Brother John Bates,
is that not the morning which breaks yonder?
I think it be.
But we have no great cause to desire the approach of day.
- Who's there? - A friend.
Under what captain serve you?
Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.
I pray you,
what thinks he of our estate?
Even as men wrecked upon a sand
that look to be washed off the next tide.
He has not told his thought to the king?
No.
Nor 'tis not meet he should.
For though I speak it to you,
I think the king is but a man, as I am.
The violet smells to him as it doth to me.
In his nakedness, he appears but a man.
Therefore his fears, out of doubt, be of the same relish as ours are.
Yet no man should possess him with any appearance of fear,
lest he, by showing it, should dishearten his army.
He may show what outward courage he will,
but I believe, as cold a night as 'tis,
he could wish himself in Thames up to the neck.
Methinks I could not die anyplace so contented as in the king's company,
his cause being just and his quarrel honorable.
That's more than we know.
Or more than we should seek after.
If his cause be wrong,
our obedience to the king wipes the crime of it out of us.
But if the cause be not good,
the king himself hath a heavy reckoning to make
when all those legs and arms and heads chopped off in a battle
shall join together at the latter day and cry all, "We died at such a place."
The king is not bound to answer the particular endings of his soldiers,
the father of his son, nor the master of his servant.
Splendid, Data, splendid.
- You're getting better and better. - Freeze program.
Thank you, sir.
I plan to study the performances of Olivier, Branagh, Shapiro and Kullnark.
Data, ah,
you're here to learn about the human condition,
and there is no better way of doing that than by embracing Shakespeare.
But you must discover it through your own performance,
not by imitating others.
Riker to Picard. Sorry to interrupt, sir.
Go ahead, Number One.
Sensors are picking up an unidentified craft in the Neutral Zone.
It's heading toward Federation space.
We're on our way. Picard out.
We'll, uh, get to the rest of the act another time, Data.
Computer, file program and clear.
Captain, why should a king wish to pass as a commoner?
If he is the leader, should he not be leading?
Listen to what Shakespeare is telling you about the man, Data.
A king who had true feeling for his soldiers
would wish to share their fears with them on the eve of battle.
Sir, will I be able to schedule a performance
for the crew in the near future?
- Let's not rush it, shall we? - Hmm.
Outpost Sierra Six confirms our readings, sir.
They identify it as a Romulan scout ship, bearing 270-mark-14.
Scout ship? What would a scout ship be doing this far in the Neutral Zone?
Captain, shall we transmit a warning to withdraw, sir?
- Open a hailing frequency. - Aye, sir.
- Captain, the Romulan is hailing us. - Visual.
- Not within range yet. - Open a channel.
Federation ship, do you read?
I require urgent assistance.
This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS...
Federation ship, please, help me.
Requesting asylum. Under pursuit.
- Pursuit? - Visual range. On-screen, captain.
Space, the final frontier.
These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise.
To explore strange, new worlds,
to seek out new life and new civilizations,
to boldly go where no one has gone before.
Red alert. Open a channel to the warship.
Come to intercept course. Keep us out of the Neutral Zone.
Channel is open.
How long before they cross over into Federation territory?
Forty-one seconds, sir.
Romulan warbird,
this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation vessel Enterprise.
You have crossed into the Neutral Zone
and are engaged in hostile action.
Explain yourself and your intent.
- No reply, sir. - Hail the scout.
- Responding. - On-screen.
SET N; Federation craft. Please, you must help me.
We are moving to intercept. Maintain your course and power.
The scout ship is severely damaged, sir.
Engines inoperative, shields are down.
- Position? - Coordinates 140-by-205, sir.
- Federation space. - Right.
Move to within 5 kilometers.
Mr. La Forge,
prepare to extend our shields around the Romulan scout ship.
At that range, the shields won't be able to take much punishment, captain.
- Five kilometers, sir. - All stop.
- Extend shields. - In place.
We've got the scout ship, captain.
Weapons on the warbird are fully powered, sir.
- Lock phasers. Open a channel. - Ready.
Romulan vessel, you are now in Federation territory.
