White Horse, Black Pawn

 Episode Name:  White Horse, Black Pawn

   Written By:  Starfleet

         Cast:  Edwards, Ghorev, McAnally, P'Trell and Whitehorse.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Starfleet

     Aired On:  Wed Jun 19 11:10:15 2002

     Stardate:  52423.8

Time: Thu Jun 13 00:42:03 2002

Stardate: 52408.4

P'Trell takes the Combadge.

Whitehorse gestures to a chair with one of his wide, squarish hands. "May I sit?" he asks.

Edwards drops the formal stance and nods toward Whitehorse, "By all means." He motions for the others to have at a seat, too, as he drops back down onto the sofa.

Ghorev doesn't sit, so much as lean against something, his comment still floating there in the recirculated atmosphere.

McAnally sits on a nearby chair, folding her hands in her lap again in one might be becoming familiar as her thoughtful pose.

Whitehorse sits down and leans forward to place his elbows on his knees. "You're having the same problems your crew had to their inquiries. You aren't being told enough. And I understand the feeling, because I'm right there beside you." He's certainly not taking this lightly, his voice carries a certain gravity. He glances stoically among the assembled and then goes on. "You may or may not know this, but I used to be the JAG officer for this sector before I was its Sector CO. My office prosecuted Admiral Sinclaire for her temporal crimes. So I know exactly what you want to accomplish - the end to her temporal dabbling. I am of that camp as well, frankly."

Edwards listens. He hasn't decided that he wants to be buddy-buddy just yet, but he's feeling a lot more open than he did earlier. "And you know she's playing Command like a fiddle." he comments, half question and half statement.

P'Trell says "So why cater to her now? And where does her namechange come in?"

Whitehorse nods several times to Edwards' comment. "I know they are, indeed. And why cater to her? It's Command's orders, not mine. Starfleet HQ is entirely compromised, and I plan to be there to see this conspiracy in irons. I won't rest until it is done. And mark my words, I will be there. As you will be. I've got six loyal officers who read every single word that comes out of 419 and highlight anything having to do with Sinclaire, or the artifact, or the Lithians, or the Aegis, and try to draw together evidence. Because right now, the conspiracy is larger than the evidence. It would swallow us whole."

Ghorev says "That is, of course, how they *win*, Admiral." His frown is genuine. "By making the rest of us afraid to do nothing until they've had their fill. But over and above all that, they win by making the rest of us *accomplices* in the name of orders."

Whitehorse nods at Ghorev and spreads his wide hands. "It's either wait until they are weak, Ghorev, or be swallowed. We are tadpoles going against whales. But remember, it is Sinclaire we are after." He pauses and leans back, getting comfortable in the chair. "Tyler, however, as long as Tyler does her duty without overstepping it, she is still an innocent. She does not yet know what she is, or what she will be. Sinclaire is who we are after. We are not a department of precrime."

P'Trell says "Sir, what purpose does the conspiracy serve?"

Ghorev shakes his head, clearly disagreeing, but giving P'Trell a moment to have his question asked and answered.

Edwards states simply, "She's being molded into Sinclaire. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. They're force-feeding her that power."

P'Trell says "But if Sinclaire is obviously such a problem why create her?"

McAnally nods to both Edwards and P'Trell's comments, and says, "Coddling her is only moulding her into a controlling person."

Whitehorse replies to P'Trell, "To prevent the Lithian invasion, as far as I can tell. That in and of itself could be a diversion. Molding or not, Edwards, she's still not done anything wrong. I can't arrest someone for what they're thinking about doing. Only when they've done it."

P'Trell says "What proof do we have a future Lithian invation?"

Whitehorse replies softly, "Dakin's arm."

Edwards makes a face. "I don't want to her arrest her. She's my friend. I want someone to cut the umbilical cord between her and Command." he states. "And I've seen it, P'Trell."

P'Trell says "Are either of you familiar with the Terran legend of Ragnarok?"

Ghorev shakes his head.

The old, badgeless Admiral smiles, to Edwards. "I've been working on that. They don't see but probably a quarter of what really goes on out here." He looks to P'Trell. "I am. However I would be honored to hear an Andorian's perspective on the tale."

Edwards gives P'Trell a curious glance, but says nothing.

P'Trell says "Well Odin the Terran god knew that he and his were going to die, himself at the hands of Fenris the wolf. So Odin spent his entire life trying to prevent the fall of his race but everything he tried only served to bring it about. Fenris the wolf would have had no idea who Odin was had Odin not, in an attempt to save his own skin, chained the beast up for a millennia. There are parallels that can be drawn here with the Tyler situation sir."

