DISCLAIMER: Characters are the property of Paramount/Viacom, etc... The ideas expressed herein are copyright by QDestinyy@aol.com.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This novel explores an alternate universe of 'reality' which (though it borrows from various 'cannon' sources including Peter David's novel "Imzadi" as well as the late television series), is unique in terms of its take on Star Trek: The Next Generation.

It may also be considered a romantic piece, "caveat emptor".

Some prior knowledge of the characters depicted in the television series is assumed. Not a major issue since the same would hold true were this to be a published "Star Trek: TNG" novel put out by Pocket Books.

License has and will continue to be taken with the moral and ethical constructs of the characters from the series, whose names and likenesses have been deliberately stolen without the consent of Paramount. ;)

In order to appreciate this piece, readers must disregard the entire history of the Enterprise D as set forth for us during the run of TNG. The characters all continue to have the same birth dates and ethnic backgrounds, of course. Many will follow the same pathways and carry the same rank which they had in the series --- some will not.

The time frame is circa 2364, on or about the first assignment of the USS Enterprise NCC1701-D.

A heartfelt thank you to "Ian" for his input and assistance in reworking the final draft. He saved my sanity.

Chapter 1 "Introductions"

It was chilly for an autumn evening in San Francisco.

The woman who entered Casey's Lounge stood silently off to one side of the bar and regarded the entire scene before her.

She was neither tall, nor particularly short. Neither strikingly beautiful, nor displeasing to look at. Her hair had been swept up above her head into a hat; one common to her people, and she smiled in a way that seemed to give further nuance to the word 'gamine'.

Tonight, she was pleased. Everything seemed almost exactly as she remembered it. The ambience, the decor of the place, even the way the starlight seemed to filter down into the room from the Lounge's unusually large floor to ceiling windows overlooking San Francisco Bay.

Casey's was neither a run-of-the-mill bar, nor a particularly "up-scale" establishment. But with its devil-may-care "blues brothers" attitude and a live jazz compliment on certain nights of the week, it was very definitely a favorite Starfleet officer's hang out. And tonight, she was looking for one officer in particular.

Though the room was filled with voices, she knew that he would be here. Watching and waiting, she slid onto an empty chair at the bar where she could survey the room and ordered an Acturian Fizz. This evening, she would have something simple and refreshing. Perhaps in honor of the occasion.

Sipping her drink, she let her eyes wander over the crowd scanning each face for his. He was here somewhere, he had to be.

The lighting was dim, almost as dim as she remembered it had been the last time she was here. Most of the crowd was clustered around the stage listening to, what she considered to be, a rather un-extraordinary jazz quartet. She began to search each person's location, one at a time.

And then she found him.

Far off in one corner, she saw him. He was nursing a drink of his own, his eyes downcast. The woman smiled.

Brushing her fingertips lightly over the edge of her glass, she considered her next move. Then, downing it's contents in one gulp, the woman pushed the glass away and turned to leave her vantage point.

"Beautiful evening." A voice stopped her. Still seated, she turned. The eyes which met her own were dark and wise. She acknowledged their owner with a curious tilt of her head.

A short, blonde, El'Aurian bar tender smiled back at her; collecting the empty glass with the practiced grace of a dancer.

"They say that if you pick a star, on clear night like tonight, you can look into your future." The bartender continued. Her patron shrugged.

"A heavy price to pay, for such an innocent desire." The woman returned. For a time, the two held eye contact.

"Go with fortune, M'hal." The bartender inclined her head as she broke the spell, offering the blessing of her people.

"And you." The woman's voice grew soft.

Sliding off of her chair, the taller woman moved around the end of the bar and picked her way through the myriad of visitors and chairs, never losing sight of her quarry. She arrived at a table.

His table.

"Is this seat taken?"

He'd been starring into his drink. His head snapped up.

"I beg your pardon?" With his eyes on her now, she was more certain of her decision than ever.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" She repeated, smiling at him.

Though he seemed mildly surprised, he nodded his assent in a way that seemed to indicate he didn't care either way. That wasn't like him at all. She sat opposite him, regarding him seriously.

"You seem tense..."

He looked up at her again. "Do I know you?" Now he seemed annoyed. She smiled.

"Not today..."

He threw her a puzzled frown. "If you're looking for conversation, you've picked the wrong table, Miss--"

"Oh no, this is the right table. This is the right table, and I'm in the right place." She leaned forward.

His eyes narrowed. "You're El'Aurian, aren't you?" The distinction wasn't difficult to make, however it looked as though he hadn't realized until just that moment.

She nodded, non-committal. He sighed.

"I really did come down here to be alone."

"Alone in a room full of people...how poetic." She swept her hand across the room adjacent to them, still smiling.

"Look..."

"Captain, I'm here because we need to discuss something. Something important."

This time when he met her gaze there was serious incredulity in his eyes. He wasn't in uniform, not even close. And not only that, but-

"How did you know?"

"I know a lot of things. One which concerns you, in particular." The El'Aurian shrugged.

"And that would be?" He was interested now, and his posture betrayed that.

She nodded to herself and reached into a pocket, extracting a small, obsidian stone from inside.

It was perfectly round and perfectly smooth, and it lay within the palm of her hand like a tiny jewel.

She held it out to him. He balked.

"A rock? You came here to give me a rock?" This time, it was his turn to smile.

"Not just a rock, Captain. An answer."

She might as well have grown a third eye. He shook his head. "Are you certain we've never met before? Something about you is disturbingly familiar..."

"Before and After are difficult concepts to wrap our heads around sometimes..."

He glanced in her direction for several more seconds and then seemed to come to a decision.

Dipping his head, he returned to his drink with a curt: "No thanks..."

"I'm disappointed." She answered, nonplused.

"I'm not interested in buying your rock." It was a simple answer to a simple question, and he hoped she would take it as such and leave him be.

She didn't.

"I never said it was for sale..."

"Well, then I'm not interested in having it gifted to me either, thank you."

"I never said it was for you."

"Is there a point to this? Because I'm just about ready to leave..."

"Not without the stone, you're not." This time when he met her eyes, he saw the imperative. It made him more than a little uneasy.

"Miss--" He began in frustration, and then suddenly stopped, gesturing towards her. "Do you have a name? I feel somewhat at a disadvantage here..."

She nodded. "Thank you for asking, I thought you never would."

He continued to stare at her, expectant.

"Most of the time, I'm called Guinan." She smiled. "And it's always a pleasure to meet you... Captain Riker."

* * *

Chapter 2 "The Gift"

They'd been sitting for nearly fifteen minutes., The stone lay between them, resting in the center of a titanium-alloy lounge table.

"So, tell me something...Guinan." Riker tipped his head. "How do you seem to know so much about me?"

She shrugged. "If you're referring to your rank, Captain, news travels quickly."

"Usually news has to be formally *released* before it can travel. Starfleet hasn't even made the commission official yet, there's protocol to follow. I only found out this morning myself."

"Is that why you've been sitting down here, pouting into your drink for hours? I would have thought you'd be out celebrating." She asked.

"That's none of your business." His curt reply seemed to amuse her, for she smiled -- a fact which only annoyed him further.

"You are the second youngest Captain in Starfleet history, doesn't that make you feel proud?"

He didn't answer.

"Well if that doesn't make you jump for joy, being given command of the flag ship of the Federation *should." At this point, her voice held a certain amount of reproach, but he didn't care.

"You said you had something to say to me?" He sighed in exasperation. For several seconds, Guinan seemed to stare right through him. Finally, she shook her head.

"You've always been a stubborn man, Captain." Her lips thinned.

"If that's the best you have to tell me, I'll be leaving now--"

"What I have to say to you needs to be *understood* to be useful. And you're in no mood right now to understand anything." Guinan rose slowly from her seat. "Just do me a favor and keep the stone. You don't have to do anything with it, just remember what I've said. It holds an answer for you. What you do with that answer, will be entirely your decision."

Before he could respond, the El'Aurian rose and left the table, making her way back through the throng of people towards the Lounge entrance, she slipped quietly through it, and then she was gone.

As the crowd closed behind her, Riker took a good long look at the polished, obsidian stone on the table before him. It certainly seemed simple enough. Tiny -- obviously just a pretty rock. For all he knew, the woman might be crazy. Some lunatic who happened to hear something she wasn't supposed to.

Still, she was an El'Aurian... and even though no one really knew a great deal about their race, they were a respected voice among the members of the Federation Council.

"Something tells me I'm going to regret this." He whispered sullenly. And several more seconds ticked by before he exhaled a short breath in exasperation.

Scooping the stone up into his hand, Riker stuffed it into a pocket and rose from the table.

Whatever this was about, he'd have time to analyze it later. It was getting late, he'd already had too much to drink and he had an appointment to make at Starfleet headquarters first thing in the morning.

Grimacing when the room spun briefly at his sudden change in altitude, He shook his head. Quite a bit too much to drink, it seemed.

Taking one last look around the lounge, he marched stoically forward and out into the chilly Terran night.

* * *

Chapter 3 "Beginning's End"

"I'm afraid I find this all ... somewhat difficult to believe."

Admiral Jean-Luc Picard, Starfleet's most decorated diplomatic liaison and an officer whose career had spanned over four decades, spoke as he walked slowly through one of the larger corridors which formed a myriad of pathways within Starfleet's Command HQ complex.

It was early morning. Too early for his liking, in fact. But the Admiral had been somewhat preoccupied for the past several hours, and even had he wished for it, sleep would never have come to him this night.

"I expected you would ask for proof, Admiral." The woman in his company kept pace with him step for step. "The problem is - I have very little in the way of concrete evidence at my disposal to offer you."

"Yet you approached me anyway? Why? Did you conceive that perhaps I would be willing to betray the Council of the Federation at your request?" His eyes grew narrow. "You may believe that you have known me at some point within your past Ms. Guinan, but I can assure you that the feeling is *not* a mutual one."

"It's Guinan." She corrected. "Just Guinan. And we do know one another Admiral. All that remains is for us to meet..."

Her cryptic response only served to confound him further.

"Quit talking in riddles. You're asking me to take a leap of faith based upon the supposition that the Federation as I know it - is about to end. On what basis am I to believe such a thing?" He stopped suddenly and regarded her with a serious expression.

"On the basis that I'm telling you the truth, Captain --- I mean Admiral." This time, the frustration in her own voice was just barely apparent. It would be the first time he had heard such a lapse in mental control from her, and it caused his eyebrows to raise in question.

Ever since he had met this - Guinan - less than a day ago, something about her had compelled him to give her an opportunity to explain. Explain herself, her impossible story, her presence here within the most secure building at Starfleet Command. Even when the wholly rational portion of his mind had already rebuked him for not having her removed immediately by a security detail, some other facet of his psyche whispered to him that he should listen. Still, her story grew more and more frustrating by the moment. And his patience had begun to thin.

"You're telling me the truth? Perhaps in part." He sighed. "Yet you refuse to tell me *why* the danger will occur. Who is this 'enemy' you refer to? What makes you assume that they will find us here without any of our detection grids or sensor arrays picking up their progress?"

"Because they already have." Her simple answer stunned him.

"They're here? Now? Where?" He glanced out of one of the large portal windows in the hallway. The Terran sun was rising slowly, spilling liquid gold into the horizon, even as various transport vessels sped across his field of view, skipping from destination to destination. Going about their business just as they had yesterday and the day before. Picard frowned.

"Guinan..." He warned.

She sighed.

"Admiral, Listen to me, we're all in uncharted waters here --- the first time you met me, you were a Captain. The Captain of a Galaxy Class starship…"

At this, he pinned her with a sharp look.

"A starship," She continued. "...called the Enterprise."

"The Enterprise? There you have, once again, stated the impossible. The current model of the Enterprise is the first of the Galaxy Class fleet for the Federation. And its Captaincy has already been decided. I am not that person."

"No." She conceded. "Not here, and not now. But you were, then..."

"I was...?" The Admiral shook his head. "Perhaps, you'd better leave."

"They offered you the ship, didn't they?" She pressed.

Picard was silent.

"Well?"

"How would you know that."

"Because I know that in another time, you would have taken that offer. The problem," She touched his arm. "Is exactly that. The time period I refer to no longer exists. I am *out of time* Admiral. Your future has already changed, irrevocably, and so has mine. Even I can't tell you how much because it is still changing. But if you refuse to believe what I *am* able to tell you; if you won't help us stop them, then nothing will be salvageable. We won't even be able to save what's left of the time stream. And the Federation will end. Make no mistake." She trailed off, shaking her head.

They stared at one another for an eternity - until Picard shook his head and turned away. But behind him, Guinan's voice froze his progress.

"Jean-Luc, your brother's wife is pregnant. Your nephew will be born in seven months..." Guinan's voice brought the Admiral up short.

"What?" He breathed.

"They're going to call him Rene." She proceeded.

"I was visiting the vineyards last week..." He turned to face her, exhaling slowly.

"Which is when she told you. She hadn't told your brother yet, he wasn't going to be home for another three days, but she told you. And even though you might refuse to admit it, some part of you was glad for them both. Because they are fulfilling a dream you were never able to..."

"That's enough." Picard backed away from her.

"You have to help us. You were meant to help us." Guinan answered simply, neither advancing towards him, nor attempting to halt his retreat.

Picard looked away . And it was obvious he was thinking. After a time, without turning, he whispered: "How long do we have?"

"Not long." The older woman shook her head.

He sighed. "Why do I believe you?" His eyes grew sharp. "Though it goes against a very powerful voice inside me, I find myself willing to believe......"

"Then you'll help us." Guinan stated simply. As though the matter had already been decided.

"I'll do what I can." He thinned his lips. "But you will have to promise me something, Guinan."

She inclined her head. "That being?"

"That you will tell me everything you know. I cannot, in good conscience, keep your secret from the Council unless I feel I know what I'm accomplishing with my silence."

"I will tell you what I can..." She acceded. "It will have to be enough."

He frowned and countered... "Then why do I get the feeling you're only going to tell me a fraction of the whole?"

"It will have to be enough." She maintained, meeting his challenging gaze with one of her own. "I give you my word, I will tell you everything that I am able. More than that, and I would jeopardize this time stream to an even greater extent than our enemy already has. You must understand that..."

He regarded her in silence for a moment. Then finally, slowly, he nodded.

"I hope I don't regret this…"

"Regret," The older woman began with a smile. "Is a pointless emotion. You used to say that often…"

"Yes, well..." He pinned her with a direct gaze. "Be that as it may, it does tend to settle into a person's gut after every mistaken judge of character…" He afforded her a warning glance, and then he shook his head.

"Very well. Where do we begin?" He asked, as they began to walk once more. The two of them; headed ever onward through the silent corridor.

"The first thing we need to discuss..." Guinan began as if continuing a previous conversation. "Is an officer by the name of Riker. Will Riker."

* * *

={The time is 0630 hours}=

Will Riker groaned at the tedious intrusion of the computer's voice and rolled over in bed.

={The time is 0631 hours}=

"All right, all right, I hear you." He sat up, half dazed. "Computer, delete reminder. One quarter lights."

As the room flickered into view, Riker ran his hands errantly through his hair and wet his parched lips. He had one hell of a headache and his mouth felt as though it had been filled with cotton.

Well, that would teach him to stick to synthehol instead of single malt next time he had the brilliant idea to drink his woes away. Now he had less than half an hour to make himself presentable before his meeting with the Admiral. After that, he'd take care of those other -- formalities of protocol -- he'd been dreading.

He pawed through his kit bag and finally found the date expired hangover pills he had stashed there. 'Better than nothing' he thought as he stumbled towards the hygiene unit adjacent to his suite. It occurred to him that all he probably needed was a hot shower and freshly replicated uniform to make the thick fog lift from his brain. It wasn't like him to be this dazed in the morning, but then again, it wasn't like him to drink anything other than standard issue syntheholic beverage, either. He frowned and buckled down to duty...

Despite the sluggish state of his brain, completing the transformation from one slightly hung over Will Riker into one very prim and correct 'Captain William T. Riker' took just under fifteen minutes for the young officer.

Satisfied with his progress, the newly created ranking official stood before his cabin mirror and allowed a small smile to play at the corners of his mouth.

He wasn't a vain man, but he knew that he was more than capable of looking very good when he wanted to. And the extra pip on his collar really did at a certain something to his uniformed attire --- he had to admit. He may not have received his command codes just yet, but it was only a matter of time.

Being the second youngest Captain to receive a commission in Starfleet history should have been an honor for the brash young officer. Thirty two years old and in command of his own vessel -- it should have been a tribute to his name. And it might have been... for anyone else.

For anyone who hadn't spent their entire lifetime trying to *beat* Kirk's record, only to come in just a hair's breadth too late. Six extra months. What a rip-off. His mirrored image shook it's head in disgust.

"This time, Riker... you're just going to have to settle for second best." He admonished his reflection, but the face which regarded him from the portal seemed far from satisfied.

Turning on his heel, the newly minted Captain walked briskly from his quarters to meet with the man who had made his career.

* * *

When he stopped outside of the door to the Admiral's office, Riker sucked in a deep, cleansing breath. This was it. Just a few minor details, a complete physical and mental examination, and he would have attained his dream.

He exhaled quickly and rang the chime.

"Come." The imperative came from somewhere inside. He followed it, stepping through the now-open doorway and into the modest suite.

"Ah... Will, right on time." The Admiral smiled.

"Admiral Picard." Riker straightened his uniform top self consciously. It wasn't that he was nervous about the upcoming discussion, not precisely. It was just that he knew very well it had been Picard who recommended him for Captaincy of the Enterprise, and that meant something.

Simply being considered for the newly commissioned Galaxy Class starship was an honor in itself, but this particular honor held the dubious distinction of being coupled with the fact that Picard himself had initially been offered command of the vessel. The older officer had been asked to Captain the Enterprise almost simultaneously with the offer of promotion to Admiral he'd received.

Obviously, his choice now seemed clear enough. But Riker couldn't imagine anyone having given up an opportunity to command the Flag Ship of the Federation without a great deal of --- what was the term? Soul searching...

The younger officer cleared his throat self consciously. What a card... To be dealt two conflicting, equally lucrative and exciting propositions at the same time. He was glad he hadn't been in such a position; even happier that he'd always had a fairly single-minded goal where his career in Starfleet was concerned.

"Will, you and I have known one other for going on three years now, correct?"

Picard's voice jostled him from his thoughts and the older man furrowed his brow.

It was true. Riker had first met the Admiral (then a Captain) during a routine diplomatic mission while serving on board the Hood. He'd been the ship's first officer at the time, and Picard had been a passenger for a brief period while en route to the planet Mirallis Prime where he was to serve as a diplomatic liaison for the Federation Council.

Admittedly, Riker had been intrigued by the decorated Starfleet Captain back then. A man whose reputation as both a tactical officer and a skilled orator preceded him. In fact, it had always seemed to Riker that Starfleet made use of Picard's uncanny diplomatic abilities often before they recognized his achievements on the front lines of numerous strategic and tactical operations.

"Yes sir, three years next Friday." Riker smiled and Picard nodded sagely.

"Well, I've always felt you were a fine officer."

"Thank you sir."

"And the Enterprise is a fine ship. The finest ever." This time, it seemed the Admiral appeared somewhat nostalgic.

"I heard she was offered to you first, sir." Riker added, with a deferential tip of the head.

"Indeed. And the offer was a tempting one." Picard smiled. "To be able to take one last dance across the galaxy in a ship like that--" He trailed off and was quiet for several moments, perhaps exploring a portion of that galaxy within his own mind. After a time, reality resurfaced in his features.

"Such voyages as are in the future of the Enterprise will demand a new generation of dreamers." Picard finally continued.

"She is magnificent, sir."

Riker's grin was infections and the Admiral returned it in kind.

"Just wait until you see how true that assessment will be..."

The older man sighed.

"The first time you walk across your own bridge, Captain, the sight of it; the sounds; the smells; the entire experience will linger in your memory for all eternity. It's like nothing you ever have, or ever will experience again. Savor the moment, Will. As your commanding officer, I can tell you that it will sustain you in times when nothing else will..."

There was a brief, and somewhat awkward period of silence between them before Will finally spoke up:

"Am I to assume then sir, that I'll be receiving my command codes today?"

"Oh yes." The Admiral nodded. "Everything you'll need is right here." He tapped a small PADD which lay at the edge of his desk. "The only thing remaining will be the standard physical and psychological profiles, of course... after which...she's all yours."

Riker let out a breath of air he hadn't even known he was holding. It was moments like these in which a person truly realized the reality of their direction. None of it had seemed entirely tangible to the younger officer until this very instant.

Oh, certainly the promotion, the years he'd spent preparing, training. The experience, accolades and the pats on the back had all been real enough. But finally being here?

Riker gathered the command codes into his hand and smiled. Now that he was finally standing in this room, holding his future in his palm, it made it all somehow -- official.

Almost. Well, the rest of it was only a formality in any event.

Even being the *second* youngest Captain in Starfleet history didn't seem such a major defeat to him anymore. This would be his ship. His crew -- he would make them the finest the Fleet had ever seen. Knowing that; believing in the truth of it, somehow made everything a little more exciting as well. Kirk may have been the youngest, but he would be the best. Of that, there was absolutely no question in his mind.

Noticing the almost imperceptible adjustments that Riker had made to his stance, the Admiral smiled sardonically.

"On a hunch, Will, would you prefer to get those -- other formalities -- out of the way as quickly as possible?"

When Picard was rewarded with the younger man's half-smile and nod, he almost laughed.

"I can't say I blame you one bit. You're going to be planet side for at least a month until the final touches are completed on your ship. But that doesn't mean we can't get some of this out of the way sooner than that." He nodded stiffly. "Indeed, if I remember correctly, I had to wait five days for them to finish poking and prodding me upon my promotion to Captain. It was torture."

When he saw Riker's face drain of color, he quickly added: "Luckily for you, you've got a friend in a high place..." Picard tapped at a console on his desk.

"Computer, COMM link to Starfleet Medical, building four. Audio only."

={Link established. Audio only.}= The computer intoned.

"Admiral Picard to Psych 4."

={Psych 4, Troi here. Admiral, to what do we owe the honor?}=

Riker could hear the laughter behind the woman's musical voice and it somehow made him want to smile right along with her.

"Deanna, good to hear your voice. Answering your own COMM today, are you?"

={We're short staffed, there's no one else available. Do you need assistance?}=

"I assure you, you won't be seeing me down there any time soon." Picard shook his head to negative, as though the physical gesture would have an impact on his verbal statement over an audio-only link.

={Well sir, I'll have to speak to Beverly about that. To hear her tell it, you're already three weeks overdue for your physical --- and we won't even mention your annual psychological profile.}=

"I'd appreciate it if we didn't." Picard tossed Riker a helpless glance and the younger officer couldn't help but grin.

"And tell Dr, Crusher that she lost our last bet. It's her turn to come *here*."

On the other side of the COMM link, Troi laughed.

={I'll do that. Just don't conveniently forget to be in your office when she arrives. I won't bail you out next time...}=

"Counselor, as enchanting as our conversations always are--"

={You need a favor.}= Her voice was smooth and lilting. Riker thought he rather enjoyed it. It made him feel -- what *did* it make him feel?

Was it possible to be attracted solely to a person's voice? He shook his head. All of this protocol was beginning to make him dizzy. That's all it was. He was sure of it.

Almost.

"As perceptive as ever. Are you certain you're not Telepathic?" The older man smiled as he continued his conversation, and Riker snapped his focus back into reality. Just in time to hear the Counselor's voice chiding her superior.

={My mother would love to hear you say that.}=

"Oh, well --- I--"

It was odd, but in that moment, Riker could have sworn he saw the Admiral blanche... Just who was 'her mother' anyway? He filed the question away for later reference.

={Admiral, we really are short staffed here and I know that any moment I'm going to be forced to cut this short. If there's something I can do for you, you know I'd be happy to try...}=

This time, the cadence of her voice grew serious.

"You mean besides the fact that I think the head of Starfleet Psychology should most definitely put in for an assistant."

={We can't all have offices on the eighteenth floor of the Counsel complex, unfortunately, Admiral}=

Riker grinned at her obvious rebuke. She was very sure of herself. He couldn't help but admire that, though the Admiral shook his head.

"I have a colleague in here with me who needs a psychological and medical profile, preferably by the end of the day so that he can take care of the more demanding responsibilities of assembling his crew..."

={Another Captain to be?}= For some reason, Riker bristled at her cavalier tone.

"You said you were short staffed, does that mean there's no one on your team who might be able to-"

={I can take him.}= Picard cleared his throat at the irony of the statement. Truly, she probably could. She was Starfleet's head of psychology and the youngest one they'd ever had, at that. If anyone knew how to handle a brash new Captain, it would be the very intelligent young Counselor he was currently speaking to. Still...

"Are you certain, Deanna? I know how hectic things can get down there-"

={That's all right. Who needed to take a lunch, anyway? I can see him at 1300 hours.}= The smile in her voice was back again and with it, that irrational feeling Riker had felt earlier.

Picard nodded. "I owe you a favor."

={Just be in your office when Beverly gets there this time!}=

"You have my word. Picard out."

The admiral tapped off the COMM and let out a short breath of air. "There. That wasn't so hard."

"I've seen Romulan invasion plans that seemed easier, sir." Riker quipped.

"You're probably right." Picard shook his head. "Between the two of them, Starfleet Medical has never been this organized." He trailed off. "But it's impossible for a person to avoid his physical--"

Riker suddenly frowned. There would be just enough time to get it all out of the way if he kept to a strict schedule.

"I suppose if I'm going to make that appointment, and finish up my paperwork, I'd better hurry." After today, there would be nothing standing in the way of his future. No, his *destiny*. He was sure of it.

"You seem awfully certain of yourself for a man who's about to enter the maw of Starfleet's medical scrutiny, Captain." The Admiral's amused voice broke his concentration and Riker blinked.

"Well, sir, I see no reason for this day not to go smoothly. Should I?" He tossed the older man a perplexed look. The Admiral only smiled.

"I hope not. These things really are routine, but very like redoing any other test we've managed to come through relatively unscathed in the past, it's easy to get cocky. Just remember who you are and what your assignment will entail -- and I think you'll do just fine."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, Admiral." Riker nodded.

"Very well, dismissed then. And good luck, Captain." Picard threw him a meaningful glance, but Riker was too preoccupied already to notice it.

Turning on his heel, the younger officer stepped through the doorway of the Admiral's office and proceeded into the hallway towards -- his destiny.

As the doors hissed shut behind him, Picard sighed deeply. Glancing up towards a particularly colorful mural on one of his walls, the Admiral keyed a sequence of commands into his desk console.

The air around the mural shimmered briefly and a humanoid figure flickered surreally into view. She gazed at him in silence, as he gazed at her, and for long moments, the silence remained unbroken.

"Are you certain about this?" It was Picard who finally spoke, and the woman shrugged.

"Jean-Luc, if I wasn't certain, I wouldn't be here --." She inclined her head reassuringly and the Admiral seemed to relax.

"He's very young..."

"'The age of the soul has little to do with the age of the body.'" She quoted to him. "You'll tell me that, one day."

He shook his head in resignation. "Well I certainly hope I know what I'm talking about a lot better *then*, than I feel as though I do right now." Picard thinned his lips.

For her part, the woman who called herself Guinan, merely smiled.

* * *

Chapter 4 "Till We Meet...Again"

Counselor Deanna Troi, Head of Psychology at Starfleet Medical, and the most harassed woman on Earth this particular morning, reached behind her and pulled out the loose clip which had been holding her long, raven hair in place.

She let it tumble down over her shoulders for an instant, savoring the freedom, and then gathered it back together with an annoyed sigh, replacing the clip. Of all the days -- even her *hair* was refusing to cooperate with her this morning.

"Commander..." The tentative voice of a young ensign intruded into her office and so annoyed was she with the rate at which her department had managed to fall behind already today, that she didn't even bother turning around in her chair.

"It's Counselor." Troi corrected sharply. She heard the ensign clear his throat.

"I'm sorry sir."

Deanna sighed. "Ensign..." This time she did turn in her chair. "I'm the one who should apologize." She awarded a small smile to the man in her doorway and shook her head. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. It's just been -- quite a morning."

The young ensign nodded.

"What can I do for you?" Troi rolled forward nearer her desk and unceremoniously shoved a small stack of PADDs aside, grinning triumphantly as one of them slid to the floor with a tiny clang.

"I can- I can come back later if--" The ensign glanced at his commanding officer's happy expression with trepidation.

"No." Troi leaned forward and propped her head up between her hands on her desk. "They may have already committed me by then... you'd best get this over with now."

This time, her guest smiled.

"Well, it's not for me, actually. I noticed that everyone was rushing around, and there wasn't really anyone in reception and the Captain, he was asking if--"

Deanna shook her head in confusion. Captain?

"Ensign, what are you talking about, there's no Captain in this office--" She suddenly trailed off and then shot the ensign a helpless look.

"This wouldn't be Captain Riker, would it--?"

The ensign nodded.

"Ugh." Deanna made a small sound in the back of her throat and proceeded to cover her face with her hands.

"I completely forgot." She mumbled. Glancing back up at the man in her doorway, she pointed at him vaguely. "Okay. Look, tell Captain Riker that I apologize." She let out a quick breath and seemed lost in thought for a moment. "... and tell him I'll be with him in two ---" She glanced quickly at the toppled stack of PADDs on her desk and groaned out loud. "No, better make that five- five minutes, all right?"

"Yes sir." The ensign turned to go and was nearly knocked over by yet another ensign, hurrying into Troi's office.

"Counselor--" The other ensign cut in. "There's a communique from Admiral Ryan that's been on Rickman's desk for over an hour, the Admiral wants to know what's going to happen with the--"

"Counselor--" Another voice behind the second one interrupted. "Sorry to interrupt, but there's a situation coming in from Med-Lab 9. They need our data for the Regallis project and we need the command authorization codes before the files can be transferred..."

={Admiral Ryan to Psych 4}= The primary COMM unit beeped unsympathetically.

