board...?

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Yes, that is correct information. I am very
                excited to be travelling aboard this ship to
                many exciting new planets to study the many
                different organisms living at these places.

                        ALBION
                    (feigning fascination)
                Wow. That's really exciting. I've always
                been fascinated by the biological diversity
                in the galaxy, but
                    (looks dejected)
                I didn't have the scientific background to
                study exobio at the Academy.
                    (perks back up)
                I'd love to see your lab sometime, though!

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                    (wow, someone who _wants_ to hear about my work!)
                Oh, but most certainly! I have many exciting
                samples I can show you. Did you know that
                Rigellian sand-weevils have _four_ separate
                olfactory sensory systems?

                        ALBION
                    (wide-eyed)
                That's astounding!

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                    (warming to the subject)
                Why yes, it is due to their highly chemically
                complex environment...

The door swooshes open, and Albion turns to see Riker enter the
room. She waves, and then turns back to An'riikh'ta.

                        ALBION
                I'm sorry, I have to go right now. But
                as I said, I'd love to see your lab and hear
                more about the Rigellian sand-weevil. When
                can I stop by?

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Oh, I am still unpacking my equipment and
                preparing it for its use, but any time
                would be convenient for me.

                        ALBION
                    (smiling)
                Thanks. I'll see you later.

An'riikh'ta stands and mini-bows as she leaves the table. She goes
over to Riker, who is waiting at the bar, and they leave the room
together. An'riikh'ta returns to his food.


INT. ENGINEERING

Worf on patrol. Dimmer lights, and only a skeleton staff, suggesting
that it's later in the "evening." He nods to the engineering crew on
duty, and is moving on when his keenly sensitive hunter's ears
detect a scuffling sound from one of the dark side corridors. Worf
tiptoes (insofar as a Klingon can manage such a feat) towards the
noise and peers around the corner.

Sralev is down at ground level, an access hatch at his side. He is
peering into the conduit, a portable light in one hand and some
tool in the other. Worf's eyes widen at the sight of his quarry,
and he stealthily rounds the corner and approaches, his hand on his
phaser at his belt. He is within 3 or 4 meters of Sralev when
Laforge speaks from within the conduit.

                        LAFORGE
                Sralev, shine the light up here, will
                you? Yeah, right there. You see the
                crossover patch we installed here?
                The folks who put this in at our last
                overhaul hooked up the power leads
                with the wrong phasing, and instead
                of taking it out entirely, which
                would have disabled the port sensor
                suite for a day or more, we just
                inserted some phase delay loops
                here... and here. It's a crude fix,
                but it'll hold us until we're next in
                drydock.

                        SRALEV
                I see. Very ingenious.

Sounds of motion, and Laforge emerges from the hatch and spots Worf,
who has assumed a somewhat less threatening stance.

                        LAFORGE
                Oh, good evening Worf. What are you doing here?

Sralev turns, showing no surprise (that acute Vulcan hearing
probably knew of his approach), and nods to Worf. Worf nods back.

                        WORF
                Good evening, Mr. Laforge. I was...
                taking a stroll. I'll be on my way.

                        LAFORGE
                    (already starting to replace the access panel)
                OK, Worf. See you.

With a last steely glare at this Vulcan who had the temerity to not
be engaged in some nefarious deed, Worf turns and departs. Sralev
watches him go with a rather intense focus as Laforge finishes
replacing the hatch.


ACT THREE
---------

INT. CORRIDOR NEAR TURBOLIFT

Riker and Albion are at a corridor junction.

                        ALBION
                    (smiling)
                Thanks. That was fun. I've never been
                to Alaska.

                        RIKER
                    (smiling also)
                My pleasure.
                    (he presses the turbolift "up" button as
                    he continues to talk to her)
                The holodeck is a nice diversion. I
                don't know how they got by without in
                the old days.
                    (beat)
                Duty calls. I'm on the conn until
                point-eight.

                        ALBION
                    (smiling coyly)
                Find me when you're off duty.

                        RIKER
                I'll do that.

The turbolift arrives, and the door opens on Troi, who is apparently
on her way to the bridge as well. The women see each other and
exchange a wary look.

                        RIKER
                Until then.

                        ALBION
                Bye.

He steps into the turbolift and notices Troi for the first time.

                        RIKER
                Counselor.

                        TROI
                Commander.

The door closes.

INT. TURBOLIFT

A few moments silence, then Troi speaks.

                        TROI
                You seem to be spending a lot of time
                with Lt. Cmdr. Albion.

                        RIKER
                Yes, I am. She's a fascinating person.
                    (beat)
                Is that a problem?
                    (a slightly combative edge to his voice)

                        TROI
                    (turns to face him fully)
                She _is_ a possible traitor to
                Starfleet, Will.

                        RIKER
                I haven't forgotten.
                    (beat)
                We're supposed to be keeping a close
                watch on all four of them, right?
                That's what I'm doing.