Unless you withdraw...
No argument?
Warbird has re-entered the Neutral Zone.
Heading toward Romulan territory.
Massive power failure to the scout ship, sir.
All systems are going off-line, including life support.
Transporter 2, prepare to beam the occupant
of the scout ship directly aboard.
- Aye, sir. - Mr. Worf.
Mr. Data, lock onto the scout ship. Take it in tow.
Energize.
I must see your captain immediately.
- We'll get you to Sickbay. After that... - This cannot wait!
I have information vital to your survival.
Captain's log, stardate 43462.5.
We have beamed aboard an apparent Romuian defector
who claims to be a tow-ranking logistics officer
with extraordinary information about a secret offensive.
The humiliating defeat at the Battle of Cheron has not been forgotten.
The new leaders have vowed to disregard the treaty
and claim the Neutral Zone.
Nelvana Ill is just the first step.
You're saying an entire base has already been established there?
Within 48 hours, the reactor core will be online.
So the Federation sensors that monitor the Neutral Zone just missed it.
It would seem so.
In two days, a fleet of Romulan warbirds
will be within striking distance of 15 Federation sectors.
The Federation will not permit that.
Then it is war that we're talking about, isn't it?
Destroy the base now and the threat is over.
Well, I'm sure you are fatigued by your ordeal
and you require medical attention.
Lieutenant Worf, will you conduct Sublieutenant Setal to the Sickbay?
We will attend to your quarters.
No doubt you will wish to question me further.
No doubt.
- Tells a hell of a story. - You don't believe it?
The Empire knows that we would never allow them
to build a base within the Neutral Zone.
Commander, that would not be an atypical Romulan ploy.
In their long history of war, Romulans have rarely attacked first.
They prefer to test their enemy's resolve.
I think he's a plant, to draw us into the Neutral Zone.
That way, we look like the aggressors.
And the Romulans would have a legitimate excuse
- for responding in force. - Exactly.
That would also not be an atypical Romulan ploy, sir.
It's always a game of chess with them, isn't it?
Well, at least he's given us a chance
to get a look at some Romulan technology close-up.
Mr. La Forge, you will lead the away team over to the scout.
Commander, you and Counselor Troi will conduct Setal's interrogation.
Captain, permission to observe the interrogation.
No, Mr. Data, I need you on the Bridge with me.
There is much to be done.
We have less than 48 hours to prevent a war.
Or perhaps to start one.
This will depend on establishing the truth...
I set the auto-destruct sequencer before I left the ship.
Why?
Wouldn't you?
To prevent your ship from being captured.
Excuse me for being a little confused, Setal,
but I thought you were defecting.
I am not a traitor.
All you can see is the opportunity to exploit me. Hmm.
The Federation credo, exploitation, heh.
Oh, you couldn't get aboard my ship fast enough, hmm?
Strip it down.
What secrets might it reveal that we can use?
You're short-sighted people.
Can't you understand?
I came to stop a war.
If you could just hold still.
With your metabolism, this will heal in a few moments.
Hmm.
Thank you, doctor.
How fortunate that you know something of Romulan medicine.
Yes, I had a chance to gain some experience recently.
Oh, yes, the incident at the Galorndon Core.
- Mm-hm. - The two officers.
You are aware of a great deal for a logistics clerk.
It was common knowledge.
I can show you my rating code.
Forged credentials are a simple matter for a spy.
How do you allow Klingon pahtk to walk around in a Star-fleet uniform?
You are lucky this is not a Klingon ship.
- We know how to deal with spies. - Remove this tohzah from my sight.
Your knowledge of Klingon curses is impressive.
But as a Romulan might say,
only a veruu/ would use such language in public.
Mr. Worf, please see to the security arrangements for our guest's stay.
Aye, sir.
You find something amusing?
Lieutenant Worf. I like him.
To be more accurate, I understand him.
A warrior. Proud, fearless, living only for combat.
Exactly the type that will get us all killed if we're not careful.
This is the food station.
You can reach me through the companel.
Later we'd like to ask you a few more questions.