For a moment, Deanna glanced from one ensign to the other and then at the flashing COMM light on her desk as though all three interruptions had simultaneously announced to her that the Universe had come to a grinding screeching halt.

Then, to the complete shock of everyone, she suddenly smiled widely. "I'm sorry, but the Counselor isn't in right now!" Troi shrugged, and her smile brightened. "She has a patient!" Her cavalier voice carried behind her as she hopped from her desk and walked serenely from her office --- leaving behind two ensigns with identically stricken expressions on their faces, and one still-blinking COMM light.

* * *

Riker shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He'd been sitting here for nearly an hour already and the only living being he'd managed to come across was an Ensign from Med-Lab 6 who had no idea who he was or when the Counselor would be arriving.

He'd sent the young officer scurrying though. Under threat of a painful duty assignment which, truth be told, he'd really have no jurisdiction to authorize -- he had commanded the young man to find out just 'what the hell was going on'. The remembrance of the ensign's stricken expression made him shake his head. He hadn't really wanted to scare the guy, still, he was a Captain. He had enough to do without waiting for hours in some Med-Lab facility for an appointment which should have taken place a long time ago. His threat hadn't been actual anyway. It was just that coming from a Captain, it sounded real enough to the young man. He'd taken off in search of 'Commander Troi'.

Commander huh? Will sighed. This Counselor... she may have been one rank beneath his own in any otherwise official capacity, but in here -- in her own offices and lab, during his evaluation period, she might as well be God. He exhaled slowly.

It wasn't that he hated these kinds of evaluations. Well, okay it was. But who could blame him? Did anybody like sitting in a room alone with a person who's sole objective was to ask you personal and prodding questions until you revealed to them any *hint* that you might not have 100% of your marbles in the right place?

And who were they to judge, anyway? Who would she be to judge *his* competency? Some person he'd never met before, and she had the ability to tell Starfleet Command he was anything from a first class top notch officer to -- the next evolution of the serial murderer. No matter what he said after that, they would still believe her evaluation. That was the kicker.

A Starfleet officer in a position of command needed to set a higher example, the guidelines stated. A Starfleet officer in a position of command must never be seen as a liability to his or her crew or his or her mission; must always be able to make decisions quickly, accurately and fairly...

"Must be a damn robot..." He mumbled unsympathetically. "Well if they want a robot, then that's what I'll give them." Once he'd gotten through this little hurdle, it wouldn't matter what they thought of him anymore anyway. He would show them he was the best damn Captain the Federation had ever known, and that would be enough.

He smiled to himself.

"You must be Captain Riker."

A familiar voice suddenly jolted him from his thoughts and his head snapped up, attending to it's presence. It was the voice from the COMM link, he remembered that voice. It was Troi's voice, and she was standing in the doorway to the small exam room.

She was standing …she…was… the most incomprehensibly beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. Her long, ebony hair caught up behind her head, framed her face like an angel's and her eyes-- her eyes were large and dark; the deepest black... Absurdly, they reminded him of the jewel he'd been given by the mysterious woman in Casey's Lounge; the stone he now carried everywhere with him in his over-tunic.

His mouth must have fallen open for the Counselor tossed him a wry, knowing smile and shook her head.

"Deanna Troi" She extended her hand... their eyes met and held ... and Riker, for the life of him though he'd known it since birth, couldn't remember his own name.

* * *

Chapter 5 "First Impressions"

"Captain?" When Riker hadn't spoken in nearly five seconds, Troi did instead.

"What?" His voice was thin, and he was simultaneously disgusted and incredulous at his inability to communicate. No one had ever been able to tongue tie him before, and he thought -- not without a certain amount of male ego -- certainly no feminine presence ever had. This was more than just the obviously physical attraction he felt towards her, this was-

Deanna felt the oddest sensation brush across her mind and she started at the intrusion, clearing her thoughts at once. As an empath, she'd never been affected in this particular way by a full human before. Or a non-telepath, at any rate. Certainly not on this level. It was almost as if she had felt Captain Riker's thoughts intrude on her own, momentarily. But that was impossible. And just as quickly as it had been there, the very strange sensation disappeared; gone before it had even been truly a glimmer.

Frustratingly, Troi found herself unable to analyze it, and more than ready to shrug it off as an errant effect of a strenuous day.

Oh, it was obvious to her that he found her attractive. On the surface, his feelings towards her presence might as well have been broadcast over a loud speaker. And this certainly wasn't the first time that a patient of hers had reacted similarly. But her perception of this man's feelings was different somehow... familiar, almost. Except that too, was impossible...

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she regarded him for a further instant in what had only been a matter of seconds since last she spoke.

Riker cleared his throat. Managing to recapture his sanity just in time, he nodded in her direction.

"I'm sorry," He began, already forming his signature grin; the one he knew seemed to have a desirable effect in most situations of unease. "I think I've just been waiting in this room for so long, I'm probably still in shock that someone actually walked through those doors."

When she awarded him with a genuine smile, he found the effect enchanting.

"I should apologize for that." Her voice was lilting and rich; almost musical, and now it was no wonder to him. She was obviously Betazoid, and that meant--

Oh no. He groaned inwardly. She was obviously Betazoid which meant that she was completely aware of everything he'd just been thinking, Betazoids being among the most gifted of the known telepathic species in Federation recorded history.

How could he have been so careless! He nearly cringed with embarrassment, but she continued her earlier thought as though unaware of his predicament.

"We're woefully understaffed here today and truthfully, it's my own fault that you were kept waiting. I completely forgot..." Troi shrugged and sighed. "But, I'm here now. And we can begin any time you're ready..."

"Why even bother?" He knew how the phrase had sounded even as it left his lips, but the bitter voice inside of him wouldn't allow him to keep quiet.

"I beg your pardon?" She frowned.

She seemed genuinely taken aback. What did she think he was, an idiot? Poor stupid human just doesn't get it? Or maybe she wanted to 'save' him from his own embarrassing thoughts. That rankled.

"I said, why even bother starting a conversation when I think it's fairly obvious that you already know everything I'm going to say." He gritted his teeth as the words emerged and knew for a fact that there was something about her which had caused him to speak so tactlessly.

Truthfully, he'd only ever met two other Betazoids and those encounters had been brief, though polite. In fact, he'd gotten along just fine with both of them. But somehow those instances were different Right this very moment, he'd never felt more violated.

Why was that? She hadn't said or done anything... why did it matter so much to him that she might possibly be able to know what he'd been thinking? If she wasn't going to talk about it, why should he?

An instant later, he saw her eyes darken, and knew he'd hit his mark. But her temper never broke. Instead, she narrowed her gaze and spoke calmly.

"Captain, I'll excuse your rudeness and we'll attribute it to your not having met many of my people before, am I right?"

He regarded her in challenge for a moment; until it was obvious he had lost this particular battle. Then he dropped his gaze. The fact was, he knew that she was right. He had been rude. Inexcusably rude, and the damnedest part was that he wasn't even sure of why. "Not far off the mark."

"Well then allow me to educate you on a piece of etiquette which will likely save you further personal embarrassment." Her voice held an edge which gnawed at him.

"My people do not probe the thoughts of others without consent. We don't 'scan' your mind and extract what we please and we certainly don't bring up whatever personal idiosyncrasies or stray broadcasts we happen to pick up from everyone we meet."

When she stopped speaking and Riker hadn't responded, she gestured towards the chair he'd been sitting in. The door slid shut behind her and she herself took a seat in the opposite corner of the tiny room.

At first, Riker balked, refusing to give her the satisfaction. But after noticing that his refusal seemed to be having no effect on her one way or the other, he finally sank into his chair like a school kid in detention. For her part, Deanna folded her hands serenely in her lap before she continued.

"Your unease is likely due to some bastardization of the truth about my people which you've somehow managed to adopt. While it's true we are an open society, it is not true that we abuse our abilities in such a manner as to extricate the thoughts of other species against their will or without their knowing. There is no such thing as duplicity among us and we expect the same courtesy from everyone with whom we interact in a position of friendship."

Riker frowned. He already felt like a total cretin after his outburst. As well he should have. So unlike him to lose his cool that way. Even less like him to be out and out rude about it.

It was as though all of a sudden his emotions were in charge and he had no say in the matter. Hell of a time to lose control --- here --- in the instant before he was to have charmed his way into the Captain's chair with an easy interview. If he could have placed his head into his hands without arousing suspicion, he would have. Who was she? Why did she get to him this way? And worst of all ... what was wrong with him?

Troi continued.

"It's been my professional experience that human nature seems inclined to fear, innately, the thought of having one's mind open to scrutiny. So I would be hard pressed to take personal offense at your comment." She tossed him a meaningful look and he had the decency to look chagrined.

"My people have no such inhibitions, obviously, but rest assured Captain, that whenever you meet a Betazoid, that individual will respect your desire to keep your thoughts as private, just as readily as you yourself would respect the desire of another individual to keep his or her personal physical space as sacred."

When she trailed off, there was a strong note of reproach in her voice which surprised even herself. Why hadn't she told him she was only half Betazoid? That she would not have been capable of reading his thoughts even had she meant to. Perhaps it wasn't important. In any event, his comment would remain what it had been, as would her response. Why then, did she feel as though she should tell him?

Over the years, she'd become accustomed to the distrust of non telepathic species to her heritage. It was a defense mechanism, one which she'd studied in depth as a psychologist. And yet this particular man had managed to truly get to her on a level she wasn't even willing to analyze. It was difficult not to frown at the thought. She glanced down at the PADD next to her hands instead.

"I apologize, Counselor." Will Riker's voice brought her gaze level with his. "That was…extremely inconsiderate of me. Not only that, but I do know better." He sighed. "This is not an excuse, but I think that spending the entire day being poked and prodded in medical lab and then arriving here for the final lap...so to speak..." He shrugged. "All of it... has had a bit of an adverse effect on my frame of mind. I can only offer you my sincerest apologies for the way I've behaved."

Troi regarded him for a brief moment and then nodded slowly. "I suppose that's understandable." She even smiled half way. "Apology accepted."

He shook his head and awarded her a wry twist of the lips. "How about if we start over?" Clearing his throat, he extended his hand towards her.

"I'm William Riker. But my friends call me Will."

Their hands met and Deanna nearly pulled back at the contact. Something passed between them in an instant. A look? The touch, perhaps? Something ... Troi drove the impossibility from her mind just as she shut out the momentarily confused expression on his face which seemed to indicate he'd shared the sensation. She took his hand in hers and shook it firmly, instead.

"Deanna Troi. And I really don't have a nickname to share, unfortunately."

He shrugged offhandedly.

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Counselor Troi. We'll work on the nickname later." When he grinned widely at his own deliberate tease, she couldn't help the automatic way she seemed to want to share in whatever it was which lit up his features -- even though she knew that this session had already gotten off to an all too personal start.

She realized their hands hadn't separated. Glancing down at them and then back up at Riker, Troi extricated her fingers from his grasp and cleared her throat softly, choosing to ignore the tease, rather than chide him for it.

Regaining her own professional equilibrium, Deanna sat up straight and pretended to glance at the PADD in her hands.

"Well then Captain." She set the instrument down on the table before her. "Shall we talk about your promotion?"

"Absolutely." He grinned.

* * *

Chapter 5 "First Impressions"

Half an hour into their session, Troi leaned forward in her chair and sighed. They had moved past the initial unpleasantness of the first few questions, most of which he'd answered as honestly as he knew how to.

In truth, Captain Riker seemed quite capable. He was very dedicated, passionate about his career and the Federation; everything a good Starfleet Captain should be. Almost.

There were only a couple of nagging issues. Personality traits which remained of concern to her.

"So, in a position of command on board a Starship, how would you feel about the knowledge that a member of your crew, or perhaps several members, might need to be sacrificed at some point -- to save the greater majority?"

She gazed at him expectantly. Having taken the bridge officer's training exam herself before attaining the rank of full Commander, Deanna knew what it was that Starfleet expected of their ship's first officers. She also knew that there was a fundamental difference between that expectation and the expectation they held over their Captains which was far less equitable.

Riker appeared to ponder the question seriously for several silent instants, before he began:

"Losing a comrade has never been an easy thing to go through. In a position of command, losing any member of my crew would be a tragic event." He paused for a beat. "But every Starfleet officer understands that their lives may be called upon at some point. As a Captain, I couldn't allow my own personal feelings to interfere with the well being of my ship."

He glanced up at her and knew in an instant that she had hoped he might say something different. But what that was... he hadn't a clue.

"That was a very Starfleet text book answer, Will." Troi used the short form of his name, the way he'd asked her to after only five minutes of discussion.

"So what if it is?" He sat forward. "I'm a Starfleet officer."

She sighed. "Yes you are. And you hold the rank of Captain. A position which has implications that go beyond the black and white scenarios placed before us in our tactical examinations. For some of us, it's easier to allow a ship to be destroyed or lives to be lost when we're aware that we're undergoing a command simulation..."

"What are you saying?" This time, he rose from his seat and spoke down to her. "Counselor-- I've logged thousands of hours in real situations, out *there*" He pointed vaguely at the ceiling. "I'm not talking about some promotional exam here. I've watched men and women give up their lives in *real* encounters with *real* danger. Are you trying to tell me that I'm being some kind of unfeeling robot about this? How many hours have you logged in deep space, Counselor? How many personal friends have you lost?" It was impossible for him to keep the bitterness out of his voice and he knew it. But at this point, he was finding it very difficult to care.

Where did she get off? Lecturing him from some high and mighty pedestal about what it would 'be like' out there. He knew first hand what the risks were and he accepted them. Just the way that every other officer he'd ever had the privilege to serve with had accepted those very same risks. What did she want him to say?

"This isn't about me, Will." Troi said patiently.

"Then by all means, please tell me what you'd like to hear, Counselor. Because as far as I'm concerned, a Captain has a responsibility to his entire ship. Every member of his crew. Where tragedy can be averted, that is always the course of action to take, but in instances where that just isn't possible -- then it is *my* responsibility, to make sure that the fewest number of casualties remains the rule. At a time like that, personal feelings of loss or regret only serve to get in the way."

"In the way of what?" Troi pinned him with a serious gaze and he looked at her incredulously.

"In the way of logic! Decisions need to be made quickly, and accurately. There isn't any time for... for..."

"Compassion?" She ventured.

"You're damn right!"

"Captain, at the root of it, who do you believe is running your ship? Who is at the foundation?"

"My crew, of course."

"Your crew. A crew of over one thousand men and women, all of whom will be looking to you not only for leadership in some battle scenario, but in every day existence. In the day to day monotony of plotting new regions of space, or attending a diplomatic assignment. These are real people who, like it or not --- *Starfleet* or not--" She placed the same emphasis on the Fleet that he had, and Will's eyes smoldered. "-every one of them has emotions which go beyond 'duty'."

"They all knew the risks involved when they signed on... They're all professionals." He tossed back at her. She shook her head.

"Regardless. They're *people* and text book solutions to text book scenarios will not always be enough. Those are *guidelines*. Individuals are not always logical. No matter how well trained, no matter how professional you would like them to be. Even yourself, Captain. Were you to be given a Starship, everything from the daily morale of the officers to the minute idiosyncrasies of your crew would fall under your direct influence and command. Whatever the case, Will, there is what you might like to call a 'human factor' involved. Always."

Riker scowled. "Does every potential Starship Captain have to go through this particular line of questioning, or did I just get lucky?"

"There's no need to be petulant, Captain."

"Well, I find it difficult to believe that despite everything we're taught from the moment we enter Starfleet Academy as cadets --- our 'text book' training, as you're so fond of calling it --- is nothing more than a primer --- the bulk of which we have to toss right out an airlock the moment we take command of our own vessel."

"That is *not* what--" Deanna began fiercely. Perhaps more fiercely than she'd intended. Realizing her plight, the Counselor drew herself up short and took a deep, cleansing breath. She had to remind herself that half of the problem lay, not with the brash young Captain before her, but with Starfleet itself. It was an issue she had long taken objection to, and one which she was going to be bringing before the Federation Council within the week.

Sighing, Troi looked away from Riker, briefly before adding: "This is not a black and white issue Captain. Can't you see the inherent implications of your conviction?" Her voice was soft.

"Obviously not." He shook his head.

She rose from her chair and gathered the PADD into her hands.

"All right. I think we're finished here then." With a clinical air, Deanna opened the exam-room door and then turned towards her incredulous guest.

"You're dismissing me? Just like that?" His blue eyes mirrored the shock he'd been feeling.

"Just like that." She nodded. "I have all of the information I need."

Riker regarded her in silence for several long seconds.

"You're going to recommend against me, aren't you?" He finally whispered.

"You'll receive my report the same time Admiral Picard does." She gathered the PADD close to her and indicated the doorway through which he was to precede her.

He didn't.

"Now who's being a robot?" He asked venomously, taking three giant steps forward and vacating the room. "I can't believe this..."

Troi called after him as he strode down the hallway away from her. "Captain..."

He turned on his heel.

"Do some thinking. Please. I have a feeling you and I will have a chance to speak about this again."

This time, his face twisted into a smirk.

"Oh, you can bet on it, Counselor. Bet on it."

Spinning around, nearly shaking with rage, Captain William T. Riker completed his journey down the hall and into the turbolift at it's end.

So consumed was he by his own tumultuous thoughts that he didn't even stop to ponder at the flicker of heat; the burning sensation he'd been feeling for the past hour against one tiny spot on his torso all the way through the over tunic he wore. If he had, he might have realized that it had been coming from the precise location of the obsidian stone he now carried, and which he'd forgotten completely about.

* * *

Chapter 6 "Complications"

"But sir..." William Riker took a step forward towards his superior's desk and then stopped short when the older man looked up at him sternly.

"I haven't even received her report, Will. You can't complain to me about something that hasn't arrived at my desk yet. What do you expect me to do?"

Will's posture shifted uncomfortably. "Her line of questioning was deliberately antagonistic. I'm not accusing her of anything, I just feel that a second opinion would be in order--"

"I can't believe that's so. Captain -- have you any idea who you're referring to?" Picard leaned forward in his chair incredulously. "This is Deanna Troi, she's not just some upstart young officer. She's the head of Starfleet Psychology. Not only that, she's a decorated Doctor in her field. She chooses to go by the title of Counselor, but she's gone through years of additional training. You're asking me to disregard her evaluation -- which neither one of us has even seen yet -- on a hunch that it may not be favorable to your career?"

Will clasped his hands at his back and tried not to appear as flustered as he felt.

"Look. Will." The Admiral sighed deeply. "I respect your record as an officer."

"Thank you sir. I only hope that--"

"But I cannot refuse to acknowledge whatever the Counselor has to say in her analysis. To disregard her professional opinion would violate my own instinct in this matter. I'm afraid that I'll have to weigh the evidence and present it to the Council. Either way." Off of Riker's discomfited expression, the Admiral added:

"This is the Flag Ship of the Federation we're discussing. You may well be the best officer for the job, and I personally have no doubts about your abilities, Captain. But procedure is procedure and Deanna Troi has never been anything but fair and impartial."

Riker huffed.

"I beg your pardon, Captain?"

"Nothing sir."

"Good. Then if you'll excuse me, I'll await the report you're so dreading and who knows? Perhaps it's not as terrible as you imagine." The older man pinned his junior with an intense look and Riker nodded solemnly.

"Yes sir."

When Picard glanced up from his desk ten seconds later and found Will Riker still standing before it, he waved his hand. "Dismissed."

"Yes sir." The Captain retreated from his superior's office, carrying the distinct countenance of a beaten animal.

Just as Riker left, a tiny transmission light blinked in the peripheral of Picard's vision and he traced his finger over the author stamp. It was from Troi. No doubt the now-infamous personality profile he'd been expecting.

With a deep breath, he tapped the entry and watched it flicker to life on his screen where he skimmed it's contents briefly.

A shadowy figure in the corner of Picard's office stepped forward into the light and the Admiral glanced up from his reading just long enough to frown at her.

"Are you certain those two are going to get along?" He tapped the screen before him as though adding emphasis.

"Oh yes. They don't really have a choice in the matter." Guinan smiled enigmatically.

Picard glanced between his view-screen and his guest. "Everyone has a choice, Guinan." He spoke offhandedly, still reading the report before him and cringing visibly.

"Not these two. Not about this." The El'Aurian shrugged. "No matter how we might like to deny it, Jean-Luc, destiny has a way of playing her hand whether we're ready and willing or not."

This time it was Picard's turn to smile enigmatically. "Tell me something. When your people travel... backwards and forwards through time... do you ever hit the wrong dimension?"

With a teasing shake of the head, Picard spun the view screen around towards the El'Aurian and tapped it's surface.

"Very funny." Guinan smiled back at him, her eyes lighting on the text of the report before her. Picard watched as she skimmed the contents of the document, just as he had; watched her face contort into a sympathetic expression. Her teeth came together and she gritted them when next she glanced at him.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed quietly. The Admiral nodded sagely.

"Best friends, you said?"

"Better than best..." Guinan's expression transformed into a smile.

Picard cleared his throat. "We'd better get help." He leaned forward to tap at a control on his desk, but the El'Aurian placed her hand gently over his and shook her head.

"Uh uh, Admiral. Not yet." She wrinkled her nose affectionately. "Just wait..."

He removed his hand.

"Are you certain?"

She nodded. "All in good time."

* * *

Chapter 7 "Tag, you're it."

"Oh, thank GOD!"

The woman who held a Tricorder in her hand snapped it shut with a flourish and feigned collapse into a nearby chair.

Counselor Deanna Troi glanced up at her in amusement. "Should I call a medic?"

"Not if you value their life." With a flip of her hand, the woman seated across from Troi, brushed away a stray lock of long, auburn red hair which hung down over her forehead. When it wouldn't stay put, she blew at it in frustration.

Troi sighed deeply and came to sit next to her friend. She sank down into a second chair and there both women remained; unmoving, for several blissful seconds.

"I need a clone, Beverly." Deanna announced. Turning to the other woman --- one Doctor Beverly Crusher, who was herself head of the entirety of Starfleet Medical --- the Counselor frowned. "Have you figured out how to do clones yet? When can I have one?"

"Get in line." Crusher smirked. "Besides...they're illegal." She added. "And just think of how difficult it would be to maintain your vow of celibacy if there were a whole bunch of you running around, who knows what might happen?"

Deanna couldn't help the laugh which escaped her lips, though she turned to her friend and slapped her arm playfully. "I have *not* taken a vow of celibacy!"

"You haven't?" Crusher grinned evilly. "I could have sworn..."

"Look...Bev," Troi let out a slow breath. "Just because I don't want to fall into bed with every eligible sexual being who happens by, does not mean I'm going to join a convent."

Crusher shook her head. "You know I'm just teasing you, Deanna. Honestly, though, how long has it been? I worry about you... you need to get out more, have some *fun*."

"You're one to talk!"

"Well I'm older."

"Ha! Not *that* much older. Shall I polish your tombstone?"

"We don't have tombstones anymore."

"I know, but it sounded good." The Counselor smiled nostalgically. "My father used to tell me stories about them, in the ancient west..."

"Tombstones? How... sweet. My father used to teach me nursery rhymes." Beverly quipped dryly.

Several more moments of blissful silence ticked by and then:

"I suppose we're going to have to get out of these chairs... eventually." Deanna sighed.

"Eventually." Crusher echoed her.

"What time is it?" The younger woman murmured.

Obediently, the computer responded. ={The time is 21:13 hours}=

"You seemed a bit... agitated earlier, was something wrong?" Crusher turned in her chair to regard Troi.

"No, not really..." Deanna shook her head.

"Spill, Deanna. If we were on Betazed, you'd never answer a question like that." The Doctor reproached.

"We're not on Betazed. And I'm half human." Troi returned, almost petulantly.

"That bad, huh?"

"It was *not* a big deal." The Betazoid grumbled.

"Ohh, this is getting interesting already." Crusher smiled wryly.

"I need some chocolate." Troi reached behind her and removed the clip from her hair, freeing it.

"I need some rest."

"Why don't you head out then. I'll finish up here in a minute..."

"Not so fast." Beverly shook her head. "Not until you tell me why you were a loaded weapon all afternoon. I may have been three doors down, but that doesn't mean I didn't feel the impact of the waves you made today, Deanna. What happened?"

Troi sighed. "I had a rough interview."

"The Captain?"

"How did you...?"

"Hey, come on, I may be older but I'm not dead yet! Good looking, great blue eyes... second youngest commissioned Captain to get his own ship in Starfleet history, I hear." Beverly smiled.

"Not necessarily." Deanna chewed her lower lip distractedly.

"Why not?" Crusher leaned forward. "Deanna! You didn't... what could he possibly have said that would have made you this agitated about it?"

"Beverly... the man is completely--"

* * *

"Insensitive!" Will Riker dropped into what had become his regular seat at Casey's Lounge and yanked his beverage towards himself. "That's what her report said, Geordi!"

Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge cringed. It wasn't very often that easy going, live-life-as-it-came-at-him, Will (the thrill) Riker allowed himself to get this upset. Whomever this psychologist was, she sure had gotten to him...

LaForge cleared his throat. "Well ... maybe ... maybe she just meant that it was something you needed to--"

"Listen, Geordi," Will cut in, angrily. "She doesn't have a clue who I am. Not a clue! You know me, do you think I'm insensitive to other people's feelings?"

"I guess tha--"

"Do you honestly believe that I never pay attention to anyone but myself?"

"Well n--"

"That I don't make time for other people?" Will trailed off and pinned his comrade with a serious look. "Well? Say something..."

Geordi shook his head. "I've tried! Believe me! Look, I just think that maybe you need to put this into perspective, here. I mean, she didn't say you shouldn't Captain your own ship, she just wants to meet with you again..."

"In front of the whole damn Federation Council *and* Admiral Picard! What does she think? That she hasn't humiliated me enough yet? She needs a bigger playing field? How does a cobra like that get to be a psychologist anyway?" Riker downed his drink in one gulp and swallowed hard.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night, Captain." Geordi rose from the table and shook his head. "You need some time to think..." Will sighed. "You're damn right." He muttered.

"I'll see you at the briefing tomorrow...?"

"0800 sharp." This time, Riker raised his head and the familiar sparkle was back in his eyes. The one he seemed to get every time he crossed another hurdle towards taking command of his ship. The more senior staff he assembled, one at a time, the closer he felt to his goal.

"I'll be there." The Lieutenant Commander smiled and took his leave. When he was out of sight, Will sucked in a deep breath before grumbling into his empty cup:

"She is the absolute most--"

* * *

"Frustrating." Troi nodded at Beverly. "That's a good way to put it."

"Sounds promising." Crusher smiled.

"Bev, why is it that you always have to turn everything I say into some kind of clandestine sexual innuendo? Especially *this* --- him --- it's just--" She clenched her hands at her sides. "Ugh!"

"So I'm right." The doctor continued to grin.

"About what?"

"You think he's cute."

"I think he's annoying!" Deanna hissed in exasperation.

"But in a good way..."

In that instant, Troi thought she might love to wipe the smirk off of her friend's smiling face. Instead she rolled her eyes.

"This conversation is going nowhere."

"Just admit it, Deanna... he's adorable!" Crusher tossed the Betazoid a Cheshire smile.

"The word adorable isn't the word that comes to mind, no." She sighed.

"Okay, okay... I'll back off." Beverly shrugged.

"Thank the gods..."

"This time."

"Didn't you say you were exhausted?"

"You know, for a Betazoid, you're very manipulative." The older woman smirked.

Troi stuck her tongue out indignantly. "You haven't spent much time with my mother yet, obviously."

"Obviously..." Crusher rose dramatically to her feet. "I'll see you tomorrow...my eternally serious friend." Just as she'd spoken, a young nurse happened by and Beverly caught her arm. "Alyssa! What are you still doing here, let me walk you out."

"Sure doc..." Alyssa smiled. "I was just on my way anyhow." The two of them headed towards the door and Crusher looked back just once to toss a remark over her shoulder:

"Deanna... by the way, before we got sidetracked, I was going to mention to you... Casey's Lounge on waterfront has the most amazing new chocolate thing... That is, if you're still interested." She tipped her head and smiled, watching Deanna's frown transform into a thoughtful expression.

"And you call me manipulative." she called after them.

The two women then proceeded through the doorway and out into the hall beyond.

They had gone only a few meters when Alyssa turned to her superior. "Say, Casey's Lounge... Wasn't that the place Captain Riker was talking about earlier this afternoon?"

"Was it?" Beverly smiled innocently.

* * *

Chapter 8 "A Rock And A Hard Place"

Deanna Troi shifted the spoon she held in her hand and stared into the depths of her dark chocolate confection. For some reason, it didn't taste as sweet to her as it might have any other night, and a part of her wondered why, while another part of her knew the answer very well.

She was thinking of her latest promotion evaluation. Captain William T. Riker. A man whose service record shone nearly as brightly as his eyes when he smiled.

His eyes when he smiled? What was she thinking? Troi shook her head and took another spoonful of the delectable treat before her.

"May I get you anything else Counselor?" An apparently young bartender returned to check on her.

"No thanks." She would be done soon anyway. A little chocolate, a little relaxation, and perhaps... later on at home, a nice hot bath... the Counselor sighed.

"Well, well, well. You come here often?"

A familiar voice obviously directed at her suddenly jostled her from her thoughts. Her head tipped up to regard the intrusion.

It was him. Before she'd even managed to turn, a familiar sense of smug self confidence washed over her.

"High marks for originality, Captain." She responded without meeting his eyes..

He was standing off to one side, leaning against the bar and smiling down at her in an utterly disarming way. How did he do that? She didn't even know the man and yet somehow, when he looked at her that way, it lit a thousand fires within her in places she had no intention of analyzing. She banished the errant thought as careless and took a deep, cleansing breath. Obviously, he'd heard her evaluation by now. More than likely she was about to get an earful.

"It's a beautiful night." He remarked. "I suppose I was just a little surprised to see you around a place like this. Doesn't strike me as the kind of establishment that might be up your alley." Riker shrugged while Deanna's eyes widened, only slightly.