                        TROI
                Your interest in her has progressed
                considerably beyond the requirements
                of duty, Will. It's fairly evident,
                even to a non-empath.

                        RIKER
                So why is that a problem?

                        TROI
                Because emotional attachment can
                interfere with professional
                objectivity.

                        RIKER
                There's nothing wrong with my
                objectivity, Counselor.

                        TROI
                No?
                    (Riker looks daggers at her, she returns
                    the look, and then relents)
                Look, Will, I'm not trying to get in
                the way. I just would hate to see
                your emotional condition jeopardize
                our assignment.
                    (beat)
                Or vice versa.

                        RIKER
                It's okay, Deanna. I've got it under
                control. Besides, you don't _really_
                think she's a likely suspect, do you?

                        TROI
                    (looking forward, not at Riker)
                I do. She's my top candidate.

INT. BRIDGE

The door opens before Riker can reply, and Troi steps briskly out on
to the bridge. Riker, after a moment's hesitation, follows. Riker
takes the conn from Worf, who is in the center seat.

                        RIKER
                    (moving towards center seat)
                I have the conn, Mr. Worf.

                        WORF
                Aye sir.

                        RIKER
                Report. Navigation status?

                        WORF
                    (standing to relinquish the seat)
                On schedule, sir. We passed Hamaoka
                and Waikaloa two point five hours
                ago. Proceeding at warp six to
                Bullfinch system. ETA in twenty-two
                hours.

He gives a meaningful look to Riker, indicating "we're running out
of time." Riker gets the message and nods, taking the seat. Troi
takes her post in the adjacent seat.

                        RIKER
                Thank you, Mr. Worf. You are relieved.

Worf nods and heads for the turbolift.

INT. TURBOLIFT

Worf rides alone for a bit. At a lower floor, the door opens and a
few crew get on. They acknowledge Worf; he grunts in reply, deep in
thought about the spy problem. More people get on at the next
floor. Through the open door, Worf spies An'riikh'ta walking down
the corridor. Worf reaches abruptly to hold the door open,
startling the other passengers, and then he steps out.

                        WORF
                    (mumbled, as an afterthought)
                Excuse me.

He follows An'riikh'ta at a distance, trailing him.

INT. CORRIDOR

An'riikh'ta is passing through a crew quarters section when he
encounters a young ensign who is stabbing futilely at his external
room keypad. Something is evidently amiss and he can't get in to
his room. An'riikh'ta stops.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Are you encountering difficulties?

                        ENSIGN
                Yes, sir, my door controls seem to be
                jammed.

An'riikh'ta steps to take a closer look at the panel. He makes a few
experimental keypresses.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Oh, it seems to be stuck in a reset
                loop. Press Alpha-Zero-Clear...
                    (he does so, the panel chirps
                    cooperatively)
                ...and the keypad system returns to
                its power-up state. Re-enter your
                access code, and it will work as
                before.

                        ENSIGN
                    (rather impressed)
                Thank you sir. I'll remember that.

An'riikh'ta does his little head bob/bow and continues down the
corridor while the ensign enters his room. Worf has witnessed the
whole encounter from the other end of the corridor, and his facial
expression reflects his realization of the implications of his
observations.


INT. HYDROPONICS BAY

Rows of leafy plants (mostly green, but some non-terrestrial exotics
as well) are growing in bins. Maybe some condensation on the walls
to give the impression of an opaque greenhouse.

The door opens and Laforge enters with a Botanist Ensign.

                        ENSIGN
                Yeah, the two port condensers keep
                going off line. We can't figure it
                out. Thanks for coming down and
                looking at them.

                        LAFORGE
                Hey, sure.
                    (he takes out an engineering tricorder)
                I'll see what I can do.

The ensign retreats and leaves Laforge to work. He approaches the
first condenser unit, studying the tricorder readings and mumbling
to himself.

                        LAFORGE
                Hmm... power source looks OK. Humidity
                sensor subsystem... yeah. I wonder...

He moves towards the other condenser and almost trips over O'Donel,
who is sitting on the floor with his eyes closed. O'Donel jumps to
his feet, startled and flustered.

                        O'DONEL
                I'm... I'm terribly sorry. I... I'll
                go right now.

He starts to leave.

                        LAFORGE
                No, no, that's OK. Sorry to disturb you.

He gives O'Donel an odd look, then turns back to his tricorder. He
continues to talk, though, trying to put O'Donel at ease.

                        LAFORGE
                Lots of people like to come down here
                to enjoy the plants.

O'Donel relaxes minutely and moves back towards his corner hideaway.

                        O'DONEL
                Yeah. I like it here.
                    (beat)
                It feels solid and safe. Almost like
                being on land.

                        LAFORGE
                    (with a calculating look at O'Donel)
                Yeah, I could see that.
                    (beat)
                Me, I prefer the holodeck. More variety.
                But I can see how the real thing would
                appeal to some folks.

O'Donel shudders a bit at the thought of the holodeck. He sits and
hugs his knees, and is quiet while Laforge opens a condenser hatch
and fiddles with the innards.