Computer, water.
- Temperature? - Twelve onkians.
This system is calibrated to the Celsius metric system.
Any temperature at all on the cold side of whatever your system is.
There is no unusual activity in the Nelvana system, sir.
Let's isolate and magnify that system.
Nothing on the sensors.
It's hard to believe in what we cannot see.
And yet conceivably, with their cloaking technology,
a fleet of Romulan warbirds could be passing before our eyes.
There must be some way to neutralize this advantage.
Captain Picard, priority-one message from Starﬂeet
coming in on secured channel.
In my Ready Room.
Computer, delay time?
Two hours, 22-minute
delay from time of transmission at Starﬂeet Command on Lya HI.
Computer, key access 412-mark-80, Picard, Jean-Luc,
Starfleet priority code Gamma. Decode.
Begin message.
Captain, we have received an official protest
from the Romufan Empire demanding the return of your defector.
Obviously, we are refusing to comply.
I join in your skepticism, but if it is a deception,
the Romulans are certainty making a good show of it.
The Federation Council has convened an emergency session.
There is no doubt in my mind
that this will eventually fall on your shoulders, Jean-Luc.
You've got him.
You must decide if he's telling the truth.
For now, I suggest you proceed along the Neutral Zone border
toward a Federation position proximate to Nelvana lii.
- Picard to Lieutenant Worf. - Yes, captain?
Please, come to my Ready Room.
Aye, sir. On my way.
Slow playback.
Display engine logs and power data for both vessels.
Now watch what happens at 095433 on the clock.
The scout has sustained engine damage,
forcing him to slow to .615 impulse power.
The warship should overtake him, but it doesn't.
Now, just 2.6 seconds later,
the warship slows to precisely the same speed.
Three times, three speed fluctuations,
the warship kept its distance every time.
I don't think they wanted to catch up.
And yet they fired on the scout ship. They could have killed him.
Not necessarily, doctor.
The Romulans have the same capability
to direct the impact of their weapons as we do.
Hmm.
Is there a possibility the wound could be self-inﬂicted?
They're very bad burns. I hardly think...
A possibility?
Yes.
Captain's log, stardate 43463.7.
We are holding a position at the Neutral Zone border
proximate to Nelvana Ill.
If our guest is telling the truth, there are 21 hours left
before the Romulan base becomes functional.
The Monitor and the Hood are headed in your direction,
though they will arrive too late to be of assistance.
Warnings have gone out to ail outposts along the border
as well as several independent vessels in nearby sectors.
No one here wants a war, captain.
But we are prepared to take them on if that is what they want.
All Federation starshlps have been placed on yellow alert.
Come.
You wanted to see me, captain.
Yes, Data, I want you to prepare a class-1 probe.
Set the sensors for maximum scan.
I want every meter of Nelvana Ill monitored.
- I will start my calibrations, sir. - Data.
Is there something else you require of me, captain?
Your clarity of thought.
Your objectivity, as always.
Sit down.
Data, it's very possible that we are about to go to war.
The repercussions of what we do during the next 24 hours
may be felt for years to come.
I want you to keep a record of these events
so that history will have the benefit of a dispassionate view.
I will begin immediately, sir. Is that all?
How is the crew's spirit?
They are concerned, of course, captain, but confident.
Do you not see that, sir?
Data, unlike King Henry,
it is not easy for me to disguise myself and walk among my troops.
That'll be all.
Now if these men do not die well,
it will be a black matter for the king who led them to it.
Why must we waste time playing this ridiculous game?
There's more here than you're telling us.
You're forcing yourself to hold back.
I have told you everything relevant about Nelvana Ill.
I'm not talking about the base.
The base is all that matters.
- You're lying, Setal. - Go to Nelvana Ill and you will see.
We're not going anywhere until we get to the truth.
- You're a spy, aren't you'? - No.
Then prove it. You can begin by telling me something
about the location and the strength of the Romulan fleet.
- I don't know it. - You're a logistics officer.
For one sector only.
- Who is your superior officer? - Jarok.
The location of the Romulan bases along the Neutral Zone?