"And you would know me well enough to make such a supposition regarding my type of 'alley' -- you did say 'alley', didn't you?"

"Ouch. Touche." Riker mimed a knife through the heart. "Let me rephrase that. The first impression I received of you Counselor, upon our first meeting, didn't suggest this type of entertainment. To me. Not that I'm not absolutely delighted to have run into you this way." He qualified, smiling the entire time. She rolled her eyes.

"Honestly Captain... you're right." Troi headed him off at the pass. "I really just came by here to relax for a bit, and then head home. A friend recommended the place to me, and she was right. The chocolate is *wonderful*... But it's late and I'm...--"

"Not very easy to talk to..." Riker inclined his head and tossed her a wry look. "...for a Counselor."

She regarded him for several short moments, absorbing his remark and weighing it against her sudden desire to get up leave him standing there in the wake of a failed attempt at conversation. She finally sighed and shook her head in resignation. No matter her mood... there was no excuse for being rude. Certainly not when goaded in that direction, in any event. She narrowed her eyes at him instead.

"All right. You'd like to talk?" --

"Please."

"Here?" She gestured around them to the guests at the bar, some of whom had already turned to glance at the two good looking officers, engaged in conversation. No doubt the rumor mill would be flying by tomorrow afternoon. More cause for joy.

He shook his head and gestured farther inside. "I've got a table... over there."

Following his gaze, she noticed the spot. A quaint little out of the way table nearly hidden beneath the ceiling overhang. It was adjacent to one of the largest window portals within the entire establishment and it held the ambiance of a very relaxing, very conversation-oriented nook. She shrugged. What did she have to lose?

"Lead the way..."

He did.

* * *

When Riker pulled out a chair for her, Troi had to smile. He was definitely pouring on the charm thick and fast. And he obviously had a motive far more subtle than the usual physical advances she'd received from other men, even patients of hers, in the past. She could sense that much was true. But what exactly his precise intentions were, remained a mystery to the young Betazoid. That they had something to do with her evaluation was a given, yet she sensed no hostility from him, no anger at all. In fact, what she sensed from him in this instant was in direct contrast to the demeanor he projected outwardly. She felt his apprehension, anticipation, curiosity and a small measure of uncertainty... in point of fact, he seemed almost... worried.

Worried? That wasn't like the Will Riker she'd been reading about. Certainly not the brash young Commander, now Captain, whose service record she'd gone over in detail before presenting her report. That William T. Riker was a fighter and a survivor. He was a driven man with a career and a charismatic personality that seemed to attract people to him with magnetic certainty. He had very few personal cares and liked to live life by the seat of his pants... on the edge, the record had stated. She wondered...

"Are you all right, Captain?" She asked softly as he came to sit across from her.

"Fine." Riker smiled again, but this time she could tell that it was forced. "And please call me Will. We're not on duty and I'd rather we didn't have this discussion on the record."

She shrugged. "All right then, Will."

Something about the way she spoke his name in that instant made Riker's heart beat faster. When he'd seen her walk into the bar nearly half an hour ago, his first reaction had been confrontational. Well, perhaps that had been his second reaction; his first having actually been the sharp intake of breath he found himself holding as he watched her literally glide into the room. Even though it was obvious to anyone who cared to look that she was exhausted, Deanna Troi carried herself with the grace of a gazelle. And she was without a doubt, the most beautiful woman Riker had every laid eyes on. Heart stopping, even. But that did nothing to negate the fact that she was also the person responsible for his currently uncomfortable professional predicament. Or that she had a lot of answering to do on that count.

"I imagine you'd like to discuss the evaluation."

She spoke as if reading his mind. Hell, she probably had. He frowned. "Yes I would."

At his definitive answer, she pursed her lips. "I should tell you that I do not normally do this outside of regular office hours. It's not very professional..."

"I understand..." He raised his eyes to hers. "And I appreciate your taking the time... it's just that..." He trailed off suddenly and then whispered: "...You have the most incredible eyes..."

"Excuse me?" Troi leaned forward self consciously.

"I'm sorry." He continued to stare at her unabashed, though his apology rang sincerely. Riker shook his head as though he himself were at a loss to describe what had just happened. "You probably think I just said that because I--"

This time, he glanced down at his hands and cleared his throat. "I apologize." --

To her surprise, both his expression (and his feelings) were sincere. Yet perhaps even more startling to the young empath was the fact that she found herself feeling something she would never in a million years have admitted to: A keen sense of disappointment!

What was wrong with her? She had always prided herself in having both feet *firmly* planted on the ground. Who was *this* Will Riker to suddenly walk over to her and knock over every carefully placed apple she'd stacked into her cart? And to make matters worse... she'd only even known he existed for a little less than two days!

He sat forward. "Honestly? I'm a little out of my league here. I'm not trying to hit on you. Not overtly...but then, you probably already know that..."

His continued conversation drew her from her self deprecating thoughts, and she forced her face into a mask of tranquility as she listened to his explanation.

"When I looked up at you just now, I was thinking about how the play of the light was shining in your eyes -- and this may sound crazy to you, but I thought that it must have been a *loud* thought. At least, it was for me... and so I decided I might as well just say it -- out loud -- because you can probably..."

She listened as his voice trailed off, obviously uncomfortable; definitely at a loss for words. This man who quite obviously always had an answer for everything, suddenly tongue tied. She took pity on him.

"Actually, I can't." This time, it was her turn to stare at her hands on the table before her. "I'm only half Betazoid. My father was human, and I'm an empath, not a telepath."

She glanced up at him on completion of her admission and for some insane reason, she felt better about having told him. As though he deserved to know. Of course, she owed him nothing, and yet there was something about him...

He regarded her in surprise. "So you mean to tell me that you didn't...??"

She shook her head.

"... and you couldn't?"

Another shake of the head.

"But the other day, you made me think that you were..."

"I did no such thing." This time, Troi's voice was mildly indignant. "I simply did not offer a contradiction to your line of thought. It didn't seem necessary... at the time."

"Didn't seem necessary?" The incredulous, borderline angry look in Riker's eyes made her bristle.

"Look, Captain... among my people, telepathy is a way of life. We don't discuss it, or worry about whether or not anyone else can understand it. It just *is*."

"I thought you said you were half human?"

"I *am*."

"Well you'll have to excuse me, Counselor, but to listen to you talk..."

"I was born and raised on Betazed. My entire life was built around those customs and traditions until I joined Starfleet. It's the only background that I have, regardless of genetics. My father died when I was very young and -- and I can't believe I'm telling you all of this!" She looked away from him for a fraction of a second and then returned her gaze. "Who are you?"

The question was rhetorical and he knew it.

"I'm sorry." This time, his voice was soft.

"For what?"

"Your father. No matter how long ago it happened..."

Regardless of how hard she tried in that instant, Deanna couldn't help the way she ducked her head just then. Whether it was something in the sound of his voice, or merely the reminder of an old and painful memory brought forth without the opportunity to shield herself against it. The subtle gesture was enough for Riker, however. He noticed it, and hurried on.

"My mother died when I was just a kid, too."

For several poignant moments, neither spoke.

"Hey, maybe we have more in common than you think." He smiled as nonchalantly as possible. Troi didn't buy into his affected cover for an instant, but some part of her was grateful to him for offering her an olive branch. He hadn't had to tell her about his mother. He'd seen a moment of weakness in her, and yet rather than seize upon it in a way she knew for a fact he would have been capable, he'd opted to level the playing field, instead. Whatever his motives, he'd succeeded in making her feel less threatened. It was such a simple, honest gesture, that she found herself humbled by it.

"I never told them not to grant you your own Command, you know." Her voice was soft.

"But you might as well have." He leaned forward in his seat. "Look, Counselor..."

"Deanna." She surprised even herself with the correction, but it made him smile.

"Deanna." He nodded. "In two days you and I are going to stand before the Federation Council and discuss my ship. You stated there were problems that needed to be addressed, and that you couldn't recommend my Captaincy until they had been dealt with. What did you mean by that?"

Troi sighed, noticing for the first time that her chocolate had melted, likely some time ago. Finally, she spoke.

"There are issues which I believe Starfleet Command isn't giving the proper attention to. Serious issues which impact upon the lives and families of every starship they send out there..." She gestured towards one of the expansive starlit windows of the Lounge, overlooking San Francisco Bay.

"And what do these so called issues specifically have to do with me? With the Enterprise?" Riker appeared genuinely curious which prompted the Counselor to continue.

"Everything. Captain,"

"Will." He corrected her and she smiled at him before continuing.

"Will. The Enterprise is the first Galaxy Class Starship. She will hold a compliment of over a thousand people, many of whom will be families. She's a long range tactical and exploration vessel, but she's also the Flag Ship of the Federation. All of that means that there will be certain moments when dangerous physical conflict with a hostile race may become inevitable, and Starfleet recognizes those instances. We train our officers to handle these sorts of situations, do we not?" She watched his expression while he nodded.

"Of course -- Formally at the Academy and Starfleet's Tactical Command College. That and it's drilled into each and every one of us every day we're in space. I don't see your point..."

"My point is," She began, patiently. "...that in training our officers to handle conflict of a physical nature, we neglect a far more frequent, though potentially even more destructive type of conflict." Deanna leaned forward as she spoke. "While we're fully capable of defending ourselves against hostile alien attacks on our ship, we may find that we become woefully unable to cope with those other instances when the simple day to day routine of having hundreds of families on board what may be considered a floating city of sorts would become an enormous challenge in and of itself. Do you understand that as Captain you will also effectively be the Mayor of a small city?"

Riker frowned.

"Don't you see? How convenient is it to ship an officer, or a civilian member of the ship's compliment off to a nearby starbase, or planet side every time there is an internal conflict or sociological issue to deal with? And yet that's what our current antiquated system of command tells us we must do."

"Are you suggesting we shouldn't allow families on board?" The Captain shook his head. "Starfleet recognizes the right of all it's officers to keep their families close by. The Federation is based on the concept of maintaining that kind of understanding. How could we survive any other way?"

"I'm not suggesting there shouldn't be family on board, Will. I'm saying that every starship with a compliment of one hundred or more should have at least one full time Counselor on board at all times..."

Comprehension dawned on Riker and he began to nod... "That sounds reasonable..."

"...With active participation in the senior staff, and bridge duty as well." She finished.

"What?!" Riker's understanding of the situation suddenly hit a brick wall and he stared at Troi, dumbfounded. "You can't be serious!"

"Why not?" The Counselor shook her head.

"Because--" He shot back. "Because the chain of command on board a starship is a very delicate thing. Senior staff needs to work together, *within* a hierarchy. We can't have someone stopping us every five minutes to analyze our emotions every time we want to make a move. It would be counterproductive. My god, just verbalizing it makes it sound as if every ship should have a political officer like the ancient communist system of government on Earth - someone whose sole purpose is to make sure that we're thinking right!" Riker was truly appalled.

"Now you're being melodramatic." She pinned him with a serious gaze. "A trained Counselor can provide perspective on issues I don't think you've even begun to consider, Captain. Beyond that, since you're so worried, the chain of command would still be preserved. A Counselor, not unlike any other ship's medical officer, would just be another senior presence within an already established hierarchy." Troi was addressing him formally once again and he didn't even think to correct her.

"That may be so, but the current system has worked fine so far, Counselor. Why change it now?"

"Has it?" She respond.

"Look, I'm all for having a Counselor on board. Hell, bring on an entire psychological team and add them to the medical staff if that's what you're talking about, but to clutter the bridge with redundant personnel..."

"Redundant personnel!?"

Riker sighed loudly. "For a combat and command crew, yes."

"Am I to understand that you'd consider a psychological or sociological perspective on the bridge to be nothing more than excess clutter? Even in combat?" Troi's eyes grew darker, if that were possible.

"Well, I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but--"

"Don't bother backpedaling, mister, you already have." Troi suddenly rose from her seat, absolutely livid.

"Oh, give me a break." Will placed both hands on the table before him and half stood, meeting her gaze dead on. "Don't give me that sanctimonious, holier than thou speech, Counselor. I've heard it all before. It's a mean universe out there, lady. The simple fact is, I'm a trained tactical command officer. I'm the best damned tactical officer in the Fleet today, if I do say so myself and I've been through nine kinds of Hell that you will *never* understand in your entire sheltered life here on Earth. I know what it takes to command a ship, *any* ship, and *any* crew, and whether or not it scores me any brownie points with some committee of know-it-all psychologists down here planet side, I'll *still* make any decisions I need to make as Captain when I'm up there."

Troi's eyes narrowed at him and she shook her head in seething disgust. "You know something, *Captain*? I think I was right about you all along."

"Oh, really? And just what might that exalted *opinion* have entailed? Or do I have to wait until the Council meeting to hear that, too?" He shot back at her.

She rolled her eyes skyward and threw up her hands.

"Absolutely not, *sir*. Let me *tell* you *exactly* what I think. *I* think you are he most short sighted, self centered man I have ever met and one whose only joy in life is the accumulation of each new accolade which you might add to your service record and pin up on your wall." She turned from him and began to walk towards the door before tossing one final comment over her shoulder. "You don't *deserve* to Captain the Flag Ship of the Federation."

"And you haven't got a clue! You sit there with your high and mighty point of view, you want to deny me the Enterprise just because you have some damned personal axe to grind with Starfleet… Lady you're a hypocrite!" He yelled after her. But she'd already disappeared. And just as the last of her rounded the corner of the doorway, Will Riker slammed his fist into the table beneath him, knocking it over and sending a shower of melted chocolate cascading across the floor of the lounge.

"Hey!!" A female voice called out from behind the bar. But Riker was heedless of it. As he passed the hostess, he slapped several credit chips down onto the bar and stormed out the same door through which his angry companion had just fled. Damn her! He thought as he hurried after her into the night.

* * *

Chapter 9 "The Accident"

When Riker stepped outside the doorway to Casey's Lounge, he saw the Counselor walking briskly out into the open air of the deserted city square. Ambient light filtered down from above her, forming mottled patterns on the surface of the tarmac beneath her feet, and caught the edge of her waist-length coat with every step forward she took.

She had almost crossed the square entirely by the time Riker knew what he wanted to say to her. He wanted to let her know that this was far from over and that he wasn't about to just 'let it go'. Phrasing what he was going to say in his mind before he spoke, he sucked in a breath in preparation. He had intended to call out her name; to get her attention when -- she stopped, suddenly; dead in her tracks, she spun around and faced him.

His mouth hung open, he met her eyes across the distance and it became painfully obvious to him that she had sensed his intentions... somehow. She had known he was there...

But the expression on her face, though far away, conveyed neither fury nor anger. Instead, the look she threw him was one of shock and incredulity. She regarded him that way for an eternity of seconds, as though she were unable to accept something her senses had told her about him. If what she said were true, and she wasn't a full telepath, then there should have been no way for her to have read his thoughts across the distance, and yet the look in her eyes suggested otherwise.

Riker began to move toward her with a ground-eating stride, intending to close the gap between them and have this out with her once and for all.

Only he never made it to her in time.

A mid-size hover vessel appeared without warning from out of the darkness behind Deanna, cruising several feet above the ground as it sped towards one of the larger Starfleet complexes. It swept into the square from an adjacent corner and it was in that moment that everything spun horribly out of control.

Time compressed. Stood still. Before Riker could think, before he might even have called her name in earnest, the option was ripped away from him forever in an instant.

It was almost ironic, therefore, that she did somehow realize the danger. Troi must have sensed her plight through his fear for her; sensed his panic or the rush of terrified adrenaline which surged through his body in the instant before he would have verbalized a warning. Yet he'd had no time to do so.

And in that moment, while the Universe around them all but silenced to a heartbeat; measuring each moment as an hour, Deanna Troi knew that she had no chance in hell of escaping.

With only enough time to twist her body a few scant inches before the impact, there had never been the possibility to save herself entirely from it.

As though trapped within a surreal kaleidoscope of slow motion, Riker felt his own body lunge forward as he ran towards the site of the accident. He heard himself call out to the woman who now lay, a crumpled silhouette draped over patterns of light -- fallen to the ground where the impact of the vessel had thrown her.

A few interminable seconds later, he finally made it to her. Riker reached her prone position and was ready to throw himself on the careless pilot of the vessel when he realized that this too, would be impossible. The computer-navigated craft had been mindlessly empty. It slowed and stopped, bleeping mournfully at the interruption of its course. She must have stepped directly onto the automated pathway, without even knowing it. Even though it was clearly marked. She hadn't exactly been watching where she was headed. She'd been watching him, instead …

Thrusting shaking fingers into the pocket of his tunic, Riker closed his hand around what he thought was his communicator and felt a sharp stab of searing heat burn through his skin. With a hiss of agony, he shifted his hand until he had managed to locate what he was looking for. Pulling it out, he nearly crushed it in his hand as he called for help; requesting an emergency beam out with command authorization.

Gathering Troi's slight and inert body in his arms, he cradled her head against his chest. It struck him in a way he hadn't imagined possible when dark tumbles of her wayward curls slipped free of the clip which had restrained them until now, and spilled down over his arms while her body lay limply within his grasp. He knew only one thing for certain.

She couldn't die... she couldn't...

Less than a fraction of a second later, their proximal silhouettes merged, flickered in the night, and vanished.

* * *

The Counselor had been in the hands of a surgical team for hours.

Riker sat in chairs, two corridors away from the room in which a medical unit frantically struggled to save the life of the head of their psychology department.

He remembered the look on the face of the night duty nurse who admitted their beam-in. Taking stock of the situation in less than a second, her expression had changed in an instant when she'd realized that the woman whose life now hung in the balance was none other than one of the primary pivot points of Starfleet Medical.

All the color had drained from her expression as she'd issued a code Alpha One in barely a whisper, sending out a call that Dr. Crusher was to be paged immediately.

That call had begun a race against time, and Riker knew - a battle against death. Within seconds the emergency receiving area filled with people wearing surgical white, red and green. The rest of it seemed like a whirlwind to him. They'd whisked the Counselor away in an instant, and he had been lead to some waiting room.

There, left alone to his own devices, there had been little to do but go over the events of the evening, in detail, time and time again.

The conversation, the argument, her obvious desire to get as far away from him as possible, and his subsequent anger towards her. But anger for what?

Had he been angry at her over a disagreement in principal? Or had he been walking the same damn emotional wire he seemed to have found himself on every moment of every day since he'd first stepped into her office?

Honestly, he had no idea. If he were to look within himself, he might have admitted that for some reason he couldn't even fathom, her approval meant more to him than it's place in the simple attainment of his own command. And that despite the illogical implications of such a revelation, even in the midst of their most heated argument -- he had wanted her to understand him. For the first time in his life, it had been important to Will Riker that a perfect stranger cared what he thought or felt.

That was why he'd followed her out into the night. Not simply because he knew he needed her on his side with the Federation Council in two days, but because for her not to know why he felt the way he did --- was unthinkable. And he was damned if he knew why *that* was, either.

Fisting his hands in frustration at his sides, Riker grimaced and then gingerly drew his right palm out of the position, staring for the first time at the angry red mark which still burned when he touched it.

What the hell?

Reinserting his hand carefully into his pocket, he brushed his fingers over the stone he now remembered he'd placed inside. It was smooth and cool to the touch. He frowned. Something in there had hurt like hell not so long ago, and he would have bet a week's credits that the 'something' in question had been this mysterious stone. He'd have it looked at just as soon as he could; as soon as he knew how Deanna was doing.

Deanna... she had asked him to call her Deanna. But quite frankly, he probably didn't know her well enough yet to be taking that liberty, even in his own mind. Especially after what had just happened.

Riker was feeling particularly drawn out and exhausted when a woman with shoulder length copper hair suddenly burst into the room, carrying a surgical hood which she threw violently against the opposite wall.

He knew in an instant that he was about to be interrogated to within an inch of his life. It was just as well, anyway. He certainly deserved it.

"Just what the hell happened out there, Captain?"

She was wearing a three-quarter length blue, and somewhat bloodstained, lab coat. On her collar, the doctor's insignia followed by the unmistakable mark of Starfleet Medical's chief physician. Doctor Beverly Crusher, he presumed.

"Counselor Troi..." He began slowly. "...was struck by an automated civilian transport vehicle. I tried to get to her before it happened but she..." He dropped his head. "She was too far away. There wasn't any time."

Crusher regarded him with a cold expression for several long moments. "Apparently, the vessel's flight recorder seems to substantiate your story," She began. "What I want to know is... what was Deanna Troi doing out in the middle of an established transport pathway, by herself, in the dead of night, Captain?" There was no mistaking the accusation in her voice this time. Riker nodded slowly.

"She and I had been having a conversation at Casey's Lounge, Doctor. It ... turned into an argument. She left angry and I went after her. When I got outside, I called out to her and she turned around. She must have been standing in the hoverpath at the time. Neither one of us realized..." He took a deep breath. "If I hadn't provoked her, she would never have been where she was." He left out the part about his having not actually voiced the call to her at all. Some things were best left unsaid in certain situations, and this, he believed, was one of those situations. Swallowing the growing unease in his chest, he asked: "Will she be all right, Doctor?"

Even without being an empath, Beverly could tell that this man was nearly desperate with fear for the Counselor's life. But whether that fear was in response to his feelings about the Counselor herself, or to the fact that his own guilt might never be assuaged, she couldn't be certain.

Crusher nodded slowly. "We think so. She's not conscious yet. There was extensive internal damage, and it was touch and go there for a while but she is stabilized. At least for now. I'd appreciate it if you didn't leave, Captain. Admiral Picard is on his way, and he wants to speak with you as well."

Riker affirmed her request and sank back down into one of the chairs beneath him. Thank God. She would be okay...

"Doctor?" He called out to her just as she'd turned to leave. "I know she's your friend. I'm so sorry."

For a time, Beverly said nothing, merely regarded him appraisingly, and then:

"You know, Captain. Deanna is famous for speaking her mind and for being eternally stubborn about changing it. Whatever else happened between you and she tonight ... the accident doesn't appear to have been your fault." It didn't make him feel any better. She afforded him a tired nod and then took her leave, leaving Riker to battle his own demons.

It was to be a war perhaps more powerful than the young Starfleet Captain might ever have known he could face.

Chapter 10 "Implications"

When it became obvious that the Admiral had been detained at Starfleet Command, Riker found himself pacing back and forth inside of the small waiting room to which he'd been assigned. The paleness of dawn had begun to creep into the eastern sky outside of the room's solitary window and the hours of being alone had begun to force his mind to prey upon his most horrible conjectures.

He was about to leave; to find someone to ask for some more 'personal' answers to his questions when Doctor Crusher poked her head into the room and smiled wanly at him.

"You've been in here for hours now. I'm sorry but in all that's been going on we sort of forgot about you. I imagine you must be going crazy."

"Something like that." He admitted, shaking his head. "Could I maybe see the Counselor? Does she have a room? I know that she and I weren't close or anything, I didn't know her very well yet, but I--"

"No need to explain." Beverly cut him off. "I don't see any reason why not. She's alone right now, she's still not conscious yet and we won't induce her to wake up until she's had a little more time to heal. But you can sit with her for a little while if you'd like. I'll come and get you when the Admiral arrives."

He awarded her with a tired smile and a soft. "Thank you."

Being led down the austere corridors of Starfleet Medical's critical care center, Riker noticed -- not for the first time -- that the facility literally hummed with activity. It was a testament to the knowledge and technology of centuries of medical practice, and it was that knowledge and technology which had saved Deanna Troi's life this day. But was this level of capability available anywhere else in the galaxy? Certainly a patient treated here would have every opportunity to recover, yet Riker knew very well that on a Starship, even one with the best Chief Medical Officer possible, there were limitations which didn't exist in here.

He sighed. Perhaps Deanna was right about some of it. It was something to think about, at least.

When they arrived at the Counselor's room, Doctor Crusher turned to him one last time.

"This is it. You'll find that there's not much clutter inside, apart from a chair we pulled in. If we need to get in here quickly, you'll have to get out of the way in a hurry. Don't panic, just let us do our job."

He nodded and she punched in the access code for the door which slid dutifully open. He stepped inside and heard the mechanism hiss shut behind him, leaving him enclosed in the small space along with Troi.

The Counselor lay on a bio-bed only a few feet away, her body had been loosely covered with a standard issue hospital blanket and her hair fanned out behind her head, softening her features.

Taking a seat next to her, Riker cleared his throat softly and found that he had no idea what to do or say next. The steady in and out of her breathing was barely audible over the thrum of the computer monitor above her head, and she looked -- paradoxically peaceful.

Will fidgeted with his hands in his lap for a few silent moments before he finally allowed himself to really look at her. To take responsibility for the fact that he was the reason she was in here, and that if he hadn't been so cavalier about his damned principles, she might be walking around right now, reminding him once again of just how selfish he truly was.

She'd been right about that. He realized that now. Making it to the top the way he had, there'd been little opportunity to stop and worry about the hurt feelings of others along the way. It wasn't that he was a heartless person, he didn't think so at least, it was just that when an individual made themselves a set of objectives in life, there were certain sacrifices which necessarily needed to be made in order to achieve the larger picture. He had known that as a simple truth, and he had accepted that simple truth absolutely... until tonight.

"So I guess, this wasn't exactly the way either one of us planned on spending the evening, was it?" Riker spoke quietly, staring down at the beautiful young empath.

"I don't know if you can hear me but... I guess there's never a great way to say something like this. Maybe it's better that you can't hear me. I'm sorry, Deanna. I'm so sorry that this happened to you. I wish it had been me instead. I swear that if I could have taken your place I would turn back time to be able to do it ... You don't deserve this. Any of it."

Though she couldn't respond, Riker knew that he had to say the words even so.

"You probably think I'm a jerk, and I can't really blame you for that." He shook his head wryly. "I know I act like one often enough, but it's not really who I am. You have to realize that I have a career. A reputation to uphold. Just between you and me..." He leaned in closer and whispered... "I'm not always as sure of myself as I try and make everyone believe. But I think you knew that..."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence for the young Captain, and then he cleared his throat.

"Believe me, that wasn't easy to say, either...in, um, in case you hadn't noticed yet, I've never been very good at talking about... the way I'm feeling." He sighed ruefully.

"To be honest, I know I'm good at being a Starship officer. A Starship Captain, even... but that's about *all* I know for a fact. As for the rest of it... maybe you're right. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a Counselor on board, if only to keep me from making an ass of myself. What do you think?"

It was odd, but in that instant, he could almost talk himself into believing that she'd laughed at him. He remembered the way she'd smiled knowingly the first time he laid eyes on her. The musical sound of her voice...

The intrusion of the door unexpectedly hissing open behind him forced his thoughts back into real time and he turned around.

"Doctor? Admiral..." Riker rose from his seat as the two officers entered the room with him.

"Off the record, Captain," Admiral Picard nodded to his junior officer. "Doctor Crusher has informed me of what happened. I think all of us are in a state of shock right now. But according to the logs of the vessel and the first hand account of one witness nearby, you were not responsible in any way for what happened."

"Wasn't I?" Riker smiled bitterly. "If we hadn't argued, she wouldn't have left when she did."

"You know better than that, Captain. It's not always possible to second guess fate."

"I don't believe in fate, sir."

"That's unfortunate..." This time, there was a new voice. A female voice, which entered the room behind the Doctor and the Admiral. When she emerged into the dim lighting, Riker's jaw hit the floor.

"You--" He began. "You're the woman who gave me--"

"That's a nasty burn you've got on your hand there, Captain. Where did you get it?" The woman who called herself Guinan gestured towards Will and he narrowed his eyes.

For her part, Doctor Crusher took a step forward and grasped Riker's palm in her own hand, turning it over and examining the angry red mark.

"How did you know about this?" Will asked.

Guinan shrugged. "I know many things, Captain."

"Is she a friend of yours, sir?" Will turned his line of interrogation towards his superior officer, but the older man shook his head.

"There'll be time enough for that later, Captain. For the moment, I think it would be best if you accompanied Doctor Crusher and myself to her office."

Feeling as though he were a puppet who's strings had just been pulled in several directions at once, Will inclined his head and sighed. If there were moments when he wondered why he'd ever enlisted in Starfleet, this would have qualified as one of them.

Doctor Crusher extracted a small medical device from her coat pocket and ran it across his palm slowly one time, and then another. She pursed her lips.

"Now this is odd..." Her eyes rose up to meet Picard's. "The dermal regenerator isn't having any effect. Do you have any idea what caused this?"

"It will fade on it's own, with time." Guinan's voice interrupted the Doctor's query and the human woman frowned but made no further comment.

Riker retrieved his hand with a wary glance at the angry burn on his palm.

"Shall we?" The Admiral asked, gesturing to the entryway. Will saw the Doctor's slight nod, after which the four made their way back out into the hall, and down the corridor towards Beverly's office.

* * *

After nearly an hour in Doctor Crusher's office, Riker was ready to explode. He was exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally. And he was no nearer to figuring out what the hell was going on with this 'Guinan' woman than he had been when they'd first arrived.

Tossing the El'Aurian a suspicious glance, Riker finally spoke up.

"You seem to get around a lot. You work for Starfleet Command?"

"Not exactly." She purred. "I work with Starfleet Command, but I've never worked *for* them."

"Well, that was perfectly vague." Will waved his hand in the air dismissively. His patience had worn paper thin hours ago. Now he was barely hanging onto his anger by a thread. After the events of the previous few hours, he may have had only one nerve left alive in his entire body, and this woman was managing to get on it. He decided to try a different tactic.

"Care to tell me what exactly this thing is, then?" He extracted the smooth obsidian stone from his pocket and held it aloft in his hand.

A slight smile touched the corners of the El'Aurian's lips. "Of course. It's an El'Aurian Soul Stone."

Picard tossed Guinan an unidentifiable look, but she didn't seem to notice it. She was about to continue in fact, when the Doctor's COMM link suddenly beeped.