                        O'DONEL
                Will we be getting to Bullfinch IV soon?

                        LAFORGE
                Yeah, later this evening. Why?

                        O'DONEL
                    (not meeting Laforge's look)
                Um... I'm just eager to get to the excavation.

Laforge nods slowly, then makes some final adjustments to the
condenser.

                        LAFORGE
                    (to himself)
                There, that should do the trick.
                    (to O'Donel)
                I'll see you around.

O'Donel smiles wanly at Laforge and then goes back to staring at the
wall. Laforge gives him a last dubious look and then exits.


EXT. SPACE - THE ENTERPRISE

1701-D is zipping along in warp.

                        PICARD (V.O.)
                Captain's Log, Stardate 47448.35. We
                are but 11 hours from arrival at
                Bullfinch IV. Our deadline fast
                approaches, and we are in dire
                need of a significant breakthough
                in our mission.


**INT. ENGINEERING

Laforge and Sralev are poring over some technical diagrams.

                                                LAFORGE
                                        (casually, as he scans some panels)
                                I notice you've already filled up
                                almost of quad of primary storage
                                with your guest account in the
                                computer.

                                                SRALEV
                                Yes.

                                                LAFORGE
                                        (waits for further response, then contin
ues,
                                        still trying to just make small talk)
                                Files you brought with you? Reference
                                materials?

Sralev looks faintly insulted, as though reliance on reference
materials is a major moral failing. Laforge looks back at him until
the Vulcan is impelled to elaborate.

                                                SRALEV
                                I have been making notes on your
                                systems. A number of modifications
                                and improvements have occurred to me.
                                I will inform you of my results when
                                my studies are complete.

Laforge nods and goes back to work. Picard enters Engineering, sees
the pair, and heads over.

                                                PICARD
                                Mr. Laforge?

The two techies straighten from their work. Sralev nods to
acknowledge the Captain.

                                                LAFORGE
                                Yes, sir?

                                                PICARD
                                May I speak with you for a moment?

                                                LAFORGE
                                        (catching on)
                                Right away, sir.

He leaves Sralev and he and Picard confer in low voices a few meters
from Sralev, who continues to work, although the tilt of his head
and slant of his eyes indicates that he can overhear them.

                                                PICARD
                                We appear to be making little headway
                                in our... special assignment. It
                                seems likely that we will have to
                                initiate a physical search to attempt
                                to recover the missing items. I'd
                                like you to come up with some means
                                of identifying any hidden patterns in
                                any storage medium that Security
                                might discover.

                                                LAFORGE
                                I've already had some ideas along that
                                line, Captain. I'll start
                                implementing them right away.

                                                PICARD
                                Very good.

Picard exits. Laforge returns to where Sralev is assiduously studing
the tech charts.

                                                LAFORGE
                                The Captain's put me on a special
                                assignment. You're welcome to go look
                                at the sensor buffer banks yourself,
                                if you like.

                                                SRALEV
                                Is this special assignment something
                                in which I may assist you?

                                                LAFORGE
                                Uh, no, that's OK. It's a pretty
                                straightforward little task.

Sralev nods and departs. Laforge watches him go, wondering how to
read his response. Then he shrugs and turns to his new task.


**INT. BRIEFING ROOM

The command crew is once again gathered around the table.

                        PICARD
                                Our spy continues to elude us, I
                                presume?

                        WORF
                Yes, sir.

                        PICARD
                Any leads at all?

                        WORF
                                Well, sir, I witnessed Lt. An'riikh'ta
                                correctly diagnose and correct a door
                                keypad error on crew quarters level
                                17. Given his reported low level of
                                computer proficiency, I find this...
                                anomalous.

                        CRUSHER
                That certainly sounds suspicious.

                        PICARD
                I get the impression, Doctor, that
                you think our Metaakan friend the
                primary suspect.

                        CRUSHER
                He's certainly been reluctant to
                come in for his physical examination.
                I've sent him memos, dropped by his
                lab -- everything short of issuing
                him a direct order -- and he still
                hasn't reported to Sickbay. I think
                he's trying to hide _something_.

                        PICARD
                That may be, but it's hardly compelling
                evidence.
                    (beat)
                Anything from Lt. Sralev, Geordi?
                Any response from him to our
                little conference?

                        LAFORGE
                No, sir. He offered to help, but
                didn't react strangely when I turned
                him down. At least, not that I
                could tell. As you'd imagine, he's
                a tough one to read.
                        (beat)
                But I did run into
                Specialist O'Donel in the hydroponics
                bay on Deck 23.

                        PICARD
                Indeed? What was he doing there?

                        LAFORGE
                Just sitting, best I could tell.
                He seemed to find it a comfortable
                place. Although I couldn't shake the
                feeling that he was trying to hide
                from something.

                        PICARD
                Mmm.
                    (beat)
                Any other observations, or suspicions?
                    (He looks around the table. Negative headshakes
                    all around.)
                In that case, it seems we have no
                choice but to institute a search of
                the visiting and new crew quarters.