- I don't know. - In your sector?
- Irrelevant! - The number of troops
- under your admiral's command? - Irrelevant! Irrelevant!
I guess you're right.
It's not worth playing this game.
Oh, what a fool I've been,
to come looking for courage in a lair of cowards.
Captain Picard,
priority message from security officer, Klingon vessel Bums.
Mr. Worf, will you handle this at Security Station Deck 9?
Aye, sir.
Sensors are configured for planetary probe, sir.
- Ready for launch. - Proceed.
Probe on course.
Sensors are functioning.
Coordinate your analysis with Mr. La Forge.
I want this report with dispatch.
I don't know, Data. My gut tells me we ought to be listening
to what this guy's trying to tell us.
- Your gut? - It's just, uh, a feeling, you know.
An instinct, intuition.
But those qualities would interfere with rational judgment, would they not?
You're right, sometimes they do.
Then why not rely strictly on the facts?
Because you just can't rely on the plain and simple facts.
Sometimes they lie.
They can lead to the wrong conclusions, but they cannot lie.
Yeah? Well, what do you think?
Is he a defector or not?
The facts to date would lead to the objective conclusion that he is not.
Yeah, somehow I think we're gonna catch the Romulans
with their pants down on Nelvana Ill just like he says.
- "With their pants..."? - A metaphor.
Catching them in the act.
- Because your gut tells you so? - Exactly.
But you can't always go with your gut either. It's...
Well, it's a combination, Data.
All right, I'll put it to you this way.
All these feelings that get in the way of human judgment,
that confuse the hell out of us, that make us second-guess ourselves,
well, we need them.
We need them to help us fill in the missing pieces,
because we almost never have all the facts.
So a person fills in the missing pieces of the puzzle
with his own personality, resulting in a conclusion
based as much on instinct and intuition as on fact.
- Now you're getting it. - Hmm.
But what does one do if he has no instinct or intuition?
Data, look at this. The facts just took a left turn.
As the probe went into orbit around Nelvana III,
it began picking up low-level subspace radio emissions.
- Could they be naturally occurring? - No, sir.
The patterns are clearly artificial.
The signal was so faint, ship sensors couldn't read it from this distance.
- Can we decode it? - We've tried.
It's probably Romulan, but we can't be sure.
We've also picked up ionization disturbances.
Cloaked Romulan ships could produce that effect.
What about the planet's surface?
Reading nothing but barren rock. I don't know.
They might be able to hide a base from our probe. Its capabilities are limited.
The only way we'll know for sure is if we go down
and take a look for ourselves.
That will be all, gentlemen.
I take it you have never seen a Romulan before.
That would be an incorrect assumption.
Then why do you invade my privacy?
I was attempting to ascertain what my guts tell me about you.
You're the android.
I know a host of Romulan cyberneticists
that would love to be this close to you.
I do not find that concept particularly appealing.
Nor should you.
I am told by various crew members
that this viewport is their favorite on the ship.
Hmm.
I thought it would bring me some comfort.
But these are not my stars.
Even the heavens are denied me here.
Synthetic swill.
I don't suppose your food terminals
would be capable of producing a Romulan ale.
I am afraid that would require
the molecular structure of the beverage in question.
And as you are no doubt aware,
our knowledge of your planet is quite limited.
The loss is yours.
For I have visited over a hundred different worlds
and none possess the awesome beauty of Romulus.
Am I correct in assuming you regret your decision to come here?
What I did had to be done.
But never again
to see the Firefalls at Gal'gathong
and the spires of my home as they rise above the Apnex Sea at dawn...
It's a bitter thing to be exiled from your own home.
It does appear unlikely you will ever be allowed to return to your planet.
The cold reaction of an android.
But perhaps we can bring Romulus to you.
Program complete.
Run program.
After you.
The Valley of Julah.
I know it well.
You are free to stay here as long as you wish.
I no longer live here.
Turn it off.
Cancel program.
This...
This is my home now, my future.
I have sacrificed everything.
It must not be in vain.
Arrange a meeting between myself and Captain Picard.