={Ogawa to Crusher}=

The head of Starfleet Medical tapped her badge.

"Crusher here"

={Deanna's regained consciousness, Doctor. She's disoriented, but her vitals are well within normal parameters}=

"That's wonderful news Alyssa." Crusher smiled widely. "I'll be down there in just a few minutes. Keep her comfortable until I arrive."

={Acknowledged}=

"Crusher out."

"I've got to go check on Deanna..." Beverly nodded at the three other occupants in her office and Riker took a step forward.

"I'll go with you."

The Doctor nodded briefly and the two left the room together. Picard turned to Guinan the moment they'd disappeared.

"I thought you said that we couldn't tell them anything?" He challenged.

She smiled. "I said that we couldn't say anything to them which might alter the timeline any more than necessary. What I just told our young Captain *was* necessary."

The Admiral shook his head.

"But you didn't have a chance to finish..."

"It was enough." The El'Aurian sighed. "If I know Will Riker, he'll figure out the rest -- eventually."

"I hope so..." Picard thinned his lips. "For all our sakes."

Guinan was silent.

* * *

Chapter 11 "The First Time"

Riker had been waiting a short ways down the hallway from Troi's room for nearly half an hour when Doctor Crusher finally reemerged. Though she had left the door to the young empath's room open upon entry, Will had felt it might be better if he kept out of sight for a while. At least until the Doctor told him it would be all right to go in.

Truthfully, though he would never have admitted it aloud, he was more than a little nervous about seeing Deanna again, awake and fully alert this time.

"It looks like she's going to be just fine." Beverly Crusher smiled at the obviously discomfited officer skulking in her hallway and Riker couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips. These had been the first words of relief he'd heard from her in hours. He shut his eyes for a moment.

"I know you were worried, Captain." Crusher continued, regarding him seriously. "At first I wasn't sure why. But now it seems to me that you've been genuinely concerned about her and not simply your own conscience. I like that about you. It tells me that you're a good man -- in spite of being a Starfleet issue egomaniac." She pinned him with a direct gaze. "I'm certainly not empathic, but I do pride myself on being a pretty good judge of character, and I would say that you, Mister Riker, are probably more nervous and confused than anything else right now. That's very sweet, actually. It's no wonder she likes you..."

Riker tipped his head as if to question her line of logic, but she belayed him with a gesture of her hand.

"Nevermind. It's too early in the morning for either one of us to be having this conversation." Off her wry smile, he opted to keep his thoughts to himself. "Are you sure you don't just want to get some rest first? You can come back and see her in a few hours, she doesn't even know you're here right now and I'm sure she wouldn't mind... You look terrible. If you don't mind my saying so. You could use a good night's rest." She chided him maternally and he felt just like he were a kid in that moment.

Still, there was something about Doctor Crusher that made him believe he could trust her. Something comforting in the candid, offhand way she seemed to tackle every situation. He admired her honesty, almost as much as he admired Deanna Troi's. It was little wonder that the two women were famous friends.

"Thank you Doctor. But I'd like to go in for a bit, if that's okay."

Beverly nodded. "Just keep it short. Don't tire her out, and if you feel an argument coming on--"

He shook his head emphatically. "Scout's honor."

Crusher raised her eyebrows. "Why Captain, I'd never have guessed."

He chuckled. "And you'd better not tell anyone, either."

"Oh, I promise." She smiled brightly at him, and then turned on her heel, humming softly while she made her way down the corridor. When she was almost out of earshot, Riker heard her utter one final remark:

"No wonder at all."

He furrowed his brow for a brief moment and then shrugged the errant thought away. Whatever she'd meant by that, he had more important things to think about right now.

Turning his attention back to Troi's doorway, Riker sucked in a deep breath of air. What was there to be nervous about anyway? He'd visited hundreds of people in medical facilities before. This was no different. Was it?

Before he could formulate a coherent response to his own question, he heard a voice from inside the room and looked up.

"You can come in, you know, Captain. You've been skulking around out there for nearly an hour now. I won't bite, I promise." It was Deanna's voice -- and it had the same effect on him that it always had. His heart skipped a beat.

Deliberately placing one foot in front of the other, he turned the corner of the corridor and found himself standing within the confines of the same tiny critical care room once again. It looked exactly as it had a few hours earlier, except that it seemed brighter this time, for some reason. Perhaps it was her...

His gaze was drawn towards her where she sat, half propped against the back of the bio-bed. Her hair had been brushed out to it's full length and despite her surroundings, she looked to him to be as calm and collected as the first time he'd seen her. And just as beautiful.

She shifted, somewhat uncomfortably, and he saw her cringe as she attempted to straighten her seated position a little. It was evident that she was still in some pain; discomfort at least. But her large, luminous eyes regarded him thoughtfully for several silent moments, and then she smiled. It was a small, very unassuming gesture and yet it said: 'I forgive you' and 'it wasn't your fault' all in one instant. He wasn't sure exactly how it was he knew those things. He simply did. Somehow, it was all caught up in the way of her; the way of her which seemed to find passage inside of him no matter how hard he tried to keep himself at arms length.

How could someone he'd only known for just over forty-eight hours, have this kind of an impact on him? He swallowed and tried not to examine the thought too closely, lest he lose his grip on sanity all together.

"I'm glad that you're okay." He found his voice was hoarse and cleared his throat. "I, I mean I watched what happened to you, out there." He pulled up a chair and sat down next to her. "I don't think I've ever felt more helpless in my entire life."

She nodded slowly. "I suppose I was lucky. That you were there."

This time she watched him look away for a moment, and when his eyes returned to hers, she could see the regret reflected within them as clearly as she could feel the emotion in his heart.

"It was my fault, Counselor, I'm so--"

"Deanna. Remember? We had an agreement." She cut him off, but her smile was warm and genuine, and he felt like a total heel at the realization that she had found a way to forgive him before he'd even been able to contemplate the action for himself.

"I remember." He nodded. When she attempted to sit farther upright, he heard her groan softly and moved to help her instantly.

"Are you okay?" He whispered.

"I'm fine. I think the more appropriate question right now should be, are you?"

"Me?" He stepped backward in surprise. "Why shouldn't I be...?" And then it hit him. "Oh, I get it. Some manifestation of 'survivor' guilt? Or eye witness stress related illness? You really don't take any time off, do you?"

She threw him a tolerant look and he dropped his shoulders, rebuked. "Sorry."

"For what? Will, you don't have to walk on eggshells around me from now on. And whether you choose to discuss them or not, your feelings about what happened are real."

"I was worried about you. I don't think there's anything abnormal about that. You were in a major accident the cause of which was likely my own arrogance." He shot back at her, and regretted his tone of voice immediately. She didn't seem to have taken offense to it, however, she simply regarded him with those two incredible eyes, until he had no idea what to think next.

"Well I'm not sensing any worry for your 'own arrogance', as you put it, Captain. I can tell that you were worried about me, and that you still are, but you're not thinking about yourself at all right now."

"I--" He began, but then fell silent almost immediately.

Deanna reached out from where she sat and suddenly took his hand in hers. "Will..." She forced him to meet her eyes. "It's normal to feel this way. It's okay to be human..."

For a long time, he simply stared at her, and then the corners of his lips were touched with a smile. "You really think so?"

Her eyes lit up at the reference, and she afforded him a coy look. "Point taken."

"So, you think maybe we can be friends, someday, Counselor?"

"I'd like that very much."

"Well I'm glad to hear that, because I've been thinking about what you said to me last night... before... well, what we were talking about with regard to the position of Ship's Counselor."

"I'm impressed. I had no idea that all I had to do to get you to hear me out was allow myself to be run over by a transport--" She smiled at him and he had the decency to look chided.

"You know, I still don't completely agree about the bridge duty." He continued. She sighed.

"It looks as though it won't matter in any event. Beverly says I'm going to be here at least another twenty-four hours and that means I'll be forced to miss the meeting of the Council this afternoon. You'll likely have a captive audience."

"I see." Was all he said. And there was silence between them once again, until they seemed to realize simultaneously that their hands were still joined. Breaking contact with an awkward downward glance, Deanna noticed the angry red mark on his palm and she stopped him from hiding it.

"What is that?" She took his hand and turned it over in hers. "When did this happen?"

"It's nothing. I guess I burned myself..." He shrugged.

"I can see that. Did it happen last night?" A look of concern crossed her features and he suddenly felt as though it were important that he dispel it immediately.

"Actually, yes. It had nothing to do with the accident though. It was this..." Reaching into his pocket, Riker extracted the smooth, round stone and held in his other palm.

Deanna stared at it quizzically for a moment and then met his eyes. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure. The woman who gave it to me called it an 'El'Aurian Soul Stone', or something like that." His gaze narrowed in thought. "All I know is that it gets really hot sometimes, and I can't figure out why...it's pretty warm right now, in fact. But earlier, in Doctor Crusher's office, it was cool to the touch." He frowned.

"That sounds fascinating." Troi leaned forward, carefully. "I've never heard of anything like that, and I used to study Geology."

"You did?" She was just full of surprises, this Counselor. Another thought to be filed away for later reference. "And you've never seen anything like this... anywhere?" His puzzled frown grew deeper.

"Well, on the surface, it looks like a piece of obsidian, but the type of reaction you just described isn't anything I've ever heard of before. There are some rock formations on Regalla V which grow warm when touched, but the response is always the same. What you've suggested seems to indicate that this stone behaves intermittently. I wonder what causes it? And why do you keep it, if it's dangerous?"

He shook his head.

"I don't know." He admitted. "For some reason, it intrigues me."

"May I?" She asked, extending her hand, but he balked.

"... What if it gets hot again?"

"Captain..." She sighed patiently.

"Okay. All right. But don't say I didn't warn you." He held out the stone once again and she reached for it, extending her hand over his until she was almost able to touch, it...

And that was when it happened.

As her fingers brushed the surface of the tiny, smooth object in his hand, Troi felt a rush of warmth suddenly flood her entire being. Instinctively, she tried to draw her hand away, but found that it was impossible. The sensation in her palm was not unpleasant. Quite the contrary, in fact, it was as though someone had poured warm water over her whole being, and it was flowing outward from the inset of her hand, to the rest of her body.

Riker's eyes grew wide as he suddenly realized that something was happening. Not only could he not remove his hand from Troi's but the conscious touch he kept with reality had begun to slip away. Vivid imagery... familiar and yet, not... began tumbling like a kaleidoscope across his memory.

There was Deanna as a little girl, playing in her room. He could see her as clearly as though he were there with her in that very instant and yet he knew that he was not; that somehow this was *her* memory he was sharing, not his own.

A man, tall and handsome and very warm, came to stand beside her and she reached out to him, laughing the sweet carefree laughter of a child as she was swung onto his shoulders and spun around gleefully.

Her father. It was her father. How he knew that wasn't nearly as important as the fact that he could feel everything she was feeling, and he knew every thought as though it were his own.

She was so happy, so filled with love and joy... and then suddenly it was gone. Like so many shards of broken glass, the image shattered around him and there was an older little girl, shrouded in sadness and loss. And she did not cry, though every fiber of Will's entire being felt as though it longed to sob openly, with her.

He saw her studying at University, next. He took the role of the silent watcher while she soared through the Academy, and took her place among the best of the best of it's graduates.

An entire lifetime in an instant seemed to flicker by, until he was breathless at it's culmination, in the present.

*

Deanna stood in the distance of a quiet grave site. She saw a little boy, staring down over the shimmering holographic reminder of the woman who lay beneath his feet, and she felt the desperate sadness of a child who'd lost his mother. The fear and loneliness which gripped his tiny heart was overwhelming, and she knew that she was crying right along with him.

It was Will Riker. She knew that it was, and yet she hadn't seen him for more than a few instants.

Suddenly, he was a teenager. There were voices, loud, shouting voices, and an older presence who called out to his son and told him that he'd never amount to anything worthwhile.

She watched the boy, nearly a man, escape from the home he'd been raised in and run; run almost tragically out into the night. He would never come back. She knew in her heart that he had made that vow just then. And that he would never let anyone hurt him that way again.

*

As quickly and compellingly as they had started, the visions came to an abrupt and final end, and both Riker and Troi jerked backwards in response to the sudden freedom of their bodies. The stone fell silently onto the Counselor's bed.

For a second, while their senses reoriented to reality and their minds raced to analyze what had occurred between them; the truths they knew they had shared with one another --- neither he nor she was willing to speak.

Then, when he raised his eyes to meet hers; saw that there were teardrops reflected in her gaze, Riker knew that something had changed irrevocably for him in an instant...

Without saying a word, he pulled his hand back, retrieved the tiny stone and placed it back into his pocket, refusing even to glance at it. He stood from his chair.

Though he paused for several eternal seconds at the doorway to her room, he couldn't bring himself to turn around and look at her again. Not when he knew what he would see in her eyes. And felt fearful at what she might see in his.

She understood. He could *feel* that she understood and yet -- that wasn't possible! How could it be possible? No one could understand that part of him. No one ever had. So why was he so sure that she did? Why did he feel as though everything he'd ever been certain of in his life was spinning out of control?

She hadn't spoken yet either. And so it was easier for him when he took the first step through her doorway and hurried outside. Never once looking back. If he had, he might have seen the teardrops in her eyes; felt the weight of the beginnings of an emotion from which he had guarded himself his entire lifetime -- and been both terrified and liberated --- all at once.

Instead, Riker felt a rush of cool air on his face as he burst forth from the doors of the primary medical building complex. Raising his eyes upward into the pre-dawn sky, he sucked in breath after breath of the crisp, autumn breeze.

Freedom.

He swallowed hard. Freedom from what?

* * *

Chapter 12 "Surprises" (Part I)

Renoa had tended bar for long than most of her customers had been alive. Though she held the outward appearance of a human woman not too far into her thirtieth year, the two hundred and fourteen year old El'Aurian had seen more of the known galaxy than almost any living Federation Starship Captain could lay claim to, and she had finally come to realize what many of her people did upon reaching their second century: That in order to attain the gifts of knowledge, one must first bear the burden of patience.

That axiom had been proven to hold true whether one chose to scurry across the universe in search of new meaning, or simply to bide their time at some information gleaning task for a while; a task such as tending bar. It was no surprise, therefore, that so many El'Aurians had chosen the profession and kept it.

"What'll you have, Counselor?"

Renoa smiled at the young woman sitting before her. The head of Starfleet Psychology wasn't a frequent visitor to this bar, and were it not for the exchange Renoa herself had witnessed the other night, the El'Aurian might have wondered why Troi had even returned to the establishment. It didn't seem to suit her.

Tonight, the Counselor was lost in thought, and so the older woman tried again.

"Counselor?"

Deanna glanced up at her host.

"I'm sorry, I must have been day-dreaming."

"No need to apologize. People generally come in here to unwind after a long duty shift. In your case, it must be twice as tiring, considering you're still recovering from that horrible accident a few days ago. Whatever you're having, it's on the house." Renoa smiled.

"Oh, I'm fine, honestly. People have been wonderful about it, but I've really been physically back to normal for nearly two days now." The young empath shrugged. "Something chocolate would be wonderful..."

"Coming right up. I have just the thing."

Within minutes, Deanna was savoring the sweet dessert, and so wrapped up in her thoughts, that she didn't even notice it when another woman joined her in the next seat.

"I thought I might find you here." Beverly Crusher grinned at her friend.

"Beverly." Troi returned her friend's smile, warmly.

"So why the long face?"

Deanna shook her head. "There's nothing wrong. Honestly, I was just day-dreaming...'unwinding'." She tossed a look at Renoa, who was busy serving another patron.

"Thinking about Captain Riker?"

This time, Troi frowned. "Riker? Why would you say that?"

"Oh, I don't know," The Doctor shrugged. "...maybe because ever since he came to see you in the crit-care unit three days ago, you've been acting as though you're living in another world. You're distant, easily distracted..."

"Are you saying I'm not doing my job?" The Counselor narrowed her eyes.

"No, you're doing fine, technically. But I'm your friend. I can tell when something's different and something is definitely different with you lately. Did he say something to upset you?"

"No."

Crusher watched her for several silent seconds.

"No? Just 'no'? No explanation, no further comment?"

"Not really, no." Deanna reached up and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear impatiently.

"I see."

Suddenly, Troi sighed. "Beverly, it's complicated."

"Complicated, how? You've only known him for a few days, what could be complicated? I thought you told me he was a just another Captain on his way into the big chair... or... has something changed between you two in the past forty-eight hours?"

When Deanna didn't respond, Beverly drew in a sharp breath. "You're kidding?"

"No, no..." Troi turned to her friend and shook her head emphatically. "Beverly, it's nothing like that, honestly, it's -- I really can't explain it to you. I wish that I could, but I can't." She pinned her with a meaningful look and Crusher finally nodded.

"I understand. This is a confidentiality issue."

Deanna exhaled slowly and moved her head in a circular motion; neither a nod, nor a negation.

"Partly, maybe... I'm not entirely sure myself."

"Uh, huh." The Doctor cleared her throat. "So that's my cue to back off, right?"

"Just for now, Beverly. You know I love you dearly, you're a wonderful friend, but I just can't talk about this right now. Not yet, anyway."

"All right. So how about I congratulate you instead."

"Congratulate me? For what?"

"For getting your point across with Starfleet Command. They were sold on your idea, Deanna. The Enterprise will have a full time ship's Counselor on board. It's wonderful news! Except that the process has set back the ship's departure date by over a month."

"What?!" Troi pivoted around in her seat, and were her jaw not attached to her face, it would likely have clattered to the floor. "How...?"

"You didn't know?"

At her friend's mute expression, Beverly gasped. "God, Deanna, it's been all over the complex for the past five hours. I can't believe you missed it. But come to think of it, I was a little surprised myself, considering you weren't able to make the council meeting. Whatever you said to Will Riker must have sunk in, because he presented your case to Fleet Command right along with his own. You gotta give the man some credit, he's got moxy."

"But … how could he have presented my case along with his own? The two were diametrically opposed." She shook her head.

"I have no idea. But I saw the transcripts, he gave them the exact same story you've been giving all of us for the past four years. He must have pulled every paper you've written on the subject. He presented it fairly on your behalf, considering you were unable to be there. He argued his counter case just as convincingly. Deanna, he must have had to eat a lot of crow when you consider that the council sided with you, in the end. You really had no idea about this?"

"Not a clue. Gods, Beverly. I can't believe he did that." She was still shaking her head.

"I can." Crusher smirked.

"What was that?"

"I said..." Beverly paused for a beat and then seemed to come to some sort of decision. "...what are you going to do about it?"

Deanna narrowed her eyes. "That wasn't what you said."

"No, it wasn't." Crusher smiled.

* * *

"Look, I'm tired, I'm all out of things to say ... I think I'm just going to go back to my room and turn in for the evening." Captain Will Riker idly tumbled a tiny obsidian stone through his fingertips while he spoke.

"But sir, you haven't said anything about *why* Starfleet Command decided to assign us a ship's Counselor this late in the game. It just doesn't add up..." Lieutenant Geordi LaForge frowned. In the years he'd known William T. Riker, he hadn't ever seen him quite this -- distracted. It was that accident. It had to be, the one with the Betazoid commander. He'd been moody and preoccupied ever since that night. But why?

"Geordi..." Riker tossed his friend a tired smile. "I really can't say. Honestly..."

"I know, I know, you can't discuss the particulars of the proceedings, but there's got to be *something* right?"

"Yes, there's definitely *something*" Riker smirked.

"But you aren't at liberty..."

"Now you're catching on."

"I see."

"I hope so." This time, the Captain shrugged. "Look, I'm getting out of here. You coming?"

Geordi shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll stick around and pretend I understood the conversation we just had." The younger officer smiled. Will nodded.

"Suit yourself. You've got an extra month to prepare now, it seems. So enjoy it while it lasts."

"Believe me sir, I'm just as anxious to get back up there as you are. This isn't a welcome delay for me either. The sooner we're all on board the Enterprise and soaring through the stars, the sooner I can test drive my new engines." He grinned.

"I hear that."

"Goodnight, Sir."

"Night Geordi."

* * *

Chapter 13 "Surprises (part II)"

Walking alone along the beautifully tended shoreline of Starfleet headquarters' San Francisco Bay at night was one of the few things Riker ever missed about living a great portion of his lifetime among the stars. There was something in the quiet serenity of a real and temperate moonlight night; something which was incomparable, even to the most elaborately programmed holographic illusion.

This particular night, he'd been happy to note the lack of a crowd. In fact, aside from one or two wandering souls, the occasional couple here and there, he found himself largely alone with the night...and his thoughts. And that was just fine with him.

"Well, well, well. You come here often?"

Will froze in his tracks and then a slow smile touched the corners of his lips. "High marks for originality, Counselor." He quipped back, echoing their earlier conversation.

She smiled at his back and closed the remainder of the short distance between them as he turned. "I think you're about the last person I'd expect to see out here on a night like this." Folding her arms across her chest, she regarded him sagely.

"And why is that?"

"Well, for starters, word has it you rarely spend any time away from Casey's Lounge when you're planetside."

"You've been checking up on me?" At his lopsided smile, she rolled her eyes.

"Not precisely." Troi shrugged noncommittally. When she offered nothing further, he simply nodded.

"I see."

She glanced up at him in surprise. "What? No witty come back? No hasty one liner?"

"Look..." Riker cleared his throat. "Deanna... is it still okay if I call you Deanna?"

This time she frowned in confusion. "Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, I just..."

Sensing the shift in his mood from amusement to what could only be described as moderate distress, Deanna took a step forward and placed her hand on his arm.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

He let out a quick breath which was almost a smile. "About the other night..."

"Oh." Glancing downward for a fraction of a second, she sighed.

"Right." He affirmed.

"Do either one of us know why this is so awkward?" She suddenly smiled up at him, tossing him a helpless look.

"I was sort of hoping you might... you are the Counselor, after all."

"Sorry, no luck there, I'm afraid." There was silence for a time.

"All right, this is sort of nuts, I know but ..." Riker swallowed uncomfortably. "...would you mind if we talked about it? I realize this will likely go down in history as the first time I ever *volunteered* to talk to a Counselor about a personal issue..."

"I promise not to tell if you won't." Deanna tossed him a crooked smile and when he didn't return her gesture she sobered. "Of course. It's a good idea. We *should* talk about it. Here... why don't we sit down." Smiling reassuringly at him, she gestured towards a park bench next to the whispering water's edge, and the two officers made their way towards it in silence.

"So I guess.. you remember… that stone?"

"How can I forget."

"I think," Riker began, as he lowered himself into a seated position. "...there's something very strange going on with it."

That won him a laugh. "We're in agreement on that point. The question is... what is it?"

"You did see it too, right?" He looked up at her and she could see the uncertainty etched into his features. "When we held it in our hands, there was a moment when I thought I saw..."

"Your childhood..." She finished for him. He nodded wordlessly.

"Then it was real?" He didn't need to ask the question. Both of them already knew the answer, and yet asking it --- validating it somehow made it seem less of a strange dream and more of a tangible reality, something they might be able to discuss. Perhaps even analyze...

"Will, what happened with that stone was unlike anything I've ever experienced. I'm not even sure how to describe it accurately, but I think we can both agree that it was real."

"When I was a kid." Riker began after a pause, his voice barley a whisper. "I swore that no one would ever know about that day."

Troi folded her hands in her lap. And then she met his eyes. "Sometimes, we build up walls around the most vulnerable parts of ourselves in order to keep our painful memories from finding a way back inside.

"Well-- " Riker began sarcastically. "Whatever was in that rock, sure as hell didn't ask my permission."

"Nor mine." She answered, starring out into the water beyond.

"I'm sorry." Will shook his head. "I know this isn't just about me. This didn't just happen to me. It's just that when you get right down to it, I've always managed to stay in control of my life. You know? Where it was headed, who I let inside. And now all of a sudden I feel like everything's *out* of control. And there's no one to yell at, even if I wanted to because it's all due to a hunk of useless rock."

"Well..." Troi sat forward and appeared thoughtful. "Barring the unusual circumstances involved, I can tell you that it's otherwise very normal to become upset when our privacy is violated." She whispered.

"I'm not upset." He shook his head.

"No, you're frightened."

"Your empathy tell you that?" He couldn't keep the avarice out of his tone.

"Your posture did, as a matter of fact, but the technicality is moot. I feel the same way."

That got his attention. He held her gaze. "I barely know you."

She nodded. "So maybe we'll just have to take a leap of faith and trust one another. For now."

"I don't trust anybody."

"Well I trust you." She offered, refusing to look away.

"Why?" He shook his head in disbelief. "We've only known one another for a few days and besides annoying the hell out of each other, all we've managed to do is argue, and I almost got you killed. I wouldn't trust me, if I were you."

"Then it's a good thing you're *not* me." She said simply.

"It's your life." He shrugged, putting on as non committal a face as possible. Not allowing her to see whether or not her words had affected him.

"I heard what you said to the council. It was very considerate of you..." She went on.

"Is that what this is all about?" He suddenly stiffened. "You may want to rethink your 'trust', Counselor, because all I did was lay your case on the table right next to mine. Fair is fair and I'm not the kind of person who takes advantage of a situation like that. That's all. I didn't argue for you, didn't even plead your side of things. It just so happened that Starfleet Command -- in all it's wisdom -- saw fit to adopt your idea. No thanks to me, I assure you."

"Your point is duly noted." Deanna nodded solemnly, but then she smiled. And when he refused to look at her, she sighed in exasperation. "Will, you might as well stop pouting about it. It doesn't solve anything."

He tossed her an incredulous glance.

"You *are* pouting you know, and to think I was just starting to admire you, too."

For nearly five seconds he simply stared at her in silence, and then he shook his head. "Okay - all right. You win... I'll trust you --- if you'll trust me. For now."

She smiled. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"Speak for yourself."

Ignoring his quip, the Counselor stood. "Now, were you on your way *to* Casey's or *from* Casey's?"

"Why?"

"Because..." She began, patiently. "I'm starved. I need some chocolate and it's almost tomorrow."

"Which would make it today all over again."

She wrinkled her nose. "Don't make me think on an empty stomach, Will. Are you coming or not?"

With barely a moment for thought he suddenly grinned and stood. "Sure."

They walked in companionable silence for some distance before Troi suddenly asked:

"Do you still have the stone?"

"Right here." He patted the side of his leg.

"Has it grown warm again? I mean, since the last time?" She pressed.

"No. Nothing." Reaching into his pocket, Riker wrapped his fingers around the small obsidian rock. "Ow!" He drew back suddenly. "Nix that..." He rubbed one hand with the other and tossed a wary glance at his pocket. "It's doing it again, right now."

With a concerned expression, she came forward. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm fine, it's not actually that hot - I think it just took me by surprise, that's all." He reached back into his pocket and gingerly withdrew the tiny offending object. "Actually, really warm…" He whispered absently, tumbling it within his fingers.

"I wonder why..." Deanna's voice was equally contemplative. "May I see it?"

"Are you sure? What if the same thing happens again?" His eyes regarded her sagely.

"Then it does." She met his gaze directly. "Perhaps it will lend us another clue…"

"Or maybe we'll both regret it." He muttered.

"Perhaps." She conceded. "But I don't think so. I accept what happened in that hospital room, Will. I don't regret it. What I do regret, is that neither one of us understands the reason why."

There was a moment; an instant passed between them when Will Riker was certain he *did* understand the reason why. But then it was gone. As quickly as it had formed transparent in his mind, the solution became opaque once more.

With a thoughtful glance downward, he extended his hand - and the stone - towards her. She placed her fingers over his and the stone.

It flashed: A bright light which filled their palms and then grew dim as though accustoming itself to something.

But nothing happened. Riker raised his eyes to hers.

"Now what?" He whispered.

Deanna could only shrug. "I'm not sure. It lit up for a second. Perhaps it responds to living contact?" Their hands remained unmoving.

"Come to think of it…" Will began, suddenly narrowing his gaze. "The only time I've ever felt it get warm this way, was around you, Counselor. Maybe it responds to *you*?" He smiled at her then, only half in jest.

Deanna's eyes grew wider.

"Here." He finally sighed. "Why don't you take it for a while. Heck, why don't you keep it. The woman who gave it to me didn't say anything about my not being able to give it away, and I think under the circumstances, it might be a fair experiment. It seems to like you. What do you think?"

The Counselor inclined her head. "I suppose so." She accepted the stone when he dropped it into her palm. It was still warm, but decidedly dimmer when their hands drew apart.

Taking it, she placed it carefully inside a small slit pocket of her dress. A moment of awkward silence settled between them and it was then that Riker noticed they were standing on one of the low railed bridges within the park.

The bridge crossed over and joined with the myriad of pathways extending back into the Starfleet complex nearly a kilometer away. There was a duck pond beneath them, one he was quite familiar with from his many visits planet side. Though at this hour, it was devoid of the birds who normally paddled in it's shallow waters.

"You know, you still haven't answered my question. Were you on your way to or from Casey's?" Deanna's softly spoken query startled him from his thoughts. She was standing very close right now. So close that if he'd wanted to, he might have been able to reach out and--

Riker sucked in a short breath attempting to quiet his apparently tumbling emotions before she might have a chance to pick up on them. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he tipped his head in a devil-may-care gesture. "From, actually."

"But you're going back... on my account?" She refused to look away.

"Well, the way I see it, I've just made a new friend tonight. And friends never let friends dine alone... even on chocolate."

"How very gallant of you, Mr. Riker..." She shook her head and smiled.

"Thank you, Ms. Troi. You know, I thought I saw you walking into Casey's yourself, earlier on -- Or did they run out of chocolate?" He tossed back at her and she blushed.

"It's been a rough evening. And I always crave chocolate when I'm moody. That's something you'll have to get used to about me... if we're to be friends."

The warmth of the smile he afforded her in that instant nearly made her knees weak. "I think I can handle that." Without missing a beat, he added playfully:

"So what exactly did you 'start' to admire about me?"