Most of the command crew react with surprise.

                        WORF
                    (sotto voice)
                Finally.

                        RIKER
                    (to Picard)
                I thought we'd determined that a
                search would be fruitless. The data
                could be encoded in practically any
                form.

                        PICARD
                Yes, but Lt. Cmdr. Laforge has
                developed a possible means to detect
                such encoding. Geordi?

                        LAFORGE
                Right, Captain.
                    (beat)
                I've adapted a transporter molecular
                scanner system with a pattern-
                recognition algorithm. Any sort of
                information-bearing medium, be it
                holographic, or magnetic, or optical,
                or molecular, can be scanned by this
                apparatus, which will search for
                regular patterns in unexpected
                locations on the medium. Given the
                known quantity of data in the missing
                files, we'll be able to detect any
                block of encoding of that size in
                anything we scan. _Assuming_ that the
                data is recognizable as a pattern; it
                could conceivably follow some
                algorithm that makes it look like
                random proton orientations, or
                something. In that case, the search
                program would miss it. But I'm hoping
                that the spy didn't have time to
                create something that subtle when he
                transferred the data to its current
                format.

                        RIKER
                Can this device of yours scan objects
                remotely?

                        LAFORGE
                No, we have put each object in the
                containment chamber for scanning.

                        RIKER
                So we'll actually have to do a
                room-by-room search. How do we
                explain that to the crew?

                        CRUSHER
                    (with a ironic smile)
                I don't think they'll buy the health
                and safety inspection routine.

                        PICARD
                No, they won't. I think the best
                approach would be to explain to them
                exactly what it is we're looking for,
                and why.

                        WORF
                But that will tip off the spy.

                        PICARD
                The spy will be alerted anyway when we
                start our search. At least this way,
                we can enlist the cooperation of the
                rest of the crew, to keep an eye out
                for any suspicious behavior.

                        TROI
                What if the spy attempts to move the
                data from his or her quarters? Or has
                already done so?

                        PICARD
                In the former case, security should
                search anybody who is carrying anything
                from the area of the crew quarters.
                    (he eyes Worf; Worf nods)
                In the latter case, we'll just have to
                keep searching.
                    (beat)
                I really can think of no other options
                available to us at this point. We may
                not be able to catch the spy
                red-handed, but we will at the very
                least recover the data.
                    (beat)
                Agreed?

Grudging nods from around the table.

                        PICARD
                Very well. Mr. Laforge, prepare your
                scanning apparatus. Mr. Worf, get
                your security crews moving to the
                crew quarters levels. Start with the
                new crew, and cover Albion's,
                An'riikh'ta's, O'Donel's, and
                Sralev's cabins among the first, but
                without focusing exclusively on them.
                You know what to tell your staff to
                look for. I'll make the announcement
                to the crew.
                    (beat)
                The rest of you, do whatever you can
                to assist in the search process. We
                are running perilously short on time.


INT. CORRIDOR

Assorted crew are going about their business when Picard comes over
the public comm channel. They stop and look up at the ceiling as
they listen.

                        PICARD (V.O.)
                Attention all hands, this is the
                Captain. We have been informed by
                Starfleet Counter- Intelligence of
                the possibility that highly
                classified material is being
                illegally transported aboard the
                Enterprise. In an effort to recover
                this material, Security teams are
                initiating a room-to-room search,
                starting with the quarters of our
                newest arrivals. Please cooperate
                with them to the best of your
                ability, so we can resolve this issue
                as swiftly as passible.

INT. ANOTHER CORRIDOR

Albion, nearing her own quarters, hears the announcement. She reacts
with concern and anger (oh, shoot!) and almost runs the rest of the
way to her cabin.

INT. ALBION'S CABIN

She rushes in and closes the door. Without bothering to turn on the
lights, she reaches behind some piece of furniture and retrieves a
holocube. She looks around the room, spies a small duffle, and
stuffs the cube into it. She then returns to the door, opens it,
and cautiously peers out. A security team is a few tens of meters
down the hall to the right, deploying to search the rooms. With
another silent curse, Albion hesitates, and then lobs the bag into
the adjoining corridor across the hall from her door, out of sight
of the security team. She straightens her uniform, takes a deep
breath, and steps smartly out into the corridor, turning _towards_
the team. A few look up as she approaches, note that she is
carrying nothing, and straighten to attention as they realize she's
(1) at Lt. Cmdr., and (2) Security.

                        ALBION
                I'm glad to see you've started so
                quickly. Can I offer any assistance?

                        TEAM LEADER
                Thank you, ma'am, but we've got
                everything under control.

                        ALBION
                Very well. Carry on.

She turns on her heel and strides off. As soon as she rounds the
corner and is out of sight of the team, she stoops to pick up the
bag with the holocube and continues on to the turbolift.


INT. AN'RIIKH'TA EXOBIO LAB

An'riikh'ta is still unpacking; things are looking only slightly
more orderly. The door chimes.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Please enter!