Whitehorse nods to P'Trell. "And I see them. And that is what the Lithian threat represents - the end of our collective races." He sighs softly. "I would be willing to entertain any suggestions you have on stopping them both."

P'Trell says "What about trying to communicate with the Lithian we have in custody?"

Edwards sighs faintly, "I'd love to do just about anything with that... Lithian, P'Trell. But, for some reason, I find it a little hard to swallow my pride and take orders from Ensigns."

P'Trell says "You aren't alone in that feeling sir."

Ghorev says "I think it's fallacy," as he folds his arms over his chest, "to continue believing that only Wendy Tyler and the Artifact can save us. I think now that the damage to the timeline has been irreversibly done and we know what we're dealing with, it's foolish to keep the Artifact elevated over everything else we do here." He pushes away from the wall with a foot and paces, arms still folded. "Because the Artifact and the Anomaly is so tied to everything we do that as clear-cut as you believe our orders are, Admiral, you're deluding yourself. The fact of the matter is that Wendy Tyler can pull rank by invoking the specter of the Artifact any time she damned well feels like it. If you don't believe me, I'll have Lt. P'Trell assign her right now to a detail that will take her away from that computer core for just a few hours, and you'll see what reaction occurs then."

Ghorev continues: "I tried to point that out to you earlier, but you shot me down. That doesn't make it any less true. To say that her authority extends 'only' to special projects is denying that our very presence here is a special project, than the Aegis itself is a special project."

Ghorev falls silent, then.

Whitehorse clears his throat. "Something we were attempting to do when the experiments were.. interrupted." He glances at Edwards. "The more she finds out, Ghorev, the more information /I/ have to go on. She is one of the foremost scientists in her two fields. She is the best hope I have of making sense of all this mess." And he nods again. "When I tried to take her into custody when I wanted to arrest her for bringing back Commander Balin, my security staff felt the full brunt of the artifact's ire. The point is, for now, it's a necessary evil. I have to learn more."

Ghorev says "Admiral, look it at from our perspective -- our only real defense here is the Aegis, and the Aegis is compromised. Andorian folklore is full of legends of the chaka that bit the hand that wielded it. As long as that ship is our only real tactical resource other than a handful of runabouts, we're wearing weights around our neck and being shoved off a glacier into the arctic waters."

P'Trell says "Sir have you considered the possibility that the Artifact might be exercising a negative effect on Tyler?"

Whitehorse replies to Ghorev, "I've been looking into that very thing, Mr. Ghorev. I think you'll be pleased." Whitehorse stands up and moves toward Edwards' replicator. "Do you mind? This talking is making me thirsty."

P'Trell says "There's a bottle of ale on premises as well if you'd prefer sir"

Edwards shakes his head at Whitehorse, "Go ahead." Glancing toward P'Trell, he states, "I don't know if it might be actively corrupting her... but it does give her a scary level of power. If she took it in her head to remind us that the artifact will do whatever she wants, if we step out of line..."

Whitehorse arches an eyebrow. "Andorian ale?" he asks.

P'Trell says "Home brewed sir. ( to Edwards) do we know why the artifact loves her so?"

Edwards mumbles under his breath. "Need to write a primer..." At a more appropriate level, he replies, "Yes. It thinks she's its mommy."

Ghorev starts to make a comment to Whitehorse's reply, and then simply nods. "As for the other, my point still stands: Our standing orders regarding Ensign Tyler are as flexible as the ghelnoid skeleton, and as clean and simple as what happens when one of us breaks a bone." He gestures to P'Trell as if to illustrate that point, while the XO and Chief Science Officer have their sidebar. "Saying that her authority ends where projects do means nothing if her projects have no clearly defined boundaries, and touch on every daily aspect of this station's life, or can be made to contradict any order issued. Never mind the moral quagmire of Sinclaire and Starfleet Command. Never mind the Lithian equation. Never mind questions of Wendy Tyler's 'guilt' or 'innocence'. It's not about that. For me the problem is simple: A girl who never even completed Starfleet Academy training has been given unlimited credit privileges on the Bank of Authority with Starfleet Command. That's so horridly dangerous that I can't begin to muster up the words for how little I think of the men who signed off on that order."

Whitehorse smiles and nods his pleasure. "A glass, empty." When the replicator finishes, he returns to his chair. "She's still following my orders, Ghorev. And I define what constitutes a special project. Right now, she's got three." He holds his glass out to be filled. "The artifact, the captured Lithian, and a temporal shield."