When she didn't respond immediately to his teasing comment, Riker was forced to study her features for a time. Her eyes, the curve of her face. She seemed to be looking at him in a way that suggested--

Swallowing, he took a step forward, towards her. She didn't retreat. In fact, what he saw in her gaze right that instant was something so real and so compelling that he found himself moving even closer, his head bent downward, his lips - touching upon hers, very gently.

Her eyes fell shut and he felt her body respond; shifting forward in a moment of pure magic.

It all happened so quickly that he was never to be sure when exactly it was that he discovered himself an arm's length away from her, his footing no longer solid on the bridge.

Yelping in surprise, Will Riker felt the low railing upset his balance as he tumbled backwards, directly into the tepid water of the pond. He landed, with a splash, on his backside and caught himself with his hands behind him.

"What the hell?" With an indignant cry from below her, he stared up at Deanna, uncomprehendingly at first.

For a time, Troi regarded him wide eyed, and her hands moved to her lips as though she couldn't believe what she had done. And yet she had… pushed him away from their - encounter -- directly into the shallow pool below. Though it seemed clear in her expression that she hadn't meant to dunk him in the process.

When the initial shock of the moment had worn off, the Counselor began to look as though she might laugh. She bit down on her lip instead.

"I'm sorry…" She cleared her throat.

"You're sorry? What was that?" He gathered himself to his feet, still dripping, his boots making a squishing sound as he climbed back up on the bank.

Suddenly indignant, she bristled. "Will Riker, you were the one who advanced on *me*, I did not invite you to *kiss* me!"

"I... what? You didn't exactly object!" He growled.

"Next time ask permission!" She threw back.

"Next time?" He caught the immediate flush of her face when she realized what she'd said. "You did just say 'next time' didn't you?" At this, he tipped his head, tossing her a fairly triumphant smile.

Troi was about to remind him not to press his luck, but it was just in that moment that the night sky over their heads lit up with a thousand points of light, dancing and crackling like fireworks in a indefinable shape over San Francisco Bay.

A two kilometer tear ripped through the heavens in the midst of the chaos, and from it's blinding center, a silver scythe-shaped object emerged, sliding forth as though it were being born from some cosmic womb.

Federation red-alert klaxons sounded from all directions and a barrage of small probes shot upward into the light storm. Both Will and Deanna froze in their tracks, starring upwards in awe, unmoving; that is, until the object began to fire.

* * *

Chapter 14 "All Asunder"

A shimmering protective orb materialized around the alien vessel, now hanging in an artificially lit sky. With calculated efficiency, several beams of energy shot forth from the outer edge of the intruder's hull, striking at what Riker already knew to be the major centers of sensory defense for the planet. There were no explosions, only power failures. Massive, planet-wide dips in power which caused the atmosphere to dim, visibly.

Out of nowhere more of the beams appeared and flashed in the night sky. Some of them from above the alien vessel; apparently emanating from a new and unknown source. These began hammering at the ship over their heads, even as its firing pattern continued to reach out and light up more points on the surface below.

The beams of light which struck at the ship from space grew more and more frequent as though it too were under attack. Several new patterns of fire shot up at the vessel from what appeared to be Starfleet's own sensory defense mechanisms, except that the form and type of fire-power was inconsistent with anything Riker knew to be of Starfleet issue. Within seconds, the shield surrounding the ship over their heads was glowing with iridescent beauty as it absorbed the punishing assault from both above and below.

The Captain's eyes met the Counselor's as the horror of their situation sank in --- they were under attack -- but neither one of them spoke the question they had both formed in their minds. How had this vessel managed to approach the best defended of the Federations planets -- star systems --- without so much as a warning? And if such a ship was capable of literally materializing above the headquarters of Starfleet Command in an instant, what hope could they have of regaining their equilibrium?

Without a word, Riker grabbed Troi's hand and they ran. Heedless of all else, they took off towards the command center of the complex, less than a kilometer away. Whatever was going on, there would be only one chance to find out.

That chance was missed, however. For in that instant ---mid-flight-- yet another beam of light shot forth from above their heads and touched them as they ran. One moment they were there, and the next, there was nothing. Not so much as a whisper of their passing in the wind.

And then the light beams vanished. All at once, power surged back to life from every corner of the planet while the object in the sky flickered momentarily, and promptly vanished. Vanished from every sensor grid; vanished from every energy screen; vanished from the eyes of every flabbergasted Federation citizen on Earth.

* * *

"Mon Dieu. What the hell was that!?" Admiral Picard raced down the corridor towards Starfleet's central command level.

In what couldn't have been more than two minutes, the entire planetary defense system had come to full alert, lost all power and almost instantly (and noisily) fired back to life once more. On a regular day, any *one* of those instances would be cause enough for alarm. But for all three to occur, within a matter of seconds?

Hastily authorizing himself via vocal command to the primary 'bridge' of the earth-bound control center, he found himself in a room full of equally dumbfounded Starfleet officers, and in the company of two other Admirals such as himself.

Everyone appeared as though they'd just seen a ghost, and judging by their equally stricken expressions -- they were lucky it hadn't been much more than that.

"Admiral Picard..."

"Admiral Wilson." Picard inclined his head. "Do we have a fix on our defense lapse as yet?"

"Not yet. Whatever it was has certainly shaken up the Council, however. Most of us were pulled from our beds, half in a daze. It now looks as though whatever it was -- is gone."

"Gone?" Picard thinned his lips.

"Disappeared from every sensor array we've got. Without a trace. Believe me, we're all just as stunned by it as you are. But there's little we can do at this point if there's nothing there and no trace of where it might have gone." The older man frowned.

Without comment, Admiral Picard found himself staring out of the enormous windowed-structure which served as a primary operations center for Starfleet headquarters in San Francisco.

The now-peaceful tranquility of the pre-dawn Bay beneath them belied all indications of any sort of trauma, yet like everyone else present in the room so early this morning, Picard stood wondering about the future of the Federation.

Was this new race of beings truly hostile? And if so, what hope or prayer did they stand of putting up a fight, should one become necessary, in the face of such power?

As though in answer, the click and hum of the Federation's most powerful computerized equipment, only instants away --- did little to offer comfort.

* * *

"You did what?" The woman snapped, turning where she stood.

"We brought them up. And neutralized the others." A short Romulan woman replied, standing stoically off to one side.

"I thought I gave orders that no one was to contact them..." The woman, a taller, dark-haired humanoid with intense blue eyes, frowned deeply; an expression which, though it worried the otherwise porcelain visage of her youthful face, could never have been described as anything less than strikingly beautiful.

"There was no choice. We underestimated the arrival of the others. There would have been an incursion possibly even a loss." The Romulan woman's voice was pointed and unapologetic. As ever.

"She's right." Another woman, from the opposite corner of the room, spoke up. "She had no choice."

With a deep sigh of resignation, the younger woman ran both hands through her short, utilitarian hairstyle, gathered her composure and brought herself up to her full height. A full 155 centimeters (5'7 inches by an older standard of measurement).

Having regained her equilibrium from the shock of the moment, she nodded slowly, steeling herself for what was to come. From a very young age she had been taught to be master of her body, mind and spirit. Never to allow herself a lapse in discipline which might leave her vulnerable to attack.

"What has been, will be." She quoted, casting her eyes over the crew on her bridge. Nearly thirty in all, every one of them going about their responsibilities both capably and efficiently. The pace of their plan had just been dramatically increased, but there was little to be done about it now.

Though she might have wished for guidance in this particular moment in time, she knew that there was no one here to offer it; that as she had come to accept, she would be looked to for their next course of action.

"What of the others?" She asked, her voice now calm and controlling.

"In stasis. Their attempt backfired. They will need some time to repair their systems, or to send reinforcements."

"How much time?"

"Perhaps a few hours. Three, maybe four." The Romulan responded.

"And Starfleet?" The young woman folded her hands across her chest.

"They are aware, at least, of something. But not specifically of us or of the others."

"Lets keep it that way. I want no further compromises! We are here for a purpose and should we compromise ourselves any farther, that objective might as well be moot. Understood?" The was no mistaking the authority in her voice, nor the emotion as she glanced at her two companions. The Romulan woman nodded respectfully, and then took her leave.

When she had gone, the young woman turned towards her other confidant. She spoke so softly that anyone else might not have heard her. The bridge was now bustling with activity, and the two women stood closer together than they had moments before.

"This is your ship. And my mission. And yet I feel as though it should be anyone but me in here right now."

With a slow sigh, the older woman nodded. "Though it may seem as though it is your mission, the truth is that it's ours. Just as you belong to all of us, Seyerra."

"Seyerra." The younger woman smiled ruefully. "I never asked for that title. I never intended for any of this to happen."

"One never does."

"But what if they're wrong? What if you're all wrong, G'eyna?"

"We cannot *all* be wrong." The older woman -- G'eyna -- shrugged.

"Why not? We're aren't infallible beings. None of us are."

"Because," G'eyna smiled patiently. "If we all believe the same fallacy to be true, then there is no one left to point out our mistake. Therefore, we cannot be 'wrong'."

Perplexed, Seyerra shook her head, smiling suddenly. "I'm almost afraid to follow that line of logic!"

Both of them were silent for a time.

"All right." Seyerra began, letting out a long, slow breath of air. "Looks like I'll have to speak with them."

"And so you will. And everything will be fine, you'll see."

At her encouragement, the younger woman smiled and completed the phrase she knew was coming next.

"What has been, will be."

G'eyna nodded back. "Go with fortune."

The young Seyerra sighed.

* * *

Chapter 15 "Inertia Creeps"

"Where are we?" Counselor Deanna Troi's voice echoed almost hollowly inside of what appeared to be a faceless, edgeless glowing white enclosure. A hallway with neither a beginning nor an end.

"Something's telling me we're not in Kansas anymore..." Captain Riker extended his arm towards a wall and found that he could neither touch it, nor see beyond it.

"I beg your pardon?"

He smiled. "It's an old Earth idiom. It means--"

"To have been lifted from familiar surroundings and caught unaware." A new voice interjected.

Both the Counselor and the Captain turned where they stood. From out of what seemed to be 'nowhere', the front of a woman's body appeared. A very shapely, very beautiful woman's body.

"This is what you might call a 'holodeck', of sorts." Taking several steps towards them, the young woman brought herself fully into view and Riker's jaw fell open. He'd thought, when he met Counselor Troi, that he had seen the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Now he wasn't sure how to judge in this particular competition, but the woman who now stood before them, might very well steal that particular title.

Her dark, lustrous hair, though short (cropped just at the line of her jaw) was board straight, and smooth, as though it were spun from some form of Terellian silk. And her eyes... they were the darkest blue he had ever seen on a human. If she was indeed human. She looked to be.

He swallowed visibly and cleared his throat. As he did so, the Counselor, perhaps having sensed his shift in emotion, tossed him what might have passed for a disgusted glance.

Taking in his slightly damp, disheveled appearance, the other woman, merely raised one eyebrow and smiled.

"I realize I have you at a disadvantage, Captain..."

Riker's eyes widened when she spoke the exact phrase he'd been meaning to only instants before it left his lips.

"Are you telepathic?" He couldn't help the question, but she shook her head.

"Not at all. I just assumed that might be your first line of questioning and that assumption turned out to be correct. If you'll allow me to explain, I'll try and clarify as much as I can."

For her part, Troi's eyes had narrowed, and she regarded their new host appraisingly. "I'm Counselor Troi and this is Captain Riker." She spoke up, suddenly. "But you seem to already know that. Even so you seem nervous." She revealed, without revealing exactly how she knew that to be true. And there was more. Something about this woman was ... strange somehow ...

The woman glanced up at her in surprise; an expression which dissipated almost as quickly as it had appeared. For a moment, it appeared as though she might say something, but instead she inclined her head in an almost knowing fashion.

"Your empathic assessment is as correct as always, Counselor." She smiled.

"I'm sorry, as always?" Riker queried.

"Yes Captain." Having come to a decision, she raised her gaze to meet his. "I'd like to welcome both you and the Counselor aboard our flagship. The Federation starship: Enterprise."

* * *

Chapter 16 "Eternal Instants"

"The what?" Riker nearly choked.

"I understand your confusion Captain."

"You're telling me that you-- this ship-- this is a Starfleet vessel?" Both Riker and Troi exchanged equally astounded expressions.

"It is. But not the ship you might believe it to be."

"Hold on a moment. Whose project is this?" This time it was Troi who interrupted. "Do you have a name? A rank perhaps?"

The woman inclined her head. "Among the citizens of the Federation, I'm called Seyerra."

"What does that mean? 'The citizens of the Federation' call you Seyerra?" Will repeated, shaking his head.

Deanna spoke up. "It's a Betazoid word. Seyerra." She turned to Riker. "Literally I don't think there is a 'standard' definition. It means 'chosen' or 'elected'. Within a political context. More correctly, it might refer to a combination of both words for which there is no direct translation per se."

"Like a president?" Will asked, bringing to the fore the only term for which he had a current frame of reference.

Troi nodded.

"But how is that possible?" He growled. "Last time I checked, the Federation already had a council and a president."

"They do." Seyerra folded her hands across her chest and paused, seemingly thoughtful. "I think it's time that we returned you home, Captain. Please accept my sincerest apologies for what has occurred."

"I beg your pardon?" Will thrust himself forward. "I can only guess that this was the vessel we watched appear out of nowhere back on Earth. For whatever reason, you then kidnap myself and the Counselor, bring us to this crazy white laboratory of yours, tell us we're on board the... the.. **Enterprise** and then proceed to just -- send us home. All in the span of fifteen minutes. Just what the hell is going on here?!" He demanded.

Troi could sense his rage, his indignation. She shared some of it, truth be told. But now was not the time to engage in hostilities. Not when they needed some answers. Placing her hand on his arm, she turned towards their host.

"What the Captain is saying..."

"I know what I'm saying!" He snapped at her, but then sobered at her warning look.

"What we mean," She repeated. "Is that this whole story seems a little... unreal." Meeting Seyerra's gaze with her own, Troi challenged the young woman.

"I will admit that mistakes have been made. One which we are now attempting to rectify." She met Troi's eyes unflinchingly, and for the briefest of moments, Riker thought he might have noticed a similarity between their stances, but it was gone almost before it was ever there. Seyerra continued:

"I only wish that I could offer you more reassurance than that; do you sense any duplicity from me, Counselor?" Her expression was serious. Troi shook her head.

"No. And that is the only reason we're still having this conversation. But you have to admit that this -- scenario -- borders on insanity."

"Counselor." The other woman's face suddenly took on an almost pleading expression. "The less you know, the better it is for all of us. Please. I realize you're angry but you must trust me."

"Why? What possible reason have you given us to trust you?" Riker shot back.

"I've given you the name of the ship in which you stand, Captain." She sucked in a cleansing breath of air. "The ship whose predecessor you yourself commanded."

"As in past tense?" He qualified, still disbelieving.

"As in, where I come from ... when I come from ... you have been dead for many years, Captain. But your legacy lives on. And the reason that the **Enterprise** is here right now has everything to do with that legacy."

She frowned suddenly. "Now that I've told you even this much, I'm going to have to have you both cleansed before you leave the ship. I'm sorry. But I promise you, you'll never even miss the knowledge."

"Wait a second. If this ship really is from the future of the Federation, then who the hell are you?" His challenge did not fall on deaf ears.

Seyerra dipped her head for several seconds before she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. She tapped her arm simultaneously, and an even brighter white light began to spill forward into the room, engulfing their helpless senses.

"That is a story, for another lifetime." She answered, and then activated her communicator. "We're ready." She watched as the two dematerialized.

* * *

Chapter 17 "One Night Stand"

When Deanna Troi awoke, she had one hell of a headache. Gathering her scattered senses, the Counselor raised a hand to her forehead while using the other to prop herself up in bed. In bed...

That was odd. She hadn't remembered getting ready for bed. Blinking, half dazed, she glanced down at herself and promptly sucked in a breath of surprise.

There was someone laying next to her. Someone decidedly tall... and decidedly male. His arm was draped over the side of the mattress and his head was obscured from view, but the rest of his body was far more conspicuous... she felt herself shiver.

It was then that he moved. Groaned actually, rolling over just in time for her to take in full view of his features. That was when she heard her own voice call out: "Oh gods!"

Thrusting herself away from the bed, she clamored back towards her dressing unit and clutched behind her at its surface for purchase.

"What the hell...?" His voice, heavy with slumber, was deep and throaty. "This isn't my room..."

"No, it's mine."

That got his attention. Captain Riker's eyes suddenly shifted -- along with this head -- in the direction of her voice.

"What? Where did you...? When did we...?" He nearly stammered, climbing to his feet and standing opposite her on the other side of the bed.

For a time, the two officers merely regarded one another in disbelief, then Riker grinned, all of a sudden. "That must have been one hell of a chocolate sundae..."

"Oh, please!" She hissed at him. "Would you like to tell me just exactly what you're doing in my bedroom?"

"Me?!" He tapped his chest indignantly. "I was about to ask you the same question, believe me!"

"This is **my** room!" She threw at him.

"I know!" He yelled back.

And then, just as suddenly as he'd uttered the words, Will Riker tipped his head back and laughed. Laughed so hard it shook his entire body.

"Oh do share..." Troi placed her arms akimbo on her hips. "What precisely do you find so funny, Captain?"

"You..." He managed, though there were nearly tears of mirth in his eyes at this point. "Me. Us. I can't believe neither one of us knows how we got here. I mean..." He shook his head, still grinning. "I've been drunk before, but never **that* far gone!"

This time, he saw her eyes flash and her mouth opened into an expression of utter disbelief. "I was **not** ... " She dropped her head. "I wouldn't have. I would **never** have allowed myself to... " Looking back up at him, she pinned him with a venomous stare.

"Hey, don't look at me!" He backed off slightly. "I didn't do anything. At least, I don't think I did..." Deanna's scowl deepened.

Suddenly taking stock of their situation, Riker gestured offhandedly at himself and then at her. "If it makes you feel any better, it doesn't look like anything... happened ... anyway. We're both fully clothed."

That stopped her. With an irritated huff, she glanced down at her attire and noticed that he was indeed correct. She was still dressed in the outfit she'd had on yesterday, just after her duty shift. Though relieved beyond words, she frowned.

"Look..." Riker's voice had sobered and this time, when he caught her gaze, he did so on the level. "Maybe... we just got tired or something. Maybe..."

"Oh gods, what time is it? Computer, time!" She interrupted without warning and hurried to her window, glancing outside at a bright autumn morning.

={The time is 1026 hours}=

With a harried expression cast towards the other room, Troi groaned loudly. "Ohh ... I had three appointments scheduled this morning. I'll never catch up..."

"Deanna--" Will took a step forward.

"Go... just ... go." She gestured impatiently towards him. "We'll discuss this later."

After escorting him unceremoniously to her doorway and opening it, she pushed one very confused Starfleet Captain gently through it, and readied the instruct for 'close'. But Riker turned towards her before she'd had the opportunity to issue it, and the expression on his face clearly indicated that there was more to be said.

"I promise!" She added in a hurry and then he found himself standing face to face with a yellow doorway in a hallway outside the apartment of the head of Starfleet Psychology.

"Okay." He said to no one in particular. "All right." Turning on his heel, Captain William T. Riker put on his best 'official' face and marched stoically out of the building.

* * *

Chapter 18 "Deja vu"

"You're late." Admiral Picard's voice was almost stern enough to make his junior cringe. Riker frowned instead.

"I apologize, sir. I--" He began, but then thought better of it. "I really have no valid explanation or excuse."

Well, that was the truth of the matter, at least. He really didn't have any idea what had happened, and he likely wouldn't have one either, until he'd had a chance to speak with Troi. But she'd been in such a hurry to get away from him this morning, he had no idea when or where he'd be 'granted' the opportunity to speak with her again. His frown deepened, and Picard noticed it.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Captain?" The older officer regarded him appraisingly.

"No, sir."

"I see."

Though he stood relatively at attention, Riker glanced at the Admiral out of the corner of his eye, and then he swallowed.

"Where were you this morning, between say ... 2400 and 0300 hours?"

Riker's heart leapt into his chest at the question. "Where was I, sir?"

"You heard me, Captain."

"I was..." Riker cleared his throat. "Well, sir, I was..."

"Yes?"

"I'm not sure, sir." Will knew that this had been the wrong answer the instant the words had left his lips.

"Not sure?" Picard echoed, incredulously.

"No sir."

"What do you mean, 'not sure'? How can a person not be sure of where he was only a few hours ago? It's a simple question, Captain. Why are you avoiding it?"

"I'm not avoiding it, sir. I'm really ... not sure where I was, sir."

Picard leaned back in his chair, at this. He folded his hands in front of him on his desk, and then proceeded to say nothing for nearly a minute while Riker thought he would surely go insane in the ensuing eternity.

"Captain." The Admiral finally spoke. "You are aware that we have a small matter of security at stake here, and perhaps I didn't make myself clear earlier on. Now, either you'll decide to tell me exactly what's going on, whether you fully understand it or not-- " He paused. "Or I'll take it upon myself to launch a further inquiry into your 'situational whereabouts' last evening."

Riker sighed. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Always."

Relaxing his stance, Will Riker tugged on his shirt self consciously. "I woke up this morning, with a woman."

For a moment, Picard said nothing. Then he smiled. Captain Riker's reputation with the opposite sex was well documented. "So you were with her, last night?"

"Not exactly." Riker frowned. "That is to say, sir... I have no idea how I came to be in her bedroom at all. Last night, or this morning." He glanced up to meet the eyes of his superior officer and was more than a little surprised to note that Picard himself did **not** seem to take this news as odd.

"What exactly *do* you remember, Captain?" Picard asked, unfolding his hands and leaning forward.

"That's just it, sir. I don't remember much of anything. I remember I was with her last night, around 2300 hours. We were talking, about a kilometer south of Casey's Lounge by the duck pond. We decided to go back, she said she wanted some chocolate..."

Picard raised an eyebrow but offered no comment. Riker continued, though he'd begun to pace.

"... we were walking through the park and then..."

When the Captain paused for longer than was natural, Picard coaxed. "And then...?"

"And then nothing." Riker chose to omit the mishap at the pond, but tossed a quick glance at his superior before continuing.

"Nothing?"

"Yes sir. Nothing. The next thing I remember, I woke up in her bedroom. We were both wearing the same things we had on yesterday, and when I try and recall what happened in between, all I get is white." He exhaled in frustration.

"White?"

"The color... that's what's inside of my head when I try and remember. I don't understand it any better than you do, sir. And I haven't been able to talk to Deanna..." Riker looked up suddenly, aware of his faux pas.

"Deanna? Counselor Troi was the woman?" Picard stood, and for one insane moment, Riker had a vision of him as an enraged father, ready to clobber him for making a pass at his daughter. Only she wasn't his daughter, Picard merely crossed to the other side of his office, and Riker thought that perhaps he truly *was* going insane and that this was only the first of many such steps yet to come.

After a minute or so had passed, Picard began to speak. "I don't know if you're aware of this or not, Captain. This morning at approximately 2400 hours, Starfleet Command had a planet-wide defense breech of every primary system by a vessel of alien origin which appeared for less than two minutes over San Francisco Bay, engaged in some form of conflict against either ourselves or some unknown force and then vanished into the night sky."

Riker shook his head in disbelief. "But, how? Sir, there's no way any normal vessel could make it past the..."

"Sensor grids?" The Admiral finished for him. "That's true. And yet this one did. We're still reviewing the sensor logs, trying to figure out what happened, but your memory loss seems to coincide almost exactly with the time frame in question."

"You think the two are linked?" Riker inclined his head with interest.

"I can only speculate, but if I had to take a guess..." He trailed off. "Is the Counselor experiencing any of the same symptoms as yourself?"

"Yes sir. Neither one of us knows what happened."

Sucking in a deep breath of air, Picard nodded. "Very well then. I want you both to see Doctor Crusher no later than 1300 this afternoon. I'll brief her on the specifics, but in the meantime, please instruct Counselor Troi not to talk about this with anyone other than you, myself, or the Doctor once she's seen you both. Understood?"

Riker nodded.

"Dismissed. And Captain?"

"Yes sir?"

For long moments, Picard merely regarded him as though there was something he was about to say. But then he simply sighed.

"Nevermind, I'll see you later."

"Yes sir." Riker affirmed, turning on his heel and taking his leave from the Admiral's office. When he was out of sight and the door shut behind him, Picard spun around and punched a series of command codes into his desk for the eighteenth time that morning, muttering to himself.

"Where in hell are you, Guinan!?"

The air near one corner of his office rippled and swirled before a darkly featured El'Aurian stepped forward out of nothing.

"I know." She held one hand aloft, belaying his line of questioning. "Admiral, please, sit down. There's a great deal I have to tell you, and everything we've accomplished until now will depend on what's to come. I need for you to continue to trust me, Jean-Luc."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What the hell happened last night? I've been trying to get a hold of you all morning, where have you been?"

Before she could respond, the space Guinan had only just occupied began to shift once more and out from behind her, another form took shape. This one much younger, much more beautiful -- by human standards.

Guinan turned a surprised (and disapproving) eye at their new 'guest', but the younger woman negated her response with a gesture and a quick:

"There's no time, G'eyna."

"You shouldn't be here."

The younger woman ignored her and turned her attention to Picard.

"Admiral..." She smiled, and it seemed to him that her face could light the surface of an entire world with a look. "I've heard so much about you, it's an honor..."

Extending her hands, she clasped one of his within both of hers.

"Will you let me explain?"

"Seyerra!"

The younger woman looked sternly at the El'Aurian.

"It's time, G'eyna."

With an audible sigh, Guinan frowned, but Seyerra seemed not to notice, or else she ignored the gesture on purpose..

The Admiral shifted his gaze from one woman and then to the other watching the interplay between them. Finally he spoke.

"Seyerra... that's Betazoid, is it not?" His inquiry caused her smile to widen and she nodded.

"It is indeed."

"Then am I to assume...?"

She nodded once more. "That is only my title, Admiral. Much like your own. I hope you realize that you are our last, best hope for this mission to succeed. I'm aware that you have already been told a great deal, taken into our confidence, as it were. G'eyna trusts you implicitly, and I trust her."

She swallowed and drew a breath before continuing.

"Though much has already been revealed to you, what you may not be aware of is that my given name is Rychelle."
When Picard regarded her in confusion, she exhaled slowly.

"And my family name... is Troi."

* * *

Chapter 19 "The Exam"

"Well now this is odd." Doctor Beverly Crusher frowned in disapproval at the readings on her instrument.

Will Riker sat casually on a bio-bed across the room from Starfleet's chief physician and its head of Psychology (who was currently being scrutinized with a variety of medical instrumentation).

"What is?" Deanna shook her head in confusion. Doctor Crusher glanced up at her friend and then smiled reassuringly. "I'm getting some strange readings, that's all. It could be the instrumentation, you know how that goes..."

"Beverly..." Troi's warning tone couldn't be missed and the Doctor sighed.

"I'll let you know more this afternoon as soon as I've had time to analyze the data. I promise." With a quick nod in the direction of Riker, she added: "Okay. That's about all I need right now. Get out of here, both of you. Deanna, you need to take a lunch anyway and I'm sure Captain Riker would be honored to escort you some place nice..."

"But..." The Counselor's plea was lost on deaf ears. Crusher shook her head.

"No buts Deanna. I need to work. You need to eat. I'll see you later on this afternoon." She met her friend's gaze with a look of challenge and Troi finally glanced down at the floor in defeat.

"All right." She mumbled. "All right, I'll go."

"Captain..." Beverly turned her attention to the newly promoted officer. "I want your word that you won't let her run off until she's had a decent meal. She forgets to eat half the time and no one can live on nothing but chocolate sundaes after midnight." She winked.

"Yes ma'am." Riker grinned.

"Why do I feel like a child in detention all of a sudden?" Deanna quipped, petulantly.

"Don't ask me." Crusher smiled and shrugged. "Sometimes you just have to let your friends take care of you and that's all there is to it."

"Shall we?" Riker extended his arm towards the Counselor and after a moment of speculative appraisal, she refused it and marched out of the sick-bay exam room ahead of him.

Riker tossed Crusher a look of helplessness and shook his head. "I don't get it."

Taking pity, Crusher sighed knowingly and crossed the room towards him. She patted his arm.

"I'm afraid the only help I can offer Captain, is to remind you that Counselor Troi is not like many of the other women you've probably met." Her voice was serious, but Riker noted the warmth in her eyes seemed genuine.

"You can say that again." He afforded her a wry smile.

"Deanna thinks and feels very deeply. She holds a tremendous responsibility on her shoulders and she takes life very seriously as a result."

"I got that part." This time he frowned. "And I respect that a great deal. Honestly, I don't think I've ever really respected anyone more. And I'm not trying to be a threat to any of that. At first I just wanted to be her friend, she's the most remarkable -- and frustrating -- person I've ever met." He began to pace, and completely missed it when Beverly Crusher grinned at him.

He continued oblivious, instead: "...but I've never... I mean... I haven't asked her for more than friendship." He colored slightly at the memory of the duck pond, but quickly continued. "Nothing's happened between us that..." He began again, and then trailed off, suddenly aware that he was speaking to the Counselor's best friend. He opted not to finish his sentence.

Beverly nodded anyway. "Maybe..." She winked at him. "... that's entirely the problem."

His eyes widened.

"Now get out of here Captain. I have work to do." With a carefree laugh, the CMO of the entire Federation showed her patient to the door. "And make sure that she eats."

"So, you think that--" Riker asked as he ushered through the opening.

"Go..." Crusher thrust him forward and shut the door right after.

"Why do women always do that?" He muttered, now staring at the metal-blockade in his face.

* * *

Chapter 20 "Discovery"

"I'm really not very hungry." Troi folded her arms across her chest while they walked across one of the largest parks on the complex.

It was a glorious day. The sky was absolutely blue and only a peppering of fluffy white cloud cover intruded into its otherwise idyllic visage. What was more, he and Troi seemed to have finally found a moment without personal interruption where they might talk.