Albion enters the room, the bag no longer in evidence, the holocube
hidden behind her back. She smiles at the Metaakan.

                        ALBION
                Hello, Lt. An'riikh'ta.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Lt. Cmdr. Albion. I am pleased to have
                you come visit my laboratory place.
                How may I be of assistance to you at
                this current time?

                        ALBION
                Oh, I was just on my way down to
                10-Forward and I thought I'd stop in
                and say hi, see how you were doing.
                Still unpacking, huh?

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Yes indeed, it is a most lengthy
                procedure. But I am pleased to stop
                briefly to be hospitable to visitors
                such as yourself. Would you like to
                view some Romulan bloodroot seeds?

                        ALBION
                    (turning on the charm)
                Oh yes! I'd love to see those. If it's
                convenient.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Oh most certainly. One moment.

He moves to a lab bench and starts digging though a pile of sample
containers. As his back is turned, Albion scans the shelves behind
him, finds an appropriate hiding place, and deposits the holocube.
When An'riikh'ta turns back around, she is just standing there,
smiling cheerily. He gestures to the microscope viewer as he starts
to lecture:

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                The external casing of the bloodroot
                seeds, is you can see, is formed by a
                collagen lattice bonded to the
                epidermal underlayer...

                        ALBION
                    (peering into the viewer)
                Oh, yes, that's the greenish region?

---------------------------------------------------------------------

ACT FOUR
--------

INT. BRIDGE

Picard is hunched in the center seat, waiting. Riker is beside him.
Silence weighs heavy on the bridge, with just the blips and beeps
of the consoles, until the turbo lift opens and Worf steps out on
to the bridge.

                        WORF
                Captain.

                        PICARD
                    (raising his weary head)
                Yes, Mr. Worf? What news?

                        WORF
                We have completed scans of all data
                media found in new and visiting crew
                quarters. We detected no anomalous
                data patterns.

Picard closes his eyes and heaves a deep sigh. Riker looks similarly
disheartened.

                        PICARD
                Helm, time until our arrival at
                Bullfinch?

                        HELMSMAN
                Thirty minutes to standard orbit, sir.

Picard ponders this. Pregnant pause.

                        WORF
                Orders, sir?

                        PICARD
                    (straightens, his resolution returning)
                We can't give up. Not yet. Helm,
                standard orbit when we arrive.
                Computer!
                    (chirp, twiddle)
                Command authority lockout of all
                transporters, all shuttlecraft.
                Authorize Picard, Jean-Luc, Captain, code
                six-six-four-theta-theta-three-one-nine.
                Confirm.

                        COMPUTER (V.O.)
                All transporters, all shuttlecraft,
                now inoperative under command
                authority lockout.

                        PICARD
                Mr. Worf, mobilize your entire
                security staff. We'll have to search
                the ship from stem to stern. Get on
                it.

                        WORF
                Aye, sir.

(He turns and leaves.)

                        PICARD
                Number One, assemble all our
                Bullfinch-bound passengers in the
                briefing room. I'll have to explain
                the delay to them.

                        RIKER
                Yessir.


**INT. BRIEFING ROOM

Albion and O'Donel and a handful of others are listening to Picard.
Riker and Troi hover in the background. O'Donel stares nervously,
not at any of the officers, but at the big window.

                        PICARD
                ...so I'm afraid that transport to the
                surface will have to be delayed until
                we resolve the situation.
                    (holds up his hand for silence as the group starts to
                    complain)
                I know that many of you have schedules
                to meet, other ships to catch, and
                such. But we simply cannot allow
                anyone off the ship until the ship is
                searched and those materials are
                recovered. I'm sorry.

Grumbling amongst themselves, the group stands and starts to leave.
O'Donel shuffles off, morose and dejected more than anything.
Albion approaches Picard, looking angry and determined.

                        ALBION
                Captain.

                        PICARD
                Lt. Commander.

                        ALBION
                Sir, I appreciate the constraints of
                the situation as it stands. But
                Admiral Ince of Command Security is
                expecting me to report in from
                Bullfinch within the hour and
                commence this evaluation and review.
                It is a very time-critical mission,
                sir.

                        PICARD
                I understand that, Lt. Cmdr. Albion.
                But we simply cannot risk any surface
                transportation.

                        ALBION
                But sir...

                        PICARD
                    (getting a little peeved)
                The matter is closed.

                        ALBION
                    (anger abruptly swings to near-tears)
                Yes sir.
                    (turns and stalks out)

Picard gestures for Riker to follow Albion and make sure she's OK.
Riker exits. Picard turns to Troi.

                                                PICARD
                                Impressions, Counselor?

                                                TROI
                                From Albion, anger and frustration,
                                as I'm sure you could tell. It was
                                a genuine reaction, although her
                                response was slightly forced.
                                        (beat)
                                O'Donel, I'm still not sure about.
                                He was in a near-panic for most of
                                the meeting...
                                        (Picard raises an eyebrow: Aha!)
                                ...even before you explained the
                                delay. His reaction to that news
                                was one of despair, not panic.