Tell him Admiral Jarok wants to see him.
Captain, we have confirmed that you are holding Admiral Aiidar Jarok.
He has been identified as the commander
at the massacre of the Norkan Outposts.
The Council strongly advises
that you consider Jarok an unreliable source of information.
Bring him in.
Ensign, will you wait outside?
- Have a seat, Admiral Jarok. - Captain, there is no more time.
Admiral, have a seat.
You see, I'm just not convinced that you are telling the truth.
What must I do?
You must convince me.
If I had irrefutable evidence...
But you did not bring irrefutable evidence.
You brought no evidence at all.
And now, here, you are not the man you claimed to be.
Admiral, your credibility is stretched beyond belief.
A Romulan defector is almost a contradiction in terms.
But Admiral Jarok crossing the lines?
I explained my motivations to your interrogators.
Yes, yes, yes. Peace in our galaxy.
Except, admiral, you are not a man of peace.
Your military record, what we know if it, is clear.
Which is precisely why I chose an alternate identity here.
The massacres at the Norkan Outposts, for example.
What you call massacres
were called the Norkan Campaigns on my world, captain.
One world's butcher is another world's hero.
Perhaps I am neither one.
On what basis, admiral, am I to decide?
Hmm?
Your good word?
Are you willing to help us
overpower the Romulan B-type warbirds we may encounter?
Are you prepared to help us detect them through their cloaking shields?
Well, you see my problem, admiral.
You ask us for faith
in circumstances which are hardly possible to believe,
compounded by lies and your refusal to tell us what you know.
I cannot betray my people.
You've already betrayed your people, admiral!
You've made your choices, sir. You're a traitor.
Now, if the bitter taste of that is unpalatable to you, I am truly sorry.
But I will not risk my crew
because you think you can dance on the edge of the Neutral Zone.
You've crossed over, admiral.
You make yourself comfortable with that.
Do you have any children, Captain Picard? A family?
No.
Hmm.
Then you have sacrificed too much for your career.
Yes, this is all very interesting...
There comes a time in a man's life that you cannot know
when he looks down at the first smile of his baby girl
and realizes he must change the world for her,
for all children.
It is for her that I am here.
Not to destroy the Romulan Empire, but to save it.
For months, I tried desperately to persuade the High Command
that another war would destroy the Empire.
They got tired of my arguments.
Finally I was censured, sent off to command some distant sector.
This was my only recourse.
L...
will never see my child smile again.
She will grow up believing that her father is a traitor.
But she will grow up.
If you act, Picard.
If we stop this war before it begins.
I can't.
And I won't.
Unless I have unequivocal cooperation.
Admiral Jarok has provided me with the locations,
strengths and tactical plans of the Romulan fleet.
Mr. La Forge,
he is prepared to give you data regarding engines, weapons,
and the cloaking systems of the warbird-class starship.
But I believe his experience as a field commander will be more valuable
for its strategic sense than in the technical areas.
- Any edge will help, captain. - Don't depend on it.
For all we know, he may still be lying, but we shall find that out soon enough.
Number One, set course for Nelvana Ill.
Second officer's log, stardate 43465.2.
We have entered the Neutral Zone
in direct violation of the Treaty of Algeron.
Presuming Romuian warships are cloaked and monitoring us,
we expect heavy resistance as we approach Nelvana Ill.
- Tactical? - Nothing on sensors.
I don't like it. I would have expected a greeting party.
You echo another noteworthy commander
in similar circumstances, Number One.
Countryman of yours.
George Armstrong Custer,
when his Seventh Calvary arrived at the Little Bighorn.
May we have better luck.
Approaching Nelvana system.
Engage impulse engines.
Nelvana Ill on-screen.
Still no signs of them on sensors.
In a way I'd rather be fighting my way through this.
It's just too damned easy.
Prepare to enter standard orbit.
- Data? - Scanning the planet, sir.
No life forms, no power sources, no weapon systems.
- No indication of a base at all? - No, sir.
The subspace signal the probe detected?
The ionization disturbances?
I am picking them up, sir, but I cannot identify the source.