He hoped.

"Now who's pouting." Riker glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She'd been walking beside him, but then she stopped.

"I am not pouting." She threw back.

"Of course not."

"Can we drop this, please?" At her exasperated tone, he sighed.

"Deanna... " Lowering his voice, he took hold of her arm and turned her to face him. "Doctor Crusher was right, you know. I do think of you as a friend. Whether you believe it or not, I meant what I said last night. I trust you. And you told me that you would trust me, but now I'm not so sure..."

She turned away from his sincere expression.

"Why won't you talk to me about last night? Do you think I know something I'm not telling you?"

She could hear the emotion in his voice when he spoke almost as keenly as she could feel it with her empathy. That was something which had haunted her from the moment they'd met -- how clearly she could sense his emotions even before they'd been introduced. It just wasn't possible --

"I don't know. It's not that..." She finally admitted.

"Well you can tell if I were lying to you, right?" He entreated.

"I think so." She shook her head. "It's just that nothing like this has ever happened to me. I've never lost control that way before. I don't know how I could have--"

Reaching forward, he suddenly pulled her into his arms and wrapped them around her.

"I know." He whispered. "I don't believe it, either. No matter what I said in your room this morning, something must have happened to us last night. I know you would never have been that indiscrete, and I hope *you* know that I would never have taken advantage of you."

Taken off-guard, Deanna's first impulse was to question his motives in gathering her so closely against him, but the feeling lasted only an instant before a river of warmth; of true caring from him washed it away. She didn't pull away. In fact, she might have even moved in closer, if that were possible. The friendship he offered her this day was welcome indeed.

"I suppose I do." She sighed. "I don't know how or why... but I do."

For a few moments, she simply took solace and comfort from the feeling of his presence all around her, but then she did pull away somewhat awkwardly.

"So maybe..." He offered, "...we should go and get that lunch, I don't want Doctor Crusher to hunt me down, after all. Then perhaps we can talk about something happy for a change?"

"Okay." She nodded and the smile which went with her simple answer made him warm all over.

"Like how beautiful you look this afternoon."

"Uh oh, here we go." She laughed and leaned against his arm in a friendly way.

"I mean it!" He placed his arm over her shoulder.

"I know you do!" She tossed back, with exactly the same inflection he'd just used.

"Ah yes, I keep forgetting I'm talking to an empath..." His grin was infectious. They walked along in companionable silence for a time, her arm linked with his. And then, finally, she broke their respite:

"Did you really tell the Council that you felt a counselor on board a starship would be redundant waste of personnel?"

Her abrupt change in subject almost made him jump.

"What?" He dropped his arm from hers to regard her fully. "Where did that come from?"

"I've just been thinking about it, for a while, that's all. I know what their decision was, but I can't help but remember our last conversation and it leaves me feeling confused." She sighed.

"About what? I thought we both made ourselves pretty clear." He frowned. "well, up until you decided to go get yourself hit by a transport to punctuate your side of things."

She afforded him a wry smile. "Unplanned emphasis. I just wish we didn't have to disagree so often."

"Then don't." He shrugged.

"Don't what?"

"Don't disagree with me."

When her expression transformed from thoughtful to indignant, Riker knew he'd touched the wrong button. But it was already too late.

"How can you say that? How can you disregard my point of view so cavalierly on the one hand, and on the other tell me that you value my opinion as a friend?"

"Look, Deanna, that's not what I said--" Riker shook his head, aware that he'd somehow just stepped into something way over his head. "I just feel that I happen to have a lot more experience out there and--"

"And you feel that, seeing as how I'm 'down here', I couldn't possibly know what it's like 'up there'."

"That's about right." He met her challenging gaze head on.

"So what if I changed that." She placed her hands on her hips.

"How?"

"Well, I've been thinking this over. What if I came on board the Enterprise. What if it was me up there. Would *you* give me the opportunity to prove my case?"

"But you can't just…leave. You're the head of Starfleet Psychology. They need you here, they'd never allow that Your point is moot."

"There you go again, dismissing me out of hand. I don't even know why I ever considered that we might be friends..." She scowled.

"What a second!" He threw back. "I am *not* the bad guy here. Just what do you think you're going to accomplish by pushing this?"

"What am *I* going to accomplish? I beg your pardon Captain, but there's a lot more to this than my own personal feelings on the matter. I happen to take this particular issue very seriously, even if you don't. And I want you to know that intend to fight for what I believe in just as I expect you to fight for what you believe in."

"Then I guess we'll be fighting on opposite sides of this fence, Counselor."

"Is that supposed to make me reconsider?" She snapped.

"Maybe." He frowned.

"Don't waste your breath."

They stood facing one another, like twin alley cats in a stand-off for the same bit of fence. Only in the manner of humans, neither one seemed willing to speak. A moment later, Troi turned away from him and took a deep breath, centering her senses.

When she turned back around, she did look decidedly calmer, he had to give her that. Unfortunately, he wasn't so sure she'd be able to remain that calm, under the circumstances.

Riker cleared his throat audibly and gestured offhandedly towards her, grinning as he did so.

"What?" She snapped impatiently. "Don't think you're going to change the subject just because you're uncomfortable with it, Captain..."

"It's not that." He cleared his throat and tried to stifle his smile. It was an honest effort, but an abysmal failure.

"Then what is it? You're looking at me like I just grew a second head or something."

"Well you did." He paused. "Sort of."

"I -- what?" Her attention shifted suddenly.

"There's a June bug... on your shoulder ... A really big one, actually."

"Cute." She rolled her eyes. "Very cute. In case you hadn't noticed, it's October."

"That's true." He conceded. "But it doesn't change the fact that..."

Her shrill exclamation drowned out the rest of his sentence. Apparently, she had finally discovered the truth of his statement for herself.

Taking a swipe at it, she managed to encourage the fat yellow beetle to fly off, but after only a few seconds, he returned to his perch, once again..

"I think he likes you. He and I have something in common." This time however, Riker's blatant attempt at flirtation was lost on her.

Frozen in what he could only assume to be extreme discomfort, Troi fisted her hands at her sides, shut her eyes and whispered. "Get it off of me. Please..."

"Okay..." He grinned. "But you're going to owe me big time for this one, Counselor. I may even require you to concede the argument--"

Her eyes flew open and she fixed him with a venomous glare.

"Or not." He added, quickly.

She shut her eyes again and groaned. "Ohh I hate bugs..."

"They're really quite harmless, you know." Riker said as he moved towards her in readiness to remove her 'guest'.

"I know," She nodded, her eyes still shut. "But they're ugly and they're loud and--"

"And no matter how 'stubborn' you can pretend to be about everything else, something inside of you still recoils in terror at the thought of a tiny, harmless little insect." The Captain finished for her, finally having reached her position.

"There's nothing tiny about them.." She murmured.

He extended his hand and brushed at the intruder, but rather than leave its perch, it scurried towards the back of her shoulder instead. She was lucky she had worn her hair half-up today, though tendrils of it still tumbled down across her shoulders in what Riker felt to be a particularly enchanting way.

"Is it gone?" She whispered.

"Hold still." He sighed in frustration as the creature thwarted yet another casual brush-away. "Feisty little critter. Are you sure you two aren't related?"

Troi swatted him in the abdomen, and made a good hit, despite never having opened her eyes to take aim.

"Ow. Hey, do you want my help or not?" He grimaced.

"Just don't push your luck." She mumbled.

"All right, how about if I push yours instead?" Riker tossed back. And before she could respond, she found herself tipped backwards, her body resting over his arm as though they'd been dancing. Her eyes flew open and she regarded him in indignation.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Riker pulled her back into an upright position, though their bodies were now intimately spaced, face to face, in the casual manner of a couple who truly had been dancing.

"Getting rid of our little 'interruption'." He flashed her a dangerous look which, to her eternal embarrassment, made her cheeks flush, and her heart do a somersault inside of her chest.

For a moment, he was sure she would shove him away again; maybe even take another swing at him -- or both. But Deanna surprised him instead. She did none of those things.

"Did you get it?" She asked quietly, instead. Her dark eyes locked with his.

"Let me check..."

They were very close now, and the warmth of his breath on her skin raised the hair on the back of her neck. When he moved his head to examine the space between her shoulder blades, Deanna sucked in a shallow breath as his face moved purposefully across the side of hers.

Without meaning to; without conscious thought at all, Troi's eyes fell shut and she sighed. Will pulled back, only far enough to address her once again, and her eyes opened just in time to watch him drink in the features of her face.

"I think you're safe now." He whispered, and once again she felt an answering pull from somewhere indescribable, deep inside herself.

"Good." Was all she could manage to say. Even that was barely a whisper.

His eyes traced the contours of her jawline, then her lips. He was so close... so very close. And all her traitorous body wanted; all it screamed for in that instant was to feel his lips on hers.

"God, I want to kiss you..." His fervent demand, an answer to her unspoken one, caught the young empath off guard and nearly broke their spell when her mind raced to analyze how that could be...

But instead he moved closer; even closer until she could feel the breath of him against her lips and sense his heartbeat racing forward -- keeping time with her own.

His lips touched upon hers. It was the lightest, most innocent contact -- as though neither one of them had ever engaged in the action before. An irony and a paradox, the insanity of which caused a ripple of tension to release itself across Troi's entire body: She shivered.

Time stopped. Unbidden, her body shifted forward, renewing the contact. Her eyes closed as his mouth continued to trace the edge of hers -- it felt as if they were trapped in the liquid slowness of a wonderful dream. She felt his hands go to her waist, and then travel upwards until he'd cupped the edges of her face, the warmth of his fingertips lightly touching her throat.

Moments turned into seconds as they continued their exploration, never actually kissing; never quite completing the contact until finally, unsatisfied with her inability to touch more of him, Deanna pressed forward, intending to deepen their encounter.

What she wasn't prepared for, however, was for Will to pull back. It was only a centimeter perhaps, no more, but that was all it took. She made a small growling sound of frustration in the back of her throat and opened her eyes.

Never in his wildest imagination could Riker have conceived that simply staring into someone's gaze could be such a powerful experience. And yet in that moment, with her large, dark eyes willing him to answer their unspoken question, he had never felt more captive.

"You still haven't given me permission to kiss you..."

Her gaze flashed and she glanced from his eyes to his lips and then back again. Her breath came quickly.

"Never..." She whispered.

His laughter was rich and low. She could feel it against her chest where their bodies came together.

"We could keep doing this--" He brushed his lips over hers once more and then continued downward, teasing the contour of her neck.

"Yes..." She gasped. Only half in answer to his statement.

={Picard to Captain Riker}=

Their spell shattered abruptly. Troi jumped at the intrusion and then flushed deeply when she saw the heat of Will's gaze had not broken from her.

={Captain Riker, please respond}=

Mentally cursing Starfleet, the inventor of the communicator and whatever tiny demon had cursed him into wearing his this afternoon, Will Riker took a deep breath of air and forced himself to step back from the Counselor.

He tapped the badge on his chest, but continued to hold Deanna's eyes with his.

"Riker here, go ahead, sir."

After only a few moments, she looked away, self consciously.

={Is there a problem, Captain?}= Picard's voice on the other end of the COMM sounded concerned.

"Uh.. No, sir."

={All right. I wanted to inform you that I've heard from Dr. Crusher. She wants to see all three of us in her office at 1500 hours}=

"Good news or bad news, sir?"

={I'm afraid I can't say. We'll all find out soon enough I imagine}=

"Understood, sir."

={Picard out}=

As the COMM went silent, Riker cleared his throat. He knew she'd heard Picard's order, yet he felt awkward and unsure of what to say next.

"I guess that nixes our lunch plans-- we'd better head back."

When she looked up at him, he searched her face for some hint that she might be thinking or feeling any of the same things he was, but her expression was unreadable. He sighed.

"I should go on ahead." She spoke up, and then added hurriedly. "I have -- a few things I need to do in my office, first. I'll catch up with you there."

"Okay." He nodded. "See you there. 1500." Riker had a feeling that if he'd looked in the mirror just then, he might have groaned at just how pathetic he appeared.

Troi turned to go, but then she hesitated, her back to him. For a second it looked as though she'd simply forgotten something. But then without warning, she turned around, marched purposefully towards him, stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. She captured his mouth in a soul shattering kiss.

Reflexively, Will felt his hands encircle her waist and his mouth closed over hers, hungrily. The entire event took only a few seconds and yet it seemed to him as though he'd been waiting for this moment all his life.

Deanna's slight body seemed to melt against him where he stood.. Riker felt he couldn't hold her close enough. The passion of the kiss began to deepen their union beyond coherent thought, and for an insane moment, he thought that he could actually feel the kaleidoscope of her emotions wash against him -- like a gentle tide. Whatever she had done to him, it only made him crave more. More of her; more of this; more of... whatever it was she was making him feel.

When the kiss finally broke, long moments later, Riker found himself experiencing an almost desperate loss. Though both of them were breathless, he watched, half in a daze as Deanna began to smile. Biting down on her lower lip, she glanced up at him coyly from beneath lowered lashes, and then ran her tongue slowly over her lips as though tasting something new for the very first time.

Before he could speak, however, she'd turned once again and began to walk briskly away; headed in the direction of the Starfleet medical sciences building.

For his part, Riker could only watch her retreat and struggle to right what was left of his tumbling senses.

* * *

Chapter 21 "Missing Pieces"

When Captain Riker arrived at "Lab 4" of the medical facility, he found both Admiral Picard and Doctor Crusher already there waiting. The Counselor, however, was nowhere in sight. He cleared his throat, interrupting their previously private conversation.

"Ah, Captain." Picard gestured for him to step inside. "The Counselor has been somewhat delayed, but she assures us she'll arrive in short order."

Riker nodded, trying his best not to allow the conflict to show in his expression.

"Doctor, would you fill the Captain in on your results?"

Crusher smiled warmly, but folded her arms across her chest. "Well, Captain. I have good news and I have not so good news. Which would you like first?"

"You know, I've never liked conversations that began that way." He returned her smile. "How about the good news. And please, if you're going to be my Doctor, call me Will."

Crusher proceeded to pull out a Tricorder, where she entered some data. Then she raised her gaze. "The good news..." She began. "... is that there was no actual damage done to either yourself or to Deanna. You're both the picture of health, so far as I can tell."

"Well that's great." He grinned. "But I could have told you that."

"Mmm." She affirmed wryly. "The not so good news, is that a very small portion of your short term memory has been --- well, for lack of a better word, replaced."

"Replaced with what?" This voice came from the opposite end of the room and was distinctly Deanna Troi's. They all turned.

"That's exactly what I can't figure out. Normally there's a signature left behind. Certainly when we perform a similar procedure, I can tell in an instant, but this... this is different." Crusher pursed her lips as the Counselor walked slowly into the room to join them.

The empath's gaze shifted from the Admiral, whom she acknowledged with a slight nod of her head, to Beverly whom she simply tossed a look of query, to Will, whose eyes she met for only a fraction of a second before looking away.

"Have you been able to locate the encoding specificity of the technique?" Troi nodded at her colleague and it was then that Riker noticed she was dressed for work in what appeared to be a variation of the same type of lab coat Doctor Crusher was wearing.

"No. And that's what's been bothering me. Deanna, take a look at these readings..." Holding out her Tricorder, the older woman passed the instrument over to her.

For a short while, Troi studied the readouts in silence, then she too frowned. "This is amazing. I can't find a single trace of it. Both episodic and semantic recall have been completely obliterated for a three hour period of time right down to the nano-second. It's so clean and so precise, I can't even begin to imagine who might have been capable of doing such a thing with this level of skill." Troi called up a new set of readings and then turned to Crusher. "Look at this..."

The Doctor moved to her side.

"White noise." Riker heard himself speak up, half to himself. Yet his vocalization caught the attention of both women.

"Exactly." Troi nodded. "That's what this is. How did you know?"

"That's all I remember. Don't you? The color white... everywhere. When I try and think about that portion of time, everything is white." He met her gaze and suddenly wished that they weren't in the company of two other people.

Breaking eye contact almost nervously, Riker cleared his throat.

"Well whomever did this was far more advanced than we are, that's for sure. The memory isn't simply gone, it's been overwritten with this -- white noise. The process is irreversible, by our standards." Deanna sighed.

"I agree." Snapping the Tricorder shut, Doctor Crusher glanced at the Admiral. "There's nothing Deanna or I could do either physically or psychologically to bring those memories back. The Counselor even wrote an article about a year ago. A theoretical analysis of short term cognitive memory processes. It was instrumental in the development of our latest technique for memory augmentation. But even with the new technology, there's just nothing to grab hold of. Nothing to 'bring back' so to speak. I'm sorry." She shook her head.

"Well, I suppose we should count ourselves lucky." Troi cut in. "We're only missing three hours. We could have lost a great deal more than that. And the thought of someone arbitrarily being able to enter our minds and 'pick and choose' the moments they replace is more than a little frightening, quite frankly. I'm not certain we're dealing with a truly dangerous species." She tossed a glance at Admiral Picard and he almost seemed to nod, without actually completing the action. "If we were, they would have already had ample opportunity to do far more damage to all of us than has been done. Perhaps Captain Riker and I were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time that night? We have been forced into the same type of action, after all, on certain of our first contact missions. It would be arrogant on our part to assume that we must have the most advanced technology in the field."

"Arrogant indeed." The Admiral replied. "Doctor, Counselor, thank you for your analysis. I'll have to present your findings to the Council of course, but I have a feeling we may end up simply allowing the matter to drop for lack of evidence. We'll need to do far more study before we could, in all honesty, jump to any sort of conclusions." He nodded at all three officers, then. "If you'll excuse me, I do have several appointments this afternoon. Captain, I'll be in touch with you about several new specifics regarding the Enterprise which you'll need to be aware of."

"Yes sir." Riker nodded to his superior and then followed him from the lab as he took his leave, casting only a furtive glance behind him at the Counselor before he'd gone.

Troi then turned to her colleague and pulled her off to one side of the room.

"Oh, Beverly, while we're in the same room at the same time -- a rarity of late due to the insanity of our scheduling system around here --- since I have your ear, please forgive me for changing the subject... but the next time you've got a psych case in 'elective surgery' *please* let me know first! We went crazy this afternoon trying to find Lt. Bradley, and I literally had to pull the laser scalpel out of your poor stricken med-student's hand before she'd release him back into my recognizance."

Beverly dropped her head and shook it, causing tendrils of her orange tresses to spill down over her face. "I'm sorry, Deanna. It's been so crazy around here, I honestly had no idea. I'll speak to Alyssa about the surgical roster myself."

"Thank you." Troi giggled suddenly. "It was really quite funny, actually. You have your students well trained. She was lecturing me on how to safely bring him out of the anesthetic."

Crusher offered her a stricken expression. "Oh God."

"It's all right. No harm done. But perhaps your next lecture might include a few minutes on how the term 'doctor' doesn't only apply to those of us who cut people open on a regular basis." Troi winked.

"You got it." Crusher laughed. "I wish I could have been there to see her face."

"You're evil!"

"No, I'm starved for entertainment, there's a difference." The Doctor sighed.

"Well I have it on good authority that a certain Admiral wouldn't mind helping out with that particular problem..." This time, it was Deanna's turn to be coy.

Beverly gave her an incredulous glance. "Really? Which one?" She grinned.

Deanna laughed. "The only one who makes you come see him ... in his office, every time. As you well know."

"You sound happy." Crusher pinned her friend with an appraising look. "Anything...happen...that I should know about?"

"Happen?"

"Oh, you know, word has it that you've been seeing a lot of 'Will-The-Thrill-Riker' -- care to share?"

Troi's head literally shifted backwards at the comment before she grinned. "Will-The-Thrill? That is *definitely* something I hadn't heard before! But honestly, Beverly, just because I'm happy this afternoon doesn't mean it's because of a man."

"True." Crusher nodded solemnly. "But it is, isn't it?" She pressed, still smiling.

Deanna let out a frustrated sigh and turned around, shaking her head and stalking out of the room at the same time.

When she got to the door she stepped through it and then grabbed hold of it's edge, using it as leverage to tip backwards into the space and address her friend one last time.

"Maybe." She smiled coyly, and then swung casually through the entryway out into the hall beyond.

* * *

Chapter 22 "Explanations"

"Seyerra..." Picard addressed his companion as they walked together through a long and otherwise empty corridor.

"Please." She smiled up at him. "Call me Rychelle. My mother would be horrified if she knew that I'd forced *the* Admiral Picard to address me by my formal title."

"Your mother..." Picard shook his head. "You know, I've met Counselor Troi's mother on more than one occasion. It's difficult enough for me to imagine Deanna's *daughter* without knowing that I'm addressing her granddaughter." The Admiral smiled wryly.

"I'm afraid I'm aware of my great grandmother's fearsome reputation." The young woman nodded. "But most of us since her time have been -- " She paused as though trying to choose her words carefully. "A little easier to get along with."

For his part, Picard merely raised an eyebrow. "I have to say I agree with you, Seyer-- Rychelle. Not that I haven't the utmost respect for Lwaxana Troi, I certainly do. But I have found you to be positively charming from the moment we've met. If we hadn't been introduced under such dire circumstances, I should have been happy to get to know you better."

"Why Admiral..." Rychelle smiled up at him. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Oh no..." He shook his head. "Not an old man like me. I'm just expressing that, as a diplomat, I don't believe the Federation could have chosen a more suited representative."

She sucked in a deep breath. "Thank you. That means a lot to me coming from you. But I don't believe any of us are truly as able or skilled as others sometimes perceive us to be." She added with a modest duck of her head. "And *you* are not an old man. G'eyna loves to remind us all that we only age as quickly as we allow ourselves to."

"Yes, well as wise as Guinan is," Picard thinned his lips. "...she has had several centuries in which to cultivate that theory. I'm afraid we humans don't live nearly that long, no matter how much we might wish to disallow ourselves the annoyance of the aging process." He shrugged.

"Ah..." Rychelle nodded slowly. "I'd forgotten."

Picard tossed her a quizzical glance. "Forgotten what?"

"How old do you think I am, Admiral?"

"I'm not sure, twenty, twenty-five at most."

A genuine smile touched the corners of her lips. "Would you believe I am more than twice that age?"

"No!" He starred at her incredulously.

She tapped the side of her head. "Only as old as we *allow* ourselves to be. Physically, at least."

He shook his head in disbelief. She took his hand in hers and began leading him down the corridor.

"You know, Admiral, the boundaries of the human mind are as limitless as the boundaries of our imaginations. Think of the first human being to have conceptualized the possibility of Starfleet, hundreds of years ago. Or of space travel itself -- even further back. He was likely told that such things are impossible. Yet if he had listened, we would not be standing here today having this conversation."

"True." The Admiral nodded. "It's just that we've already explored so much of ourselves, even in my time, that it's difficult to conceive of the possibility that we might have reached a point where there was **this much** more about our own bodies which we hadn't even begun to examine."

"On Betazed, we call this philosophy: 'Rabeem' which loosely translated means 'I understand'. A state of being which one aspires to for an entire lifetime but never attains. The Romulans call it: "T'mar", the Vulcans: "Savis", the Klingons... " She paused and then laughed. "You know, I don't think there *is* a word for it in Klingonese. But I'm sure if I picked up a Bat'leth, I could carve something into the wall that might mean the same thing..."

Picard laughed. "Without a doubt."

"You know, my best friend when I was growing up was Klingon. She taught me a great deal. They truly have a rich philosophical and literary community, despite my teasing comment."

"Oh, I am aware. I had the privilege of serving with them many years ago on a diplomatic mission, ironically." He nodded.

"Not that I'm belittling a warrior's skill. K'eylenn taught me a great deal about that as well. My only trouble, is that I've never been able to see any day as a particularly *good* day to die." She cringed apologetically.

"Well nonetheless," Picard glanced down at the petite woman with renewed respect --- and a genuine smile. "I'll keep that in mind, the next time I think to challenge you to fighting sport."

"You'd better..." She leaned towards him and playfully whispered: "I've been complimented by the former Klingon Chancellor himself on my 'prowess with a bat'leth'."

"You say former?" Never one to miss a beat, Picard turned towards her and Rychelle ceased walking.

"I did. You see a great deal, Admiral." With an admiring glance, she ceased their progress down the hallway and turned to face him.

"In this time --- in my time -- there was a great war. A war such as your Starfleet has never seen. It was a time of great suffering and fear for all of us. And as it ended, fewer than twenty years ago, there has been no Klingon Chancellor. There are no single leadership governments at all among the citizens of the Federation. Necessity had forced us into a situation of coalition from which it was felt we should not re-divide after the war. Even the Romulan Empire has come to stand in peace with us. We exist at present, during a period of delicate transition. For the moment, there is only the Council of the United Federation Of Planets, and there is ..."

"Seyerra." Picard whispered. "You hold the responsibility of the entire Federation?"

"I am not one person." Rychelle finally whispered.

"What?"

"I have been called many things in my lifetime, but I suppose my favorite would be that I am... a product of a love affair between destiny and science." She smiled ruefully, and when the Admiral didn't respond immediately, she continued:

"When I was born, the war was at its climax. My lineage is a complicated one... There is a Betazoid term of endearment called "Imzadi". A bond, actually, which literally translated, means: 'beloved or dear one'. Or 'the first'."

Picard nodded in understanding. "I've heard the term."

"...Then you know that for centuries it was symbolic of a union of soulmates. A romantic notion shared by a select few lovers and spoken of by poets and storytellers. The people of Betazed had always been aware of the power inherent in such a union, but had never come to look at it as a useful thing, per se. Beyond the obvious physical gratification of a coupling among those who share the bond..." She teased lightly.

"...Betazed is a peaceful culture, as you are aware. There was no interest in assisting, even scientifically, the efforts of a war. But this was a time of change for every world. Our enemy was invisible, vampiric in nature. They came unannounced and would drain the power from every resource detectable on and beneath a planet's surface. They steal not only the lifeforce of a planet, both artificial and natural, but that of it's inhabitants as well." Seyerra glanced up as though to punctuate her point.

"...The process might take anywhere from a few minutes to nearly a standard hour. And then they would be gone, and the world of their conquest -- a frozen death."

"The power drain..." Picard mumbled under his breath.

"We had no choice." She continued. "When Betazed was approached by Romulan scientists among the members of the New Federation, the planet of eternal peace finally agreed to cooperate --- in a war. And a baby was chosen."

She looked up at him.

"You." He finished.

"There is a special type of energy which I posses. Two generations of Imzadi. Until this century I might simply have been another happy, part Betazoid, part Human child. But there was usefulness in my conception which would alter my life forever."

With no small measure of admiration, Picard noted how Rychelle did not speak with regret when she recounted this to him. Merely with purpose.

"I suppose I'm a little like a computer in a way." She afforded him a wry smile. "I've also been called an energy magnet, but the term is quite crude to my way of thinking. More aptly, my body is receptive to the energy of what the human and Betazoid people have always referred to as 'the soul'. I hold in my consciousness the collective essences of over a dozen other individuals. Including yourself, Admiral."

Picard drew in a sharp breath. "Our souls?"

"No..." She negated quickly. "That we would not do. Although such was the original idea suggested to us by the Romulan scientific community. I hold a sort of ... carbon copy. Images, memories, experiences and perhaps some facets of personality, but not more than that. Extracted via a sort of genetic process of manipulation."

"But you retain a personality all your own..." He pressed, out of curiosity.

"I do." She smiled. "At the center of my being, I am Rychelle Lwaxana Troi, as I have always been."

"Lwaxana..." Picard had to smile.

"My parents felt I might need to draw from the strength of my great grandmother, and perhaps I have." She shrugged. "Though I cannot say that I've inherited all of her formidable nature. The others, including yourself -- help to guide me, and to allow me to examine the decisions of the Federation Council with greater perspective."

"Forgive me for saying so, but why not have chosen a Trill?" Picard interjected. "They hold within them the collective knowledge and experience of all of their hosts going back hundreds of years."

"Ah. True." She nodded. "But we were at war, and it was necessary to hand pick those essences which I was to accept. And more than that, I can sense where our enemy lays in wait."

"Then you're telepathic, at least in part? Empathic?"

"Neither, actually. And both. On my own, I'm probably a little empathic, but our enemy feeds on energy. My sensitivity to energy means that I have a keen sense of their presence. I feel the emptiness almost like a vacuum surrounding my chest."

"Mon Dieu. all of this we thrust upon a child." Picard shook his head sadly.

Placing one hand on his arm, Rychelle soothed: "I do not regret who I am, Admiral. Nor what I have become. And I will always be grateful to those with whom I share my life-force. Including yourself, though we had never met before. I feel now as though I understand so much more about your presence than I ever had."

"But have you ever had a life of your own? Did you play as a child?" Picard interjected, still concerned.

"Oh yes!" She smiled. "I was raised on Betazed primarily, and on Earth. I had a wonderful childhood and I was very loved. I adored my parents, and I still do. Perhaps some day you might have the opportunity to meet them as well. The future willing..."

The Admiral sighed. "And what of this enemy now? I take it that the war was won, yet I know from Guinan that we are all still in great danger. Are they here now? Is that why you and she came back?"

Seyerra inclined her head. "The war was never truly 'won.' I was able to stop their progress, and thanks to the El'Aurians, we developed technology similar to theirs whereby we can shift through space/time in order to track the destruction more easily. But our enemy became aware of me, and has set out to ensure that I cease to exist."

"Enter Captain Riker and Counselor Troi. That much I *had* been made aware of." Picard thinned his lips in frustration.

"They cannot know of this. If the "Imzadi" bond does not form on it's own, a union between them would hold no power. It must not be forced, and yet there is so little time." Rychelle wrung her hands absently. A bad habit she had formed in her youth and one she had never been able to fully divest herself of. Deanna Troi had lamented the same idiosyncrasy when Picard had first met her. He had to smile, despite all of it.

The Admiral placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "You just reminded me of your grandmother. I'm certain that the bond will form. It seems to have been meant to be, and if there's one thing Guinan has drummed into my head, it's the futility of bartering with destiny."