                                                PICARD
                                If not fear of capture, then, what
                                was causing him such distress?

                                                TROI
                                I couldn't tell, sir, but it did
                                _not_ seem to be directed towards
                                you or Cmdr. Riker or me. It wasn't
                                we who were scaring him. It was...
                                something larger, more nebulous,
                                all-encompassing.

Picard scowls in puzzlement. Troi shrugs.


INT. CORRIDOR

Albion is stalking along. Riker, having to jog-trot, finally catches
up with her.

                        RIKER
                Hey, hey, slow down.

                        ALBION
                    (spins around, vents her anger)
                That damn pompous fool.

                        RIKER
                    (frowning at this attack on Picard)
                Now wait just a second...

                        ALBION
                    (anger leaves her suddenly, just looks tired)
                I'm sorry, Will. I'm just tired and
                all wound up and...

She puts a hand to her forehead and sags a bit, overcome by it all,
and eliciting Riker's sympathy. He gives her a supportive hug.

                        RIKER
                I think you just need to relax a bit.
                Let's go to 10-Forward and have a
                drink. I'll bet the transport lockout
                will be released within the hour.

Albion smiles wearily up at him.

                        ALBION
                Thanks, Will. I just want to go back
                to my quarters and sleep for a bit.

                        RIKER
                Okay. C'mon, I'll walk you there.

They proceed down the corridor.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE ALBION'S CABIN

They arrive at her door. She still looks weary.

                        ALBION
                Wake me if surface transport is
                restored, okay?

                        RIKER
                Of course.

Albion pauses, plants a quick kiss on Riker's lips, and then retires
to her cabin. Riker smiles his Real Wide Grin (TM) and strolls away.

Moments after he disappears, Albion's door opens again and she peeks
out. There is no sign of weariness or fatigue -- she is alert and
intently focused. She glances both ways and takes off down the
corridor at a hurried pace, two tricorder-like boxes in her hands.

INT. EXOBIOLOGY LAB

The room is dark -- only dim lighting lets us identify it as
An'riikh'ta's lab. The door chimes. There is no response. It chimes
again. Again, nothing. Then it chirps and burbles in an abnormal
fashion, and the door grinds open. Albion is standing there with
one of her boxes, which evidently has forced the door lock somehow.
She swiftly steps into the darkened room, returning that box to her
belt and turning on a hand flashlight. She steps over to the
shelves where he hid the holocube and gropes around. It's not
there.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Are you looking for your holocube,
                Lt. Cmdr. Albion?

She spins around. The Metaakan is standing there, in the shadows,
with the holocube in one hand and a phaser in the other. She steps
towards him, aggressively, but he brandishes the phaser and she
stops.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                This is what Security is searching
                for, is it not? You hid it here so
                that they would not find it within
                your quarters, is that not so? And
                you wish to take it now and escape to
                the planet below us.

Albion says nothing, just keeps glaring at An'riikh'ta.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                    (chuckles)
                Oh, you are thinking that I intend to
                report you to Mr. Worf. No, that is
                not what I plan.
                    (Albion frowns in confusion)
                Whoever you are taking this holocube
                to below us on Bullfinch will want it
                very much, and will pay for its
                delivery. Will pay me. Tell me who
                you were to contact.
                    (Albion gives him a "go to hell" look. He
                    raises the phaser.)
                Do not tell me and I will kill you and
                take the holocube to Mr. Worf. I will
                be rewarded and you will be dead. Or
                tell me how to find your contact on
                Bullfinch, and I will stun you and
                you can make a story for Mr. Worf
                about how you tried to stop me but I
                escaped. Choose.

He waits. She continues to stare angrily at him but then deflates.

                        ALBION
                Alright. It's a complicated contact
                procedure. Let me write it down.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                    (gesturing with the phaser)
                There is a datapad on the lab bench.

Albion reaches for the datapad, but instead grabs a flask of some
noxious-looking chemical and hurls it at An'riikh'ta. It catches
him in the face and he stumbles. Albion is on him in an instant.
They struggle briefly, until Albion reaches his external brainstems
and rips them off. He twitches and falls, limp, to the floor.

She stands, breathing heavily, and then picks up the phaser and the
holocube, and rushes from the room.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE TRANSPORTER ROOM

Albion reaches the door at a dead run. She hammers at the keypad.

                        COMPUTER (V.O.)
                This transporter room in under command
                authority lockout.

She pulls her lockpick-box from her belt and fiddles with it. The
door opens.

                        COMPUTER (V.O.)
                This is an unauthorized access of this
                facility. Cease immediately. You are
                in violation of Starfleet Regulations
                35-12 through 35-14, 37-9, 47-23,...

The computer continues to drone on as Albion goes to the control
console, programs it, and moves towards the transporter pads.

INT. BRIDGE

Worf at tactical, Picard, Riker, and Troi in their seats. The
tactical console beeps. Worf scans it.