They seem to be moving in an orbital path with an 800-kilometer apogee.
Lieutenant Worf, bring the admiral up here.
Aye, sir.
Maybe they abandoned the planet after he defected.
There is no scarring on the planet surface
that would denote heavy construction of any kind.
A cloaking device of some sort, to hide the entire base?
A cloaking device operating on the surface
would be given away by visible distortion effects.
Perhaps you would care to explain why we are here, admiral.
There doesn't appear to be a base.
I don't understand.
Nelvana Ill, admiral. No base.
No weapons. No sign of any life at all.
But I saw the tactical communiqués.
The records, timetables for completion.
An entire legion was assigned to this section.
Is it possible they could have been feeding you disinformation?
You said that you had been censured, reassigned four months ago.
They knew of your dissatisfaction.
Could all this have been to test your loyalty?
No.
It's impossible.
They let you escape with an arsenal of worthless secrets.
What other explanation is there?
Permission to withdraw from the Neutral Zone.
At your earliest convenience, Number One.
Helm, bring around 180 degrees. Geordi, get us out of here.
I hear you, commander.
Two Romulan warships uncloaking.
Coordinates...
- Shields holding. - Damage.
Minor damage to the secondary hull.
Power transfer fields may be pinched off.
I'm working on it.
- Captain? - Not yet, Mr. Worf.
This is just a tap on the shoulder, or we wouldn't be here talking about it.
The Romulans are hailing us.
On-screen.
Captain Picard,
I hardly expected to see you again so soon.
It seems this time you are the one
who has made an aggressive move across the Neutral Zone.
Commander Tomalak, as I'm sure you already know,
we were responding to warnings of Romulan incursions at Nelvana Ill.
But, captain, as you can see, there is no incursion.
And the matter of the unidentified subspace radio emissions
and the ionization disturbances?
Ah, you must mean our orbiting probe.
We are studying Nelvana Ill for, uh, archaeological research.
With a cloaked satellite?
Oh, really, captain,
would you have us believe this satellite is an excuse
for your aggressive charge across the Neutral Zone?
You can believe what you wish.
And we will be on our way.
Without even an apology, captain?
If an apology will do, then I offer it.
I'm afraid it won't, so I will save you the humiliation.
Get to it, Tomalak.
You see, Picard,
after we dissect your Enterprise for every precious bit of information,
I intend to display its broken hull
in the center of the Romulan capital as a symbol of our victory.
It will inspire our armies for generations to come
and serve as a warning to any other traitor
who would create ripples of disloyalty.
All the communiqués.
All the timetables, all the records.
They were all fiction, written for my benefit, a test.
A test of my loyalty.
And you used me to lure the Enterprise into the Neutral Zone.
First, captain, you will return the traitor, Jarok.
Then you will surrender as prisoners of war.
Do you seriously expect me to accept those terms?
No, Captain Picard, I expect you won't.
You have 30 seconds to decide.
I do not require one, Tomalak.
1 urge you, Captain Picard, surrender.
Consider the men and women you would lead into a lost cause.
If the cause is just and honorable,
they are prepared to give their lives.
Are you prepared to die today, Tomalak?
Ugh, I expected more from you than an idle threat, Picard.
Then you shall have it.
Mr. Worf.
Aye, sir.
Klingon warships, armed and ready, sir.
What shall it be, Tomalak?
You will still not survive our assault.
You will not survive ours.
Shall we die together?
I look forward to our next meeting, captain.
Romulan disrupters are powering down, sir.
Cancel red alert.
Mr. Worf, will you extend the appreciation of the Federation
and my personal gratitude to the Klingons?
Aye, sir.
Take us back, Number One.
I did it for nothing.
My home.
My family.
For nothing.
He ingested a Felodesine chip.
He must have brought it with him.
I'm sorry, captain. There was no antidote.
A letter to his wife and daughter.
Sir, he must have known it would be impossible for us to deliver it.
Today, perhaps.
But if there are others with the courage of Admiral Jarok,
we may hope to see a day of peace
when we can take his letter home.