"Unfortunately, your future and my past have already been altered, Picard." Rychelle's gaze became very serious. "My grandmother and grandfather were to have met nearly nine years ago on Betazed. We neutralized ten enemy vessels in that time period, but we were too late to stop them from destroying a nearby moon on another Planet. My grandfather's ship was diverted from its mission and he never ended up stationed on Betazed as he was to have been. Had he been there, things may have turned out very differently for us all. As it is, as it was ---" She qualified. "-we had to locate a new point of insertion and our next opportunity was what you now perceive to be your present. We have but one further opportunity. If we cannot stop these ... creatures ... from destroying this time stream, I will never be born. And there will be no hope for the Federation." She trailed off sadly.

Picard looked up at the great ship around him and the comparatively tiny young woman who held the very fabric of their future in her delicate hands. Gazing outside of a nearby portal, the Admiral watched the stars flicker by as though forging pathways through the heavens beyond. And he couldn't help but shiver at the selfish thought which entered his mind: What would those heavens be like ... without a Federation?

* * *

Chapter 23 "Illusions"

"Deanna, wait up!" Riker jogged up behind the Counselor and finally caught her arm. "Running a marathon?"

"No, I'm headed to my office. I've got an enormous amount of work to finish, Captain. We can't -- all of us -- have the luxury of sitting around all day waiting for our next debriefing." She smiled tolerantly at him, glancing down at where he held her arm.

"Ouch." He whispered. "I was sort of hoping we might talk..." He dropped his hand.

"About what?" She tossed over her shoulder, still walking.

"Well..." He began, slightly annoyed at her for making him spell it out. "About what just happened, for one thing."

When she still hadn't responded, he approached her slowly and turned her around. Though she didn't overtly resist the advance, he could tell by her expression that she wasn't likely to be forthcoming on the issue, either.

Undeterred, he reached out to touch her face with his fingertips. "When you kissed me..." He entreated.

That made her look down.

"Will," She began. "I think-- I shouldn't have done that. *We* shouldn't have done that."

He was taken aback. For the first time in his adult life, Will Riker felt as though someone had pole-axed him.

"You think that was a mistake?" He shook his head. "Deanna, that wasn't a mistake. That was--"

"I'm sorry..." She broke in, and then reached up to cup the side of his face in her hand.

"I've done some thinking too. I *do* care for you as a friend. I hope that we can remain friends. But I just don't think it would be right for us to-to cross that line." She shook her head slowly... "You have your career, I have mine, I've had to evaluate you for the position of Captain. It wouldn't be professional--"

"Not to mention we disagree about almost everything..." Riker interjected, and before she could nod, Deanna looked up in surprise. She'd expected him to argue. Even try and convince her otherwise based on his earlier reaction. She'd expected almost anything -- but this.

"Right..." She narrowed her eyes. "So you do understand then..."

"Yeah it's fine. Honestly, I see your point. No need for either of us to have some meaningless fling in the middle of this whole 'Captaincy/Security' issue. It'd just complicate things." He shrugged nonchalantly.

"Meaningless?!" Troi rounded on him, enraged, and he caught her wrist in his hand before she could make good on her physical gesture. Pulling her towards him by that same appendage, he wrapped his arm around her waist just as her body came into contact with his.

"Just checking." He grinned.

"Will Riker, you are the absolute most--!!"

"Irresistible?" He offered, now only a breath away. "Good looking, Sexy? I'm running out of words..."

"Arrogant, there's a word." She huffed.

He kissed her. This time without 'permission', without so much as ever having asked. Riker tipped his head downward and closed his mouth over hers, effectively cutting off any further comment while both of their senses dissolved once again into that abstract, liquid solitude from which there was no escape.

He heard her make a small sound as their contact grew even more intimate, and his only answer was to hold her body closer to him, savoring the sweetness of her -- literally everywhere at once.

This time, when their kiss broke off, Deanna struggled to catch her breath, even as she couldn't stop herself from whispering:

"Gods, how do you *do* that?" Her eyes searched his in genuine curiosity.

"I thought it was you..." He answered breathlessly.

She shook her head. "Who cares..." She kissed him again.

A loud hiss suddenly startled both of them from their moment of intimacy. Before they could analyze its source, however, Troi dropped to her knees, screaming in a voice which died out to a whisper almost before she had begun.

The Counselor clutched at her chest in futility...

Riker spun around, desperately seeking the source of her apparently invisible attacker. "Deanna!"

* * *

Back on the Enterprise, Seyerra shrieked and Admiral Picard reached out to grab her before she fell.

She pinned him with a look of horror and she whispered. "It's my grandmother, she's dying! I can feel the emptiness surrounding her..."

Rychelle's form appeared to fade into a duller shade of 'reality' for a moment and then she managed to reach around and tap a device on her upper arm which seemed to stabilize her trauma, for the moment at least. She straightened where she stood.

"G'eyna, 43 mark 8, *now*!"

No sooner had the words left her lips than both she and the Admiral shimmered and vanished.

* * *

Riker watched in horror as Deanna began to sink even farther to the ground. He'd been tapping at his communicator for several seconds, but nothing was happening. It was as though the comm unit had somehow lost all power and something in his gut was already telling him that they were much too far from the primary complex for him to get her there in time were he to pick her up and carry her.

An instant later, the Captain saw the air next to the Counselor ripple like a heat-wave. Three forms emerged. Two of which he recognized as Admiral Picard and the woman who had given him that blasted 'soul stone'. The other one seemed somehow familiar and yet he couldn't place her.

The two women moved quickly, and with an agility that might have surprised the Captain had he not been terrified for the Counselor's life in that instant.

They raised their hands in unison and inside, Riker caught a glimpse of a small oval object. Taking aim on either side of Deanna, they fired, apparently at the young empath herself. Will lunged forward but Picard had grabbed him from behind and held him in check.

It was then that he saw it. Twin beams of light illuminated a grotesque dark-matter being. The hideous creature had somehow attached to the Counselor's spinal column. Releasing Deanna, it writhed in what appeared to be agony for a few moments and then dropped to the ground, next to Troi where it disintegrated into the earth.

Before he could utter a sound, both women hurried forward and each of them took one of Deanna's arms. They lifted her inert form off the ground, and marched forth ... into thin air.

Riker struggled free and then spun around and grabbed a-hold of his superior officer.

"What the hell just happened, Admiral?!" He demanded, nearly shaking from the combination of events he'd seen take place.

* * *

Chapter 24 "Interlude"

"How is she?" Rychelle paced impatiently outside of the **Enterprise's** sickbay trauma recovery suite.

From within, a smooth, male voice replied. "You managed to get to her just in time, Seyerra. Fortunately, I've been able to repair the damage done to her nervous system."

"Thank the Gods..." She sighed deeply, stepping inside of the large room. "I'd like to see her for a while... alone please."

The Doctor nodded wordlessly and took his leave, motioning to the rest of his surgical team to follow.

For a long time, Rychelle simply stood opposite the bio-bed, watching the blinking array of instrumentation over the Counselor's unmoving form.

When she finally did come forward, she lay her hand against the other woman's forehead and brushed at her hair.

"You know, I met you once. When I was four or five." She whispered.

"...I always thought you were so beautiful. Even then I wished that I'd inherited your eyes." With a wry smile, Rychelle continued to play with an errant strand of Deanna's hair.

"...And your hair, of course. But no such luck." She flipped up her own short tresses in amusement. "Board straight and nothing to write home about."

She was quiet for a time, listening to the hum of the room around her and the steady in and out of the Counselor's breathing pattern.

"My mother adored you. She used to tell me stories..." Glancing up at the light above her head and blinking back the unwanted moisture which had collected in her eyes; she cleared her throat when next she spoke.

"…About when she was just a little girl. And you were so in love with her, you would dress her up in the most beautiful clothes and you'd take these long walks. She told me you'd walk for kilometers sometimes, just the two of you." Seyerra smiled nostalgically. "Of course, you'd have to pick her up when her little legs couldn't take the distance anymore, but you'd still keep going. You showed her so many beautiful things..."

Her voice faltered.

"...And then she showed me. So you see -- I always felt a little like I was there with both of you."

Leaning down, she placed her lips next to the Counselor's ear and whispered almost inaudibly: "Be strong, Grandmother. For all of us."

She stood once more.

"Don't be afraid to open your heart to him. You have so much to give and he truly is a wonderful man. You'll see. I grew up believing you were like ... an angel. I'm not even sure I know how to view you as a mortal, here in this room."

Reaching up, she wiped the teardrops from her eyes with the tip of her finger. Then she smiled.

"I'm going to miss you."

"She has a special way about her, doesn't she?" Guinan's soft voice interrupted Rychelle's and the younger woman turned.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to tell you that you've inherited a great deal more from Deanna Troi than you might realize."

"We almost lost her today. I was frightened. For all of us." Seyerra dropped her head. "It was very close. Too close."

"But we didn't lose her." Guinan's response was matter-of-fact.

"I swear I've never seen a couple this *star crossed* before." She sighed in frustration.

"Well, anyone related to *you* ..."

In contrast to the teasing remark of her confidant, Rychelle suddenly leaned over and lay her head against the older woman's arm.

"What if it happens again, G'eyna? What if we can't get to her in time? It seems like they're gathering strength. There are more of them here than ever. I can't track all of them at once."

She looked up and Guinan was regarding her seriously. "Remember Seyerra. What has been, will be. You will find a way. You always do."

Steeling herself, the younger woman stood taller. "You're right, of course. We will succeed because we must succeed."

For several moments, she said nothing more. But then she turned, the polite veneer of professionalism slid quietly back into place, and it appeared almost as though she had transformed into a new person.

"Once the Counselor is stabilized, please ensure that she is returned to Doctor Crusher's care at Starfleet medical.

"Acknowledged." The Doctor replied with a short nod.

"We'll have to place our trust in Admiral Picard once again, G'eyna. I'm certain he has a lot of explaining to do right now, and I don't envy his position."

The young woman paused and took one last look at their sleeping patient.

"L'Tar." She addressed her chief of security, a stoic Romulan woman in uniform who stood discretely off to one side. "You're with me." The two then turned and entered the corridor on their way to the bridge.

* * *

Chapter 25 "Truth and Consequences" (part I)

"Deanna..."

She heard a voice. A whisper, really. It beckoned to her. Called out to her from some place deep within her soul. She recognized that voice.

"Can you hear me?"

:::yes:::

A part of her she hadn't known existed rose to answer the call.

:::I hear you:::

"Be strong, Deanna. Be strong for me. For all of us..."

A column of air rushed into her lungs, suddenly, forcing her body to arch as she gasped to fill her aching chest with oxygen.

"Doctor!"

That voice again. She knew it... where did she know it from?

"She's awake! She's waking up!"

She felt the slight pressure of a hand on her forehead and then the voice whispered against her ear.

"Shh... it's going to be okay. I promise. Everything will be just fine."

:::I trust you:::

Her mind replied. Her body seemed to relax.

"She's going to be okay." Captain William T. Riker looked up at Doctor Crusher who had only just replaced him at Deanna's bedside. He smiled. "I don't know how I know this, but she's going to be okay."

Crusher worked feverishly with some form of instrumentation Riker didn't recognize, and then, after several moments of uncertainty which felt like hours to the exhausted officer, Beverly afforded Will a tired smile.

"You're absolutely right, Captain. It appears that she's going to be just fine..."

They were interrupted when Deanna made a quiet sound which might have been a groan, had she the strength. Her eyes began to open slowly.. Her mouth was dry and tasted like old metal. She wet her lips distastefully.

"Ohh. I feel as though I've been broken apart and pieced back together..." Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to light up Riker's face.

"You have." The bearer of the voice reached out to brush a tendril of hair from her forehead, caressing her gently. When her eyes had finally found their focus, opening fully, she found herself starring into Will Riker's crystal blue gaze.

"Don't try and move around just yet, Deanna." Doctor Crusher's soft voice intruded. "It looks like someone or something very nearly rebuilt your entire central nervous system. Don't ask me how. But you're lucky to be alive."

"I remember..." Troi sucked in a shallow breath. "The park. We were--" Her face suddenly turned a particularly bright shade of pink, and Beverly raised an eyebrow but made no comment. "We were in the park." Deanna continued. "And then--"

"And then you collapsed." Riker frowned at the memory. "My communicator was non functional. I wanted to get you back to the complex but all of a sudden Admiral Picard showed up with these other --- people. They killed some kind of cloaked predator that had been attacking you. It was invisible but they materialized with these strange devices which seemed to light it up like a beacon. I've seen a lot of odd things in my career, but I'd never seen anything like *that thing* before in my life. After they killed it, they took you away so quickly -- there wasn't time to find out how any of it had happened. And no one's been willing to offer any further explanation about it since then. That's the damnedest part!" The story spilled out in a rampant tumbling of words through which the frustration in Riker's voice became readily apparent. "...Less than an hour later, you just 'reappeared' here in Doctor Crusher's exam room. You were still wearing your uniform and there was no transport signature and no energy trace of any other kind."

Deanna began to struggle to sit up.

"That sounds like a nightmare." She whispered.

When Will tried to discourage her attempt at movement, she tossed him an irritated glare so that he helped her into a seated position instead.

"I feel all right, honestly. Just -- a little disoriented, that's all. But not hurt in any way." The Counselor placed her hand over her forehead.

Will felt Dr. Crushers hand on his shoulder. "She's right Captain. I have no idea how or why, but the fact is, she's fine. Based on what she's been though she should probably still be in a coma recovering from the procedure, and yet her physical health seems to be completely normal. Better than normal. Whomever did this, they're a hell of a lot more advanced medically than we are." Crusher exhaled shortly.

"I heard voices." Deanna suddenly looked up at Will, interrupting the Doctor. "I remember another woman's voice. She was speaking to me, I think."

"Did you hear what she was saying?" Will asked.

"No." With a puzzled frown, Troi shook her head. "Only that I wished I could -- comfort her. She seemed so sad..."

"But you don't remember anything else?" This time it was Beverly who asked the question, and Deanna indicated negative.

"The next thing I remember is Will. Calling to me."

Both Riker and Crusher glanced at one another in surprise. "Calling to you?"

"Yes." Deanna nodded frankly. "He said my name, and then something about being strong..."

This time, Crusher smiled. "Sorry, Deanna. Will's been sitting with you ever since you arrived back here, but the only thing he's actually said aloud was that you'd be okay. Which in and of itself might be a little odd, considering I'm the one with the medical degree around here."

"You really didn't say anything to me?" Troi turned her attention to Will who seemed to be fidgeting with his hands.

"No." He shook his head.

"Look, I'll be right back. I'm going to run into the other lab and grab my charts for the rest of the evening. You two be good." The Doctor winked and then retreated from the room in search of her 'paperwork'. It was then that Deanna heard Will qualify his sentence to her.

"Deanna, I know I said I didn't say anything like that out loud." When she frowned in puzzlement, he added quickly. "But I was thinking those things..." At her look of surprise, he cleared his throat. "Exactly those things."

For a moment, she simply starred at him unblinking. Finally, she spoke.

"That's impossible!" She seemed distressed.

"Well, you're the one who just told me what I was thinking. Don't blame me!" He placed both hands in front of him and shrugged apologetically.

"I couldn't have known what you were thinking. I'm not telepathic, I'm empathic. It's just not possible."

"You keep saying that." Taking several steps towards her bedside, Will placed his hand against her shoulder gently. "Look, it's not a big deal, really, don't even think about it."

"It *is* a big deal!" She returned. "And it's *not* possible!"

"Okay. Okay." He conceded. "It's not possible. It never happened. Why is this such an issue for you?"

"Because..." She answered simply, met his eyes for a moment and then turned away. "I can't explain..."

"Hey..." He whispered. She didn't acknowledge him. "Hey..." He repeated, this time turning her face towards him with his hand. "It's okay. You don't have to. I'm not going anywhere, you can tell me some other time, all right?"

When her eyes suddenly filled with tears, he added quickly: "Or never if you don't want to. Never is good for me. Please... don't cry. You're breaking my heart here."

His last comment was filled with such genuine affection that it seemed to surround her when he spoke. She let out a small laugh, the tears still bright in her gaze.

"Those great big, dark eyes." He sighed ruefully. "You have such an unfair advantage..."

That won him a smile. And she rolled her eyes.

"I bet you say that to all the girls." Her quip made him grin teasingly and he leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially.

"Only the ones with great big, beautiful dark eyes."

This time she slapped his arm playfully. "Write this one off to the stress of having my central nervous system rebuilt, will you?"

When he nodded amicably, she shook her head in moderate disgust. "I can't believe I just burst into tears like that. What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing." Riker's voice turned serious. "And thank God for that. We almost lost you there, Ms. Troi. I was--" He trailed off.

"You were what?" She pressed, staring at his downcast gaze.

"I-uh, I was--"

"Scared?" She whispered. "You can say it, you know. It's okay to be frightened when someone you care about gets hurt."

He afforded her a tired smile. "When you say it like that, it sounds so easy."

"It's never easy." Reaching forward, she took his larger hand in hers. "But it doesn't remain impossible forever."

She understood. Riker stared at her through a mixture of awe and profound relief. Finally, truly, someone really understood. And what was even better: It was her.

Oh, some part of him had known, ever since that fateful night when their hands had closed on the El'Aurian stone -- some part of him recognized that she had won a piece of him. What he hadn't been certain of until now, was that he'd willingly gifted it to her; that everything she saw that night and everything he witnessed of her as well, was shared, not taken.

It struck him now. And when he looked down into her eyes, he knew she'd realized it too.

"So, do you think you can walk out of here on your own, Deanna?" Crusher's voice preceded the Doctor into the exam room and she stopped once she'd entered, regarding the two officers, now inches apart on the bio-bed.

"Am I -- interrupting something? I can come back." She tossed Troi an apologetic look, but the Counselor merely cleared her throat and stood, next to Riker.

"Not at all." Deanna smiled at her friend. "Will was just telling me that he wanted to make sure I got back to my quarters safely. Weren't you Will?"

"Uh... Yes, yes, absolutely. I was." With an identical (and polite) smile, Will hopped to attention and nodded towards the Doctor. "I'll make sure she's okay, Doctor."

"Good..." Trading a look back and forth between the Counselor and the Captain, Beverly Crusher smiled.

"You do that. Have a nice night, both of you." She turned on her heel and marched from the room, pausing for a brief moment before she'd left.

"Oh, and Deanna?" The Doctor tossed over her shoulder. "Do try and stay in-tact for at least *one* full evening, would you?" Then, with a teasing grin, she was gone, and both Riker and Troi sucked in a collective breath.

"Shall we?" He extended his arm out towards her, and this time, the Counselor accepted. Linking her arm with his, the two made their way out of the Medical complex.

* * *

Chapter 26 "Truth and Consequences" (Part II)

"I feel fine, really, Will, you don't have to hold me up." Troi afforded her companion a tolerant smile as they walked slowly towards her building complex.

"Well that's too bad, Counselor, because I'm under strict orders from Doctor Crusher to make sure you get home safely, and I'm very conscientious about my duty." He grinned.

"I can see that." She threw back. "But weren't those my orders? As I recall, I was the one who--"

"Shh." He turned and placed two fingers over her lips, effectively silencing her, and prompting an expression of puzzlement on her behalf. "Maybe I'm also a little worried about you." He searched her eyes. "And maybe I just want a little… physical reassurance that you're actually still here." He trailed off and her gaze softened on him.

"I know." He smiled wanly. "My psychologist would probably tell me that I'm just not willing to admit the way I'm feeling -- yet. So I'm finding ways around that in my usual, less than subtle way..."

At this, he swallowed.

Halting their progress, Deanna squeezed his arm. "I'm okay. Will, I promise." She whispered. "Whomever those other people were, they saved my life. I feel -- fine."

Shaking her head at his dubious expression, she lifted her shoulders.

"Really! I don't know how else to convince you--" Then, with a quick sigh, she reached up. Resting her hands at the back of his neck; she placed her lips on his, kissing him softly.

When their mouths parted, his forehead remained pressed against hers.

"Okay." He murmured. "That was convincing."

"Good." She smiled and took a step backwards. "Because I was running out of ideas..."

His sudden shift in mood caused her face to flush and she blew out a short breath of air: "You are incorrigible!"

Though she regarded him sternly, he had the decency to appear appropriately chagrinned. And Deanna found that no matter how hard she tried, she wasn't able to stay mad at him.

"Hey, I'm just a poor, helpless man. And a human, on top of everything. Aren't there excuses we can lean on for something like that?" He grinned at her and as always, the gesture made her knees feel weak.

"How do you do that?" Biting down on her lip, she regarded him candidly. "When I'm with you, I feel like everything is so -- easy."

Riker shook his head as though he had no answer for her

"I have it on good authority that it's never easy." He quoted for her. "But it doesn't remain impossible forever."

A slow smile touched at the corners of her lips and Troi re-linked her arm with his.

"Come on, you." She bumped him playfully with her shoulder. "I seem to recall that I was promised door to door service and I always collect on my debts."

"I'm glad to hear that, Counselor." Riker inclined his head. "Very glad."

Entering the corridor of her complex, the two officers took a turbolift up to the twenty-fifth floor and found themselves standing in front of her doorway.

"So." She smiled up at him.

"So." He echoed.

"This is it." For a moment there was an awkward silence. "I'd invite you in for something to drink but--"

"No," He shook his head. "Not tonight. Tonight you need to rest. You need to recuperate. Even if you *think* you feel 'fine'."

She sighed, and it seemed to Will that she seemed almost -- disappointed, somehow. Although the emotion wasn't apparent in her expression when next she regarded him.

"You're right. I'll just-- " She touched the door plate and the door slid open behind her, sensing her identity.

Another few moments of silence passed between them. Then Deanna lifted her hand to touch the side of Will's face. In an instant, her mind reflected on the fact that she'd never found a beard particularly attractive on a man -- before now. Perhaps it had been a cultural issue, considering none of the men on Betazed ever grew facial hair of any kind. But on Will... on Will it was different. His eyes were such a compelling shade of blue that having a that little bit of extra 'fur' only served to darken his already striking features. And she seemed to love touching it...

Blushing deeply when she realized she'd been starring at him without speaking for some time, Troi sucked in a deep breath of air and whispered:

"Thank you. For everything. For looking out for me, today."

He tipped his head into her hand. "Always."

His gesture was so simple and yet her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed, completely unprepared for what she was feeling. Not only within her own body, but from him as well.

Having been empathic for her entire lifetime, she had always been able to sense the emotions of others in one way or another. And each of them was unique, each of them had it's own special signature like -- flavors of ice cream. The same emotion might 'taste' just a little bit different on every new individual she encountered. Then, once she got to know a person well, it became easy to distinguish their particular pattern, and comfortably familiar to her as well.

But with Will Riker, it was different still. His feelings seemed as though they could surround her. Wrap herself within their midst and carry her away. At times, especially in the earliest moments of their introduction, that realization had been worrisome for her. Not even her mother had been able to engender that type of response from her. It was confusing, and perhaps even a little bit frightening.

Still, somehow since then, his particular 'pattern' of feeling had come to occupy a very special place inside of her; had come to fill a gap she hadn't even known existed until she'd met him.

Though she wasn't certain how his presence in her life would continue to affect her, nor what his absence would create once he took his place as Captain of the Enterprise in only a few short weeks, she was sure of one thing at least. And that one thing startled her perhaps more than she might have been willing to admit.

In what had been a very short period of time, she had come to cherish and depend upon his friendship. And no matter how it happened, no matter where they went from here, she knew in her heart they would never really lose touch.

"I guess I'll... get some rest." Lowering her hand, she cast her eyes downward momentarily.

"Yeah." He tossed her one of his signature smiles. "I'll see *you* later, Counselor."

Troi took two more steps backwards until she had crossed the threshold of her apartment and stood within its confines. Then she tapped the interior control next to the door and watched it slide closed before her.

Only when the entryway stood shut did she exhale the breath she hadn't even known she was holding. Staring in contemplation at the space Captain Will Riker had only just occupied, she let her fingertips trace the edge of the two doors where they met.

*

On the other side of the corridor, Riker placed his forehead against the door, shut his eyes and sighed deeply.

* * *

Chapter 27 "Fast Forward"

"Fire."

The instant the command left her lips, Seyerra turned towards the Admiral and watched his expression. They were in silent orbit around the Planet Earth, as they had been intermittently ever since their arrival.

Humming back and forth to and from the planet's surface, were the clearly visible forms of numerous Starfleet vessels and shuttlecraft, all headed out to space-dock, or even farther beyond to rendezvous with one of the larger starships currently situated in the alpha quadrant.

Aboard their ship, the Enterprise-L, they held position just within the fabric of this dimension. Pushing gently against the boundaries of the time-stream, they were invisible to current Federation technology, and so was their enemy.

A wide beam of light shot forth from the great ship they stood within, illuminating the silhouettes of hundreds of smaller vessels surrounding Earth. Like the Enterprise-L, these too were cloaked in the delicate transition between one existence and another. Though their numbers made them look like insects, swarming over the delicate glow of the planet's upper ionosphere, they were clearly a species of great technological prowess.

"There must be hundreds of them." Picard exhaled.

"Thousands. Millions." Rychelle stood next to him while the bustle of activity on the bridge continued all around them. "As quickly as we neutralize a new attack force, they send in more. We don't know where they come from or how many there are in total. Only that they seem to have an almost inexhaustible resource of ships, each of them piloted by only one creature. Each of them capable of destroying a small moon all on their own. It is in their numbers that their strength is most profoundly felt."

"Shall I eliminate these ones, Seyerra?" A Romulan woman asked. Rychelle nodded.

"Make it so, L'Tar. Make certain you target them all. We can't afford for them to see us yet."

From beneath the Enterprise, several new beams of light shot forth, engulfing first a handful, then several kilometers worth of the tiny alien ships. As quickly as these blinked out of existence, the Enterprise targeted more and more of them until, in a matter of less than half a minute, the Earth seemed at peace, once more.

"There will be more." Rychelle turned to address Picard. "Within the hour. They will have sent more. This time they will be more careful, better shielded as well, perhaps even situate themselves on the planet's surface. We need to find the rift they travel through and shut it, permanently."

"How can you be certain, even if such a thing was accomplished, that they would not simply form another doorway?" The Admiral frowned.

"Temporal physics." This time, it was Guinan who spoke. "Any race of time travelers must be aware that an incursion into another time stream once is relatively stable. Twice --- perhaps a journey back --- might also hold for the duration." Guinan regarded the Admiral seriously.

"...But one cannot simply continue to rip open doorways in space/time, Admiral. That is an arrogance which has cost many a species their lives. The consequences are catastrophic. These aliens have already moved into two relatively close periods of our history within a very short period in time. First, nine years ago near Betazed, and now here. They've somehow managed to form a stable gateway into this time stream. Stable enough for them to send in thousands of their ships at a time. A feat like that would take a tremendous amount of power and would tax the temporal signature on both ends of the gate. It looks to us to be a maneuver of desperation. And that is a good thing. It means that were we to locate the point of their incursion and seal it, they would be trapped from your present for the duration of a century, at least."

Picard regarded the crew on the bridge around him for a moment. "How do we find them?" He asked, finally.

"We're working on it." Seyerra nodded to her crew. "But in the meantime, we are faced with a more immediate issue. The Counselor and the Captain. They will be asking questions. It's a given that they'll want to know what happened."

The Admiral thinned his lips. "Will Riker is an intelligent man, Seyerra."

"I know." She exhaled and smiled. "I've idolized him long enough. That's where you come in."

"You want me to continue to deceive him, and Starfleet, deliberately." He dropped his gaze and she touched his arm.

"Admiral, you are the only liaison we have. If there were any other way, I assure you I would grasp at it. But I just don't see that we have any choice. -- All of us work together to bring this mission to a successful conclusion. But there are sacrifices to be made along the way."

Picard could only nod. Though he held his share of misgivings for what he was about to do, he had -- for better or worse -- chosen to trust these people. And what Seyerra said held value. It made sense, even to the part of him which wondered if he could do what she asked.

"Then you will continue to help us?"

"I will." With a short exhale, he turned towards her. "I don't envy the person who finds themselves up against you in an argument, Seyerra."

At this, she smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Oh, it was. Just that."

"L'Tar, I need to make a trip to the surface. Coordinates 48 mark 3."

"Casey's Lounge?" Guinan glanced up in surprise.

"Yes." Seyerra pulled an object from her vest. "I have something I need to give to my grandfather..."

* * *

Chapter 28 "Misconceptions"

Though Riker had initially gone back to his quarters, he'd found himself unable to rest; unable to do much of anything except lay awake and think.

And so, after tossing and turning for several hours, he finally sat up in bed with a sigh. If he couldn't sleep, then maybe he could do his thinking somewhere a little more - upbeat. At least at Casey's there would be music, noise and people. Perhaps that would drown out the incessant circular confusion he felt as he tried to make heads or tails out of what was going on: Primarily where his feelings for the Counselor were concerned.

She was - unlike any person he had ever met. Doctor Crusher had been right about that. But there was something else about her, too. Something linked to the very familiar feelings she had evoked in him from the moment they'd met.

Raking his fingers through his hair, the Captain rose from a seated position and pulled on a loose fitting tunic and some pants. He paused at the doorway to his quarters, deciding whether or not to take a jacket with him and then opted against it, sliding through the entryway without ceremony. He headed out into the night.

*

It was a little past 22:30 hours when Riker pushed his way through the ornate street-front doorway to the lounge. Immediately assaulted by the incredible din of music and laughter, he realized dimly that he had managed to stumble in on the Friday night crowd.

With a sigh and a smile, he made his way up to the bar and squeezed in between two non-com officers to order a synthale.

Dropping a credit chit onto the bar, Riker took his ale and turned to find a spot some place towards the quieter end of the room. Under normal circumstances, he might have been more than happy to engage in the light-hearted, jovial conversation of his comrades, but tonight was different. Tonight, he felt like - what did he feel like?