                        WORF
                Sir, we have a unauthorized access of
                Transporter Room 3! Your command
                lockout has been overridden.
                    (pause, then with even more alarm)
                The transporter has been set for a
                single beamdown to the surface! I am
                attempting to abort.

                        PICARD
                    (perks up, but is nonchalant)
                At ease, Mr. Worf.
                    (Worf and Riker and Troi all look at Picard as though
                    he's lost his head)
                Do not interfere with the transport.
                Assemble a security team to meet us
                at Transporter Room 3. Number One,
                Counselor, will you join me?
                    (they rise, unsure what's going on)
                Lt. Staalchi, you have the conn.

They head for the turbolift.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

ACT FIVE
--------

INT. TRANSPORTER ROOM

Picard, Riker, Troi, Worf stride up to closed door. Four security
guards are already there, awaiting the arrival of the command
delegation. One of them reports to Worf.

                        SECURITY GUARD
                Sir, I've already examined the door
                panel. It was forced by an emergency
                override signal from some external
                source.

                        WORF
                Rrrr. (a throaty growl) Phasers on
                stun. Standard room entry doctrine.
                    (turns to Picard)
                Just to be sure, sir.

Picard nods. Worf and his men draw their phasers. Worf nods to the
man at the door panel. The door opens, and they burst in to the
room, spreading out to cover all corners. But it is empty.

                        WORF
                    (from inside room)
                All clear, sir.

                        PICARD
                    (entering room with Riker and Troi)
                As I expected.

INT. TRANSPORTER ROOM

Worf is already checking the control console. Picard et al join him.

                        WORF
                Beamdown coordinates were set to a
                populated region of the surface -- a
                city. There's no way we can follow
                him...
                    (he picks up a comm badge from the panel)
                ...or track him.

                        TROI
                Or her.

Riker gives her a sharp look. Worf looks again at the panel, and is
puzzled by something he sees there.

                        WORF
                But there is a subprogram running in
                the transporter system. Command level
                alpha-one.
                    (He looks at Picard quizzically)
                Yours, sir.

                        PICARD
                    (almost jauntily)
                Indeed, Mr. Worf. Deploy your people
                around the transporter pad.

Worf nods to his security people, who surround the platform. Picard
presses some buttons on the console, then issues a voice command.

                        PICARD
                Computer!
                    (chirp-twiddle)
                Execute retrieval routine, transporter
                subprogram Ariadne's Web,
                authorization six-nine-three-
                nine-nine-three-seven-five.

He turns towards the transporter pad.

                        COMPUTER
                Transporter transmission, intercepted
                at 0.672, retrieved and now
                rematerializing on pad 4.

Albion sparkles on to the platform. She is rather distressed to
notice that she's still on the Enterprise instead of on the
Bullfinch surface, as she had planned. She draws her phaser and
points it at Picard. The security folks, caught off guard, attempt
to draw their weapons.

                        ALBION
                DON'T try it!

They freeze.

                        ALBION
                    (angry and frantic)
                Why the hell am I still on this ship?

                        PICARD
                Command-level intercept subprogram on
                the transporter. You were held in the
                matter buffer until we arrived and
                retrieved you. The game is up, Lt.
                Cmdr. Albion.

                        ALBION
                No! Beam me down. Now! Or you die.

She brandishes the phaser. Picard stares at her resolutely, not at
all intimidated by her threat. Riker, Troi, and Worf are somewhat
less certain that they're not going to be toast.

Then the door opens again and An'riikh'ta walks in, his spinal
columns dangling. Albion whirls to bring the phaser to bear on this
new threat, and then gapes when he realizes who it is. Everybody
else in the room is pretty startled too, given the condition that
the Metaakan is in, except for Picard, who smiles.

                        PICARD
                Glad you could join us, Lieutenant.

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                    (in a somewhat different voice than ever before)
                Thank you, sir.
                    (to Albion)
                I suggest you put down the phaser, Lt.
                Commander, and surrender peacefully. Your
                escape attempt is indeed finished.

                        ALBION
                    (still very shaken)
                But... but... I killed you! I ripped
                your brainstems out! You're dead!

                        AN'RIIKH'TA
                Your conclusion is predicated on the
                assumption that I am an actual
                Metakkan. That is not the case.

Data removes his Metaakan disguise. Jaws drop all over the room,
then spreading grins as Troi, Riker, and Worf catch on to the whole
scheme.

                        PICARD
                Welcome back, Mr. Data.

Data nods acknowledgement to Picard, and then approaches Albion, who
is staring madly at him. He reaches out to take the phaser. Albion
suddenly comes out of her shock and smiles coldly at him.

                        ALBION
                Goodbye, Mr. Data.

She fires the phaser at his head. It beeps dully and does nothing.
Albion presses the trigger again and again, with no result.

                        DATA
                I took the precaution of disabling
                that phaser before your arrival at
                the exobiology lab.

Albion realizes she's been totally outfoxed, and hurls the useless
phaser at Data. He catches it easily and continues to affix her
with his yellow stare. Worf moves up beside Data and gestures to
his security crew, who take Albion into custody and march her off
the pad. As she is led out, she looks hopefully at Riker, but there
is no sympathy in his expression. She looks at Troi; Troi looks
more smug than anything. Albion, Worf, and Security exit the room.


INT. BRIEFING ROOM

The whole command crew is now present, Data having shed the rest of
his disguise. Debriefing is underway.

                        DATA
                I had reached StarBase 111 en route to
                the Daystrom Institute when I was
                intercepted by a representative of
                Starfleet Counter-Intelligence, who
                briefed me on the data theft and CI's
                expectation that the spy was joining
                the Enterprise. They urged me to
                return here immediately to assist in
                the investigative effort, but I
                proposed this alternative plan, based
                upon a fictional work with which I am
                familiar. I am most gratified that
                the strategem was as effective in
                actuality as it was in the novel.

                        RIKER
                But how could you be sure that Albion
                would choose your laboratory to hide
                her holocube?

                        PICARD
                Well, Number One, we _weren't_ sure.
                We did our best, however, to make
                "Lt. An'riikh'ta" appear an ideal
                pawn to all of the other three
                suspects, and then force him or her
                into action via the cabin searches.
                Fortunately, Lt. Cmdr. Albion took
                the bait. She figured that
                An'riikh'ta's lab would serve as a
                safe hiding place, at least until we
                reached Bullfinch IV, and that his
                apparent naivete would make him
                unsuspicious of her visit to his lab.
                    (beat)
                Mr. Data played the role of a wide-
                eyed "country bumpkin" to perfection.
                Albion apparently never suspected
                that he might be other than he
                seemed.

                        CRUSHER
                    (shaking her head in amazement)
                Nor did we. An impressive bit of
                acting, Data. I'll expect you to try
                out for the lead of our next play.

                        DATA
                Thank you, Doctor, although had I been
                called upon to assume a more human
                guise, I would have found it much
                more difficult. Since few, if any, of
                the Enterprise crew had even met a
                Metaakan, I had considerable leeway
                in the parameters of my masquerade.
                    (beat, we looks slightly apologetic)
                I regret that I had to keep my
                identity secret from all but the
                Captain. Counter-Intelligence Command
                was of the opinion, however, that I
                would be most effective if I were
                fully... "undercover."

                        LAFORGE
                But once Data found the holocube,
                wouldn't that have been enough to
                identify the spy?

                        PICARD
                Perhaps. But Starfleet wanted to
                insure a watertight case. We thought
                it best to apprehend the spy
                red-handed, in the act of beaming
                down over a command lockout.

                        CRUSHER
                What about Specialist O'Donel? Since
                we're now sure he's not the spy, why
                has been exhibiting such levels of
                apprehension?

                        LAFORGE
                Judging from what he said and how he
                was behaving in the hydroponics lab,
                I'd say he's scared of something outside
                the ship.

                                TROI
                Or perhaps nothing outside the ship.
                        (Laforge and others look at her quizzically)
                During his entire time on the
                Enterprise, he's stayed in his cabin,
                or locations deep inside the ship, like the
                hydroponics bay. He's avoided 10-Forward,
                and been highly agitated when summoned
                to the Captain's Ready Room and here, to
                the briefing room.

                                WORF
                        (catching the gist of Troi's observations)
                Locations which all have external viewports.

                                TROI
                Exactly. As an archeologist, he'd been rooted
                in the solid ground his whole life. I think
                he's scared by the concept of being surrounded
                by empty space.

Nods around the table. Sounds eminently plausible.

                        PICARD
                And Lt. Sralev?

                        LAFORGE
                Oh, he's still plugging away down in
                Engineering. Those "notes" he's been
                storing in the computer? He turned
                them over to me just a short while ago,
                and that's exactly what they are. He's
                generated at least a quad and a half of
                "suggestions" for computer modifications
                to the Enterprise systems. Some pretty
                clever ideas, too. But no defense plans.

                        PICARD
                Well. I believe that covers everything.
                Any last points?
                    (no response)
                Very well. Dismissed.

All stand and head for the door. Worf is just in front of Data. As
Worf reaches the doorway, he turns and glares at Data.

                        WORF
                My liver?!?!

He grunts disgustedly and stalks off. Data exchanges a look with
Troi, raises his eyebrows in an expression of mild chagrin, and
then exits and well. Troi smiles widely and exits.

FADE OUT

END OF ACT FIVE


-------------------

Some notes:

- The "fictional work" that Data alludes to in the last scene is the
final confrontation between Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty,
which takes place at Reichenbach Falls in the Austrian Alps. Go read
the story, and the parallels with this script should be apparent.

- Had this episode been filmed, I'd have suggested to Paramount that
they snip Brent Spiner (Data) from the opening credits, and list "Ernst
Perbin" as a guest star playing An'riikh'ta.