P'Trell fills the Admiral's glass with the thick black brew. "However, science projects tend to be incestuous. Her Artifact begat my Anomaly so to speak. Hence another conflict of interests when, under normal circumstances, teamwork would serve better"

Ghorev starts to argue, but as P'Trell speaks, he simply gestures to indicate that this argument will serve just as well.

Whitehorse nods. "Where it does not directly place those three things, she's not in charge. It's as simple as that. And you're welcome to contact sector HQ and have it clarified, of course. As long as she is following my orders, she'll maintain her current post and position. When she crosses the line, you have my full authority to stop her. At any cost."

Edwards comments, "Easier said than done."

Whitehorse takes a sip of the ale and smiles. "What would you have me do, in your perfect universe?"

Ghorev sits down now, heavily, sliding down a bulkhead somewhere to just look at the rest of the people in the room.

McAnally has remained silent throughout the entirety of this exchange, alternatively looking puzzled, angry, and at a loss. Now, she appears the latter.

Edwards replies, "I'd have you make her just like every other officer on this station. She leads her project, but reports to her department head, who reports to me. The only reason I can see for her getting the authority she does is so Sinclaire can control her directly and not worry about anyone getting in her way."

Ghorev says "I'd like to add something to that, if I may, Michael."

Edwards motions for Ghorev to go ahead.

Ghorev looks at Edwards, then Whitehorse, then P'Trell and McAnally. "To say that tihs project is necessary, in both existence and current form and incarnation, because Wendy Tyler is the most brilliant young scientist in her field is a big steaming pile of makra dung. Starfleet is full of brilliant young experts in their field and we all have a legitimate chain of command. Specialists and generalists alike work in this chain of command. And even when someone is placed temporarily outside the chain of command on a special project, there's accountability and there's reversibility. Right now, we have neither. I'd like to point out that Wendy Tyler doesn't *lead* any projects -- she *is* the project, and I submit that in her desire to continue hoarding the Artifact, to forbid the rest of us who are cleared for knowledge of it to assist in the research, is a dereliction of her duty."

"A man is entitled to his opinions, Ghorev. And I think if you checked, she is indeed the foremost in the field. I am not feeding you some line - her papers go almost straight from Daystrom to classrooms. She studied her own theories when she attended the Academy, as part of classwork. Don't mistake her demeanor for lack of brilliance in her work." Whitehorse then nods to Edwards. "Alright. Deal with her like any other officer. But you'll have to work twice as hard to keep the information secure. We believe that the 419 crew has been compromised."

P'Trell says "compromised how?"

Edwards doesn't look surprised at all, "They have recruits that aren't in their sixties and seventies. I've seen 'em. So they could have an agent onboard. But I trust P'Trell and I trust myself."

One of the badges on the tables suddenly chirps, "Ensign Galway to Lt. JG McAnally."

Ghorev simply sighs, that little trilling noise escaping his throat. "I think you miss my point, Admiral. I never denied she was brilliant at what she does. I am saying that simply isn't enough. Starfleet has others like that, and they still don't get special privileges. They still work in the chain of command, or completely independent of it. Not at once both outside it and atop it like some bizarre eight-dimensional Mobius strip."

Ghorev concludes by saying: "I think what offends me the most about this is that I honestly don't believe that Wendy Tyler deserves her uniform or her pip. Is she a criminal yet? No. I never really meant to imply that she was. But she's certainly no officer. Not yet. She's a civilian scientist given some unnecessary illusion of rank for some reason that escapes me, and having cleaned up the bodies of far better young officers at Wolf 359, it bothers me that she gets to keep the uniform. A uniform implies duty. A rank of any kind implies leadership."

McAnally puts her freckled hands on the arms of her chair, then rises to her feet. "That'd be me," she murmurs apologetically, rifling through the pile until she finds which one is hers. She taps it, stepping away a little so as not to interfere with the conversation. "McAnally here." After a few seconds she ends the communication, and turns back around. "I'm needed on the bridge." She pins the badge back on and stands straight, dipping her head. "Admiral."

Whitehorse nods to McAnally. "Good night."

McAnally heads out.

McAnally has left.

Whitehorse replies to Ghorev as he picks up his badge. "Then you are so ordered, Mr. Ghorev, to test the competency of her uniform." He pins the badge back on his chest and stands up.

Ghorev takes his own pin back and nods. "Thank you, Sir. That much I assure you we've already been discussing."

Whitehorse bobs his head in a nod. "I look forward to your report, then, Lieutenant. Now, if you will all excuse me, I should turn in. I'll be on the station for several days. My door is open for you all."

Ghorev nods. This time, yes, clearly, the departure is not an insult but a necessity, and excuse is given. "Good evening, Admiral."