Brooding. That was a good word for it. With a semi-disgusted shake of the head, Riker sank down into a chair at his favorite table. The one by the window. He attended to his drink… and his thoughts.

It was said of Casey's that if you stood (or sat) in one place long enough, everyone you knew would come by. Riker had never given the thought much consideration until this evening. But after being greeted by, and coaxed into short conversations with several former colleagues -- as well as two old friends from his days on board the **Hood** -- Will had begun to feel as though coming out to 'think' this evening hadn't been one of his more inspired ideas.

Taking his leave politely as the last of his 'old friends' walked by, the Captain rose from his seat and made his way over to the bar where he slipped into one of the taller chairs, placing his untouched ale in front of him in the hopes that he might finally be able to drink and think

Less than a moment later, a very low, very feminine voice spoke up from beside him.

"So, what's a great looking guy like you doing, sitting all alone in a place like this?"

He turned, just in time to catch his breath at her incredibly beautiful eyes. Dark and intense, they were also blue. The darkest blue he had ever seen. And her short, smooth hair terminated in a particularly captivating way, just at the line of her jaw.

Under almost any other circumstances, he would have fallen all over himself to get to know her better. Tonight, however, despite the enraged screams of some petulant voice hidden someplace in the "id" of his psyche, he merely shrugged politely.

"You know, that's normally my line." He answered with a grin.

"I figured." She nodded in a knowing fashion, and he regarded her anew. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar. Yet he couldn't place his finger on just exactly what it was...

"So why the long face?" Pulling up a bar-chair next to him, without an invitation, she hoisted her self up to sit.

"Oh, just thinking, I guess. Unwinding for the evening." He turned towards her. "If you don't mind my saying so, you don't particularly look like you belong here either, Ms..."

"Andrew. Ensign Andrew." She flashed him a brilliant smile, no less captivating than one of his own. "But you can call me Rychelle."

"Rychelle, that's a very pretty name. I mean that." He nodded in appreciation.

"Thanks. Say, you wouldn't care to dance would you? My date sort of stood me up, and I'd like to have just one turn on the floor before I go. Don't worry, I don't get complicated on the first dance..." She winked at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

She was so self assured, her manner so confidant and disarming that Will found himself more than a little admiring of her. And so, despite the nagging voice in the back of his head which warned him against such 'dangerous' liaisons, he found himself accepting her request.

When she slipped from the barstool and touched his elbow he assented, leaving his drink on the bar. Once on the tiny dance floor, the two found themselves face to face while some nameless song drifted above and over their heads.

"You know I've heard a lot about you, Captain."

"Really?" At this, his gaze grew keen. "And I suppose you were wondering if you might get an assignment on board the Enterprise, right?"

"Oh hell no." She laughed. "I already *have* one of those."

"Okay, now I admit, you have my curiosity, Ensign." Smiling down at her, he caught her gaze.

"Why? We're off duty, Captain. Can't a nice girl ask a really cute guy to dance anymore? There has to be an ulterior motive?" With a practiced, and decidedly coy, frown, she sighed.

"Well no." Riker conceded. "But you aren't just a 'nice girl'. You're a very beautiful woman, and my experience with most beautiful women is that they're more dangerous than they let on. Most of the time."

At that, she grinned. "You have a keen sense of observation, Captain. I won't argue that point. Actually, you're right, I did come here hoping for more than a dance."

At her decidedly forward admission, Riker pulled back and regarded her through an expression of mild surprise. But she belayed his unspoken question.

Pulling him so close just then that their heads appeared almost as one, she whispered into his ear:

"I came here to give you this."

Taking hold of one of his hands in hers, Rychelle turned it over and placed a small oval object inside of it, then closed his fingers over top.

"Don't lose it." She spoke quickly into his ear. "The top control will make them visible. The bottom one will kill them. Make sure you remember which is which."

Before he could respond, before he'd had the opportunity to take a breath, she pulled away from him and backed into the crowd on the dance floor.

"Wait a second..." He called out to her, glancing down for only a moment at the instrument in his hand. It was then that he realized where he'd seen her before, and just what the object was for.

"Rychelle...!" His eyes flew upwards and he scanned the crowd, but she was gone.

Turning on his heel, he spun around to search for her behind him, and that was when he saw Deanna.

Standing in the doorway to the Lounge, their eyes met and locked. And suddenly he knew that she'd been staring at him from across the room.

For a fraction of a second, Riker was insanely certain he felt her anger. A stabbing sense of betrayal which cut through him like a knife. But then it was gone. And she was gone; turned around and fled the distance through the doorway, out into the night.

"Damn it!" He called to no one in particular. "Damn it, Damn it!" Shoving the smooth oval object into the folds of his shirt, the Captain cast one final glance across the room before launching forward through the crowd, and out the door, himself.

* * *

Chapter 29 "Imzadi"

"Deanna, wait, please, wait!" Calling after her into the darkness, Riker hurried to catch up.

When he finally made it to her position, he reached out for her and grasped her arm.

"I apologize, Captain. Were you addressing me?" Her voice was frosty. Shaking free of his grasp, Troi tossed him what could only have been referred to as an icy glare, matching the tone of her voice.

"Deanna... let me explain."

"Explain what? You were out at a bar having a few drinks with your *date* and I happened to drop by the same establishment. I was having trouble sleeping, I thought I might like to be in a room full of people for a while, but then I just decided I didn't feel like coming in. That's all. I changed my mind. Please, feel free to go back to your evening, Captain. You owe me nothing."

He could hear the hurt in her voice. He didn't have to feel it. But he did that too --- somehow.

"But I wasn't *with* a date." He argued.

At this, she tossed her head in disbelief and turned, walking briskly through the park towards her complex.. He jogged along after her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was she your wife then? You might have forgotten to mention her, seeing as how we barely know one another. It would be perfectly understandable..."

"What? N-no... no! Listen to me. Deanna, you have this all wrong."

"It doesn't *matter* Will." They reached the entryway to her building and she turned in the doorway. "I don't know why you think you have to explain anything to me. I really don't care..."

He followed her through the door and into the turbolift meeting her searing expression head on. Shutting the lift doors, he punched up her floor for her and then found that he could barely speak. As the car began to rise, he was finally able to whisper firmly:

"That isn't true. I know that isn't true."

For a moment, she simply stared at him in silence. But then the turbolift halted, the doors hissed open and she exhaled quickly before she marched right through the now-open space.

"Believe whatever you'd like."

"Deanna, please..." His voice was strong this time, powerful almost. And as she entered her own apartment, he placed his hand out to block the doorway to her suite before it could slide shut.

={Warning. Security breach. Doorway obstructed. Call for enforcement in 10 seconds. Please enter override code to cancel}=

The computer's voice startled both of them, but Riker refused to budge. Instead, his eyes locked with hers.

"You have 10 seconds to decide whether a security team carries me out of this building, or whether you've ever considered me enough of a friend that you might owe me the chance to at least explain some of this to you." He spoke calmly.

Deanna was silent, her gaze daring him to 'chicken out' before the imminent call. But Will Riker had never backed out of a conflict before in his life. He wasn't about to start now.

={Warning. Security breach. Call for enforcement in 7 seconds.}=

"What you saw in there was a woman I've never met before... the same woman who saved you from that creature. She gave me something. That's all."

={5 seconds}=

"I swear to you, that's who she was."

But Troi recalled the intimate way in which the woman's head had been pressed against his, they looked as though they'd been a lot more than strangers...

={3 seconds}=

"I would never hurt you on purpose, Deanna. I care about you -- a lot." He entreated.

={2 seconds}=

"I think I'm in love with you..." He blurted. And then nearly tumbled from the doorway in shock at his own admission.

={1 second}=

Deanna punched her code into the console next to her doorway and then crossed her arms over her chest, stepping backwards in confusion.

={Security enforcement cancelled}=

The computer's dulcet voice was the last sound either one of them was to hear for long moments, save for the sound of their own breathing.

Unmoving, Deanna watched him standing in her doorway. He looked almost as confused as she felt -- and for the first time, she realized that this was because it was impossible for her to tell what he was feeling. As though her own emotions at the moment had completely clouded her ability to sense him.

That cinched it. There was only one way that was possible. Only one way and it couldn't be true! Her eyes went wide then narrowed in defiance.

"You don't love me." She finally whispered, stepping even farther back into the empty space. "You barely know me."

The lights were off. Neither one of them had made any move to turn them on and so it was in the dim glow of the moonlight from outside her apartment window that Will exhaled slowly, glancing first downward to regain his equilibrium, and then back up at her with new purpose in his eyes.

"I know you." He countered. "I know that you care very deeply -- sometimes you even wonder if it might be too deeply -- about people. About your patients, and the lives of everyone you touch."

When she glanced away self consciously, Will took a step forward and continued:

"I know that you like chocolate." He smiled and she glanced up at him quickly, where he could see the color which had stolen into her face. "I know that you feel it's important to make a difference." He continued. "And you do. You touch so many people's lives, every day."

By now, he'd made his way inside and stood directly before her, the doorway having closed obediently behind him.

"I also know that you're the only person who's ever really known *me*. And not just the facade. The 'face' I let everyone see; the one I'd almost managed to convince myself was all I had. You seem to know what's real inside of me. You've seen the part of myself I locked away and swore I would never share. And you didn't run. I was so sure that you would run..."

That caught her attention. She raised her gaze slowly to meet his.

"Deanna." He swallowed. "I've been with a lot of women in my life. I've earned a reputation ..."

"Did you come here to brag, then?" She accused.

"Let me finish?" He whispered, still standing before her.

She kept her arms folded across her chest, and looked away, but did not move.

"You probably think I'm crazy." Riker cleared his throat self consciously. "Hell, maybe I am. I'm no expert on feelings, that's for sure. Not the way you are. But I do know--" He pinned her with his gaze. "I know what it is I'm feeling right now. For the first time - in my LIFE, everything is clear. And it's not easy. You were right, it is anything *but* easy." His voice trailed off to a whisper. "That doesn't change the fact that it's real. God, how do I - even begin?"

Riker exhaled slowly, noticing that she'd been staring at him in a way he'd never seen her before. He ducked his head.

"I know who I was. I know I've earned a reputation as a guy who lives life in the fast lane. I never really had time to think about what it might be like … falling 'in love'. Anyway, I didn't believe it was possible. Thought it was just - one of those fairly tales in life that happened to other people. People who weren't me, at least. And to be honest, that's all I ever wanted..."

He began to shake his head as though uncertain how to phrase what he needed to say.

"...But you... Deanna, I met you and every day it was like something new inside of me broke free. A piece at a time. I don't know how or why. Honestly, I thought I *was* going crazy for a while. Or that you might have been doing something weird, playing some kind of head game with me --- trying to make me break so that I'd lose the Enterprise."

She met his gaze he could see her eyes widen, and her mouth open as though to defend herself.

"But then I came to trust you. I came to value your friendship and your advice. Even when we didn't always agree..." He nodded at her. "That's when I realized I knew. Beyond any shadow of any doubt. The only thing which could ever truly break inside of me... would be my heart ... if I lost you."

He ended with that, his eyes downcast. And she said nothing, at first. There were no words within her. She shook her head instead.

"Sometimes..." She finally began after a long moment. "When it seems as though I must know just what I'm saying..." She swallowed, then raised her eyes to where he could see the star light reflected in her tears. "I feel as though I'm really just making it up as I go along." She exhaled quickly.

He afforded her a lopsided half-smile. And a whisper:

"Me too."

"So I guess…" Deanna shook her head. "Right now, what I'm saying is that … I really don't know what to say at all..."

Riker sighed. "Well, maybe, for starters, you could say -- you'll let me explain what happened in there tonight. That you'll at least listen to what I have to tell you..."

This time, she nodded wordlessly and Riker unclasped his hands where he'd been holding them.

"After you and I said goodbye earlier this evening, I went back to my quarters. But I couldn't sleep." He glanced up at her and saw that she was indeed following his story.

"I had a lot on my mind, I guess. Things I hadn't thought about in a long time, I don't know... I went down to Casey's and pretty much just sat there. I had a drink, and then this woman -- she approached me all of a sudden with a pretty familiar pick-up line." He wanted to smile at the memory, but quickly checked first to assess whether he'd be fish-bait if he did so. Seeing Deanna's own rueful twist of the lips, he allowed himself to shrug and return her expression with one of his own.

"She said she was an Ensign. Ensign Rychelle Andrew. Ring any bells?"

When Troi shook her head 'no', he continued:

"And then she asked me to dance. She said her date had stood her up and that she'd heard a lot about me. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued by her story..."

"Well, she was also very beautiful, as I recall..." Deanna interjected.

"Yes, she was." He didn't argue. "But I'd been thinking about somebody else all evening long, and to be honest, I wasn't really in the mood for other company..." His eyes met hers, daring her to challenge him, but she didn't.

Instead, he heard her sigh softly.

"So, we talked and danced for maybe five minutes. And then she pulled me down and whispered in my ear about having something to 'give to me'. She drops this..." He extracted the small oval object from his pocket and held it out. "...into my hand, tells me that the top control will make them visible and the bottom one will kill them. Then she just -- disappears."

"Them?" Deanna shook her head.

"That's what I thought. At first. But then it hit me. She was one of the women who appeared out of nowhere with Admiral Picard and then dragged you off to save your life. They were both using the same little weapons. These things..." He tumbled the tiny unit through his fingers for a moment. "I have a feeling she was doing this to help us, somehow, but before I could ask her any questions, she was gone. And then I turned around and you were there and, well, the whole thing just gets way out of control after that, as I recall."

He dropped his gaze, and so did she.

For a while, neither of them spoke, and then Deanna whispered.

"I had put in a request to have the Counselor's post aboard the Enterprise -- before we ever talked about it. If you'd agreed with me that day, I might have told you what I'd done, but as it was..." She glanced up at him and shook her head.

"…I truly felt - feel -- that it *is* important. That if I was content to sit behind a desk down here while everything I'd always spoken out against kept happening 'up there', I didn't deserve to hold my position. After all, what was I accomplishing, if I wasn't willing to stand up for what I believed in?"

When she looked at Will, she saw that he was listening, and that there was understanding in his eyes, though it was clear he still disagreed with certain portions of this idea, as ever. He didn't speak.

"…But you were right anyway." She exhaled slowly. "Starfleet Command denied the request. They said I was too important here and that I should assign someone -- anyone -- else to the position." She almost laughed at that. "At first I was livid. But now -- now I think perhaps it might be better this way, all things considered."

Riker dropped his gaze. "I see." He finally spoke, and when he did his tone took on a more professional level. "I'm sorry, Counselor. You're right. I should never have intruded here, but I wanted to explain what happened. I didn't want you to think -- I don't know how to apologize for the rest of it. What I said. I had no right." He trailed off, suddenly uncertain whether or not the emotion in his voice had been apparent. When she continued to stare at him but didn't respond, he began to back away.

"I'm sorry." He repeated. "I'll be going. I'd better--"

He turned towards her doorway and had almost reached it when he heard her voice. Only this time, it was different. It was as though she were calling to him from someplace deep inside himself.

:::Please don't. Don't go.::: Like a whisper in his mind, the feeling of her presence washed over him.

And then she spoke aloud. "You're breaking my heart…

It was an intentional echo of his earlier words to her, and he knew it. But it stopped him in his tracks more surely than any speeding transport ever could have.

He shut his eyes and turned. And when he opened them again he saw the play of moonlight reflected in her gaze.

"I heard you..." He murmured in awe. "In my head..."

He walked towards her slowly.

"I know." She swallowed, blinking back the tears which threatened to fall despite her every effort to contain them.

"But I thought you weren't telepathic."

"I'm not." She answered simply; unmoving though he approached her.

"Neither of us are." His heart began hammering against the inside of his chest.

She shook her head.

"Then how...?" His question came just as he reached her position.

Before she could answer it, Troi felt the first of those annoying teardrops fall, tracing a slow, languid pathway down her cheek. When he reached for it; brushed it away with his fingertip and then cupped the side of her face in his hand, she turned her head into his palm.

"Kiss me." She whispered, reaching up to touch the hand he had already used against her face. She curled her fingers around his.

His eyes searched hers for a moment as though unsure how to proceed. Though he knew what he wanted, there was a surreal quality to it all which made him feel like shivering, out of control.

:::Kiss me, Will::::

He heard her voice again, inside his head and it felt as though she'd filled his entire being with her presence. She found him everywhere at once.

He lowered his head to hers, took her face between his hands and covered her mouth with a worshipful kiss. He kissed her with every ounce of passion he felt for her; as though it were possible to convey in one moment - everything he'd been feeling for so long.

Her hands drew him forward. Resting against the back of his neck, they coaxed him down towards her while she moaned softly in response to their steadily deepening intimacy.

She felt his body shift against her; felt the heat of him wrap itself around her with his arms. And she opened her mind to him; in the most ancient, sacred way of her people -- she confronted the paradox. And she received the impossible.

Then she knew. Beyond any doubt, she understood something which she had never before dared to imagine. He was human and she was only half Betazoid, yet the connection they shared was undeniably real.

Letting his hands glide over the contours of her body, Will found that he couldn't get enough of her at once. She was like a drug to which he had become hopelessly addicted. And though he'd heard in his youth, of the romantic notion that a person might never know what it was to "make love" until they'd shared that passion with the person they were truly in love with, he had never -- until this moment -- had any opportunity to know that it was true.

How could he let her go? How could he ever let her go and survive? He banished the thought from his consciousness, replacing it instead with the reality that she was here with him, right now. Real and warm and kissing him back with the same intent and passion which drove him to hunger so desperately for more.

When they finally broke for air, breathless and panting, mere millimeters separating their faces -- he felt her presence wash over him again; heard her whisper.

:::don't stop::::

And her lips captured his once more.

Lifting her into his arms, he shifted his attention from her face, to the edge of her collar bone, exposed through the casual tunic she wore. He was rewarded with her sharp intake of breath, and the feeling of her hair spilling down over his arms when her head tipped backward, allowing him greater access to the object of his current affection.

Walking with her into the other room, Riker set the Counselor down, gently, in a seated position at the edge of her bed. He sat next to her then, and reaching forward, brushed a wayward lock of dark hair from where it had tumbled into her face.

"I keep feeling like -- this is a dream." He found himself whispering, still running his fingers through her beautiful hair. He swallowed.

"What if it is?" She asked, her gaze large and thoughtful even while she tipped her head to place her lips inside his palm where he held it next to her face.

He regarded her in awe. Through the eyes of a man who had only just discovered he was in love.

"I don't know." He answered truthfully. "I might be worried, except that you nearly let a security team carry me out of here a few minutes ago." This time he smiled, and she exhaled quickly in what was obviously a short laugh.

"Well then it has to be real." Her eyes danced when she spoke.

"Good point." He whispered, leaning forward to cover her mouth once again with his.

:::I do love you::::

Her voice filled his soul. And he pulled back, his eyes expressive of the question he was about to ask her.

"Did you just--"

She nodded.

"I was afraid to tell you, earlier. I didn't know how it could be, after so little time. I wasn't sure how to understand what it was I'd been feeling. Whether it was even possible. But now -- I can't imagine that what I'm feeling *isn't* real. Or why I've been fighting it for so long..." She searched his gaze.

:::I'm not afraid anymore:::

Deanna watched him, enchanted with the way his eyes grew more and more captivated with every word she spoke inside his mind. It was so new for him; it was new for her too, but not the way it was for Will. He had never known anything like this.

:::Would you like to know what I'm feeling?:::: She offered shyly. :::Clear your thoughts - Let me show you.:::

And then he did.

Bearing her down gently into the mattress below, she heard his soft intake of air when he remarked:

:::It feels like floating:::

Her gentle laughter filled his head. It did feel that way, a little. But her face grew serious once more, and a sound of pleasure escaped her lips when he turned his attention from her lips to the sensitive skin just below her ear.

Will had never felt so completely consumed with desire in his entire life. More than that, he had felt the urgency of passion before but it had always been purely physical. Never like this. This felt as though he might die if he wasn't able to touch her; mind *and* body. The connection she'd forged between their thoughts had already become painfully addictive.

As their exploration grew more fevered, he could feel her small hands reaching for the bottom of his tunic, and he helped her pull it up, over his shoulders, returning from the brief lapse in contact only to fasten his mouth on hers with renewed passion.

When they had both finally divested themselves of all encumbrances to their union, Will reached for Deanna and drew her close. He felt her breath against his skin, warm and sweet, and whispered softly into her hair. Something he might never have imagined himself ever saying to a person. Yet it seemed the most honest expression he could think of for the way she'd made him feel this night.

"I love you, Dee. You fill me with such - wonder."

He saw her large, ebony eyes close for a moment, and then she pressed forward, touching his lips with her own where he felt her teardrops against his skin.

"Did you just call me 'Dee'?" She whispered. And belatedly, he realized he had.

"Yeah." Smiling down at her, he whispered back. "I guess I did."

For a time, her gaze remained thoughtful.

"I love it." She finally sighed, punctuating her approval with a slow, sensual brush of her lips over his.

:::Imzadi::::

A funnel of liquid ecstasy spilled down over him, accompanying the feeling of her presence in his mind. This wasn't just a word - it had somehow merged with her; with him - perhaps them both. She had filled this word with something - different. His eyes fell shut and he caught her hand where she threaded her fingers with his.

:::Imzadi::: His mind seemed to echo... But what did it mean?

"... don't stop." Her breathless plea fell against his lips and he sighed with pleasure when she dipped her head, drawing her lips across his neck.

Rolling over, he lifted her on top of him so that she straddled his waist. He watched as the length of her long, dark tresses tumbled down over her shoulders once again. God, he loved her. Loved her hair. Her laughter. Her eyes. Her body. Her presence in his mind -- just everything about her.

Looking up at her just then, he was frozen with the power of the realization. The absolute truth of the knowledge that he had never felt more complete.

It shattered the walls which had forced him to take lover after lover in the past, always searching but never knowing why, or what it was he so desperately desired.

And then, when he saw her luminous eyes look down upon him; the promise in her expression when her body began to lower itself farther and farther, until it joined with his --- In that instant, Riker knew that he was irrevocably lost.

And it couldn't have been more wondrous...

* * *

Chapter 30 "Last Night..."

As tendrils of sunlight began to filter down through the window in her bedroom, Counselor Troi stirred in her sleep.

She had been having the most wonderful dream... Her eyes slid open, adjusting to the light, while her 'waking' mind suddenly became aware of a familiar presence, not simply with her in the room -- but all around her. It filled her with a feeling of belonging such as she had never known.

Will. His arm surrounded her where she lay with her head propped against the crook of his shoulder. Troi's thoughts drifted over the events of the previous evening.

Their conversation, subsequent argument -- what he'd said to her in the medical facility which had made her certain life might never be the same, for either of them.

And then her finding him, at Casey's. That memory stirred only an inkling of regret. Mostly for her not having been able to read his sincerity. The one 'disadvantage' of falling in love for a Betazoid empath (she'd heard), meant that one's own emotions could suddenly step in and cloud the reading of others.

Until last night, she'd never experienced anything which might have proven this to her. Then again, until last night, she'd never experienced anything so ... fulfilling, either.

A languid smile touched the corners of her lips. Will was also, without question, the most generous lover she had ever known. He seemed somehow to anticipate her desires before even she became aware of them.

Oh, there'd been other men before, of course. Beverly Crusher truly had been teasing her about that 'vow of celibacy'. But in another sort of way, there really hadn't been any other men. None who had ever come forth and touched her soul the way Will Riker had. None she had ever allowed so near her heart, until now.

Perhaps that too was strange. For she couldn't ever remember when exactly it was that she had 'lowered her shields' for this man; didn't truly believe she had, in all honesty. Yet somehow he had managed to find a way inside, even without her help. She'd promised him friendship, and ended up handing him her heart.

With a soft sigh, Deanna allowed the glow of 'new love' to wash over her once more. Whatever the case, however it had happened, she had found her Imzadi. Her spirit had been reunited with its mate. And such things were so rare; even on Betazed, that it was a gift to be cherished forever. She knew she would never be over the simple awe of it.

Troi drew her hand softly across Will's chest.

"G'morning." She heard his voice then, or felt it rather -- beneath her ear. And then he was looking down on her, his languid blue gaze drinking in the features of her face.

"Hi." She whispered. Shifting over, she tipped her head and placed her lips on his.

Carefully, so as not to disrupt either one of them, Will gently extracted his arm and then used it to prop his head up so that he lay sideways, facing her.

"So, I guess by now we both know it wasn't a dream." His voice was low and drowsy, and Deanna found that she adored it.

"Yes." At this she smiled almost shyly.

"Which is a good thing." Riker continued. "You know, since the last time I woke up in this bed, I ended up out in the hallway with the door shut in my face."

When he saw the color which stole into her cheeks at the mention of that fateful morning, Will felt his heart fill with the presence of her.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are first thing in the morning?" He whispered, leaning down for what was to have been a short brush of his lips against hers, but what quickly turned into something far, far deeper as she reached for him, and he pressed forward, coaxing her mouth open with his own.

"We're never going to make it out of here, at this rate." Troi sighed when her lover turned his attention to the base of her neck.

Slowly, reluctantly, the two finally managed to disengage, and for a time, Riker regarded her thoughtfully.

"You're wondering about something." She whispered. "Tell me..."

"Deanna, last night..." Will began. "I remember you said something to me. In my head. Something I didn't understand. **Imzadi** I remember the word so clearly, it felt like you were somehow attached to it. Like I could hear it everywhere."

With a quick downward glance, the Counselor met his gaze.

"It's a Betazoid word. It means -- beloved."

When she saw him smile, she reached forward to place her fingers against his lips. "But it also has a further meaning."

Riker's expression sobered and he nodded. "All right..."

"In a very spiritual sense, my people also believe that it means 'the first'." As his eyes widened, she added quickly: "Not physically. Emotionally, it has to do with what you might call the soul. It's a bond, of sorts. A union seldom achieved, even by lovers. It signifies ---" She paused then, in frustration, as though searching for a word which simply didn't exist in Terran Standard.

"Like-- Soulmates?" Riker offered. And when she searched his eyes, she saw none of the usual 'tolerant disbelief' so many humans had come to offer at the notion of true "Soulmates".

Then again, she had never heard of a human ever having experienced the union before, either. It was rare enough on Betazed. Yet here they were, together. Three quarters of them human. No question of what had happened the night before. The evidence was real.

She exhaled quickly, almost as though she might laugh.

"What is it?" He asked.

"It's just that -- it's said that certain of my people experience the bond because of the way our minds are able to function. As rare as such a thing is, we're taught that it happens because we are a telepathic species. But I am only half Betazoid. And you're not at all..."

Riker could hear the 'Counselor' enter her voice as she spoke and he shook his head. "Dee, before last night, I might have been the first one to proclaim that none of this were possible. Partly because I'd never known anything could feel that powerful." His eyes searched hers, though she remained silent. "And partly, because you're right. I'm not telepathic. And neither are you. But the fact is that I heard you -- I spoke with you, inside my mind. We shared --- *something* I can't even articulate. Maybe -- maybe it isn't right for us to over analyze?"

Caught completely off guard at his candid comment, Deanna found that she was speechless for a time. Here he was, "Mr. Practicality" himself. The man who had little more than two weeks ago told her there was no room for compromise in that mindset. And now he was asking *her* to take a leap of faith the likes of which she'd only dreamed possible before.

"Wow." She finally breathed, her eyes still locked with his.

"I know." He smiled wryly. "If I hadn't heard myself just say that, I probably wouldn't believe it either."

He leaned forward and kissed her again, then fell backwards onto the bed with a sigh of resignation. "I think I have a briefing in less than an hour..."

With a raised eyebrow, she called out:

..."Computer, time..."

={The time is 07:10 hours}= A dutiful response came back.

"Ugh." She groaned.

"Me too."

For a time, they simply lay there in silence, but all of a sudden, Troi found herself lifted above the bed by strong arms, turned, and pressed backward into the mattress below her. Will Riker's body settled on top of her.

"Think they'd mind if we played hooky?" He grinned. So did she.

"Yes." She tossed back.

"So how about..." He offered, tracing his lips across the tendon in her neck. "We both go to work. Make it through the day..." He switched sides and tugged on her ear with his teeth. "And then have dinner." He whispered, now rising above her to regard her somewhat flushed expression with a darkening gaze. "And then..." He whispered.

"Then..." She echoed, right before their mouths came together for one final, soul shattering kiss.

"I like that idea." Her slightly breathless voice came back to him.

"Me too." He murmured. His forehead resting atop hers. "I just wish we could skip the part about 'making it through the day'."

With a deep and regretful sigh, Deanna pushed up on him, forcing him away from her, only a few inches. "Well, Imzadi -- the sooner we get started on that part, the sooner we'll see it through."

"Your logic is infallible, Ms. Troi."

With a wry smile, Riker lifted himself from the bed into a seated position and Deanna regarded him appreciatively.

"Ohhh... you'd better get going, or I'm likely to change my mind!" She teased.

Flashing her one of his signature grins, he hopped from the bed and slipped into the nearby washroom, while Troi sank back under the covers, mumbling something unintelligible...

* * *

Chapter 31 "Enter The Dragon"

"Take us about! ... On screen!" The youngest of the Troi family barked. Then she folded her arms before her and dropped her head to her chest, closing her eyes.

"Keep it coming, helm... There. It's very strong this time..." She lifted her head and stared at the vast floor to ceiling view-port which, though it seemed 'solid' most of the time, now revealed a breathtaking view of the planet Earth.

"Attack vector, ma'am?" called the helmsman.

"243 mark 7, One quarter impulse." She continued.

The ship continued to bear slowly in the direction she instructed, a narrow-beam sensor sweep preceding it -- searching. Moments later, a huge monolithic vessel, nearly twice the size of the Enterprise-L emerged into view as their time streams coalesced. Brightly illuminated by the specially charged tachyon particles which the smaller ship had been using as a method of detection, it was unlike any of the other ships Rychelