Trial of the Century

Janeway flung a data pad at a milk-faced secretary lounging behind a huge oak desk, disgusted at the sight of his bare feet perched on the table. He squealed and nearly fell out of his chair as he jumped to attention.

“I need to speak to Takret. Now.”

The poor functionary threw her a weak salute and quickly paged Takret on the intercom. He flinched when Takret threw open the doors with a bang.

“Kathryn,” Takret bellowed with a toothy grin. Without the soft ballroom lighting at their diplomatic dinner, he looked like a dolphin who’d spent too much time in the sun. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Janeway smiled right back and responded sweetly. Too sweetly. “I assure you, ambassador, the pleasure is all mine. May we speak in your office?”

His grin disappeared as he stiffly held the door open for Janeway to join him in his office. “Cover your stinking feet, idiot,” he hissed at his secretary.

Janeway smirked, taking perverse pleasure in bursting his balloon.

"I was hoping you'd get in touch, you know," he said, clearly trying to shift the tone back to something akin to seduction.

She sank into an enormous armchair and crossed her legs. "Well, here I am," she said, smile still perfectly planted on her face.

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't a social call?"

"Can't get one past you."

"How disappointing," he said. He sighed and leaned forward, steepling his fingers beneath his nose. "Tedious diplomatic business, then?"

"Oh, I don't think it's tedious at all, Ambassador. It's quite the ribald tale - filled with seduction, intrigue, and....," she leaned in close, "...murder." With a flourish, she dropped a data PADD and a folder on the table.

Takret glowered. "What is this," he muttered.

"A detailed accounting of why you'll want to drop the charges against Seven of Nine," she said.

"Why in the universe would we want to do that? She's admitted her own guilt!"

"Well it's a funny thing, guilt. She may well have pulled the trigger--"

"She most certainly did."

"--but that's only the conclusion of the story. I'd lean back, grab a glass of wine, and dig in to the first act of Seven and Bjayzl's relationship."

Takret grabbed the data pad and began to skim through it. As he swiped through, his jaw stiffened and his eyes lost their sparkle.  "Where did you get this?"

"It just so happens that Seven recorded her misadventures with Bjayzl in detail. I've compiled the highlights, but it's still a dramatic read, I assure you." Janeway picked up the folder and started rifling through. "Misuse of telepathic powers for the purposes of seduction and theft. Misuse of powers to evade interplanetary security on multiple planets. Misuse of powers to convince Seven to reveal the location of all her ex-Borg friends so your beautiful golden-child, Bjayzl, could harvest them for parts."

As she recounted the hits, Janeway lost her good humor. "If I were you, I would not want the true story of your poster girl getting out. Probably wouldn't look good for your team."

Takret looked profoundly green. "Who says I'm with the Psionics?"

"Oh I must have been mistaken," Janeway replied. "I assumed that since you're the lead prosecutor, you're aligned with their cause. But maybe you're just a patsy."

Takret's face reddened and ballooned as he held back a retort. "I take my legal responsibilities very seriously, Admiral."

"Of course you do," Janeway said with a practiced smile. "And you certainly wouldn't want to bring dishonor to the judiciary by wasting resources on a sham trial."

She grabbed the data pad from him and swiped down swiftly to a summary section, then handed it back.

"You see, once we reviewed the primary source, it was remarkably easy to verify individual incidents, cross-referencing dates against known kidnapping incidents and attacks on Borg recovery facilities." She leaned back into the voluminous armchair and crossed her legs. "The evidence is incontrovertible, once you put it all together."

Takret tossed the data pad on his desk. "If you're quite finished lording this over me, can we skip to the blackmail?"

Janeway grinned. "I knew I liked you. It's simple. Drop the charges and this whole delightful tale will magically disappear. You'll have a little egg on your face, but nothing like what you'd have if it came out that 'maybe psionic powers are in fact evil'.

"And if I don't drop the charges?"

"Well, then I've got a very tetchy intelligence officer just itching to broadcast the full story over every available Betazed channel. Among her many talents, she’s incredibly good at cutting together video from surveillance footage.” Janeway paused to laugh to herself. “It’s quite entertaining I assure you. What we used to call back on Earth an October surprise."

Takret sighed, defeated. "Consider the charges dropped," he muttered, slouching in his seat. “I don’t suppose you’d want to get a drink with me.”

“Sorry Takret, but you’re not my type. I only date people with spines.” She knew it would be overkill, but she couldn’t resist a final barb. “Like I said, the pleasure is all mine.”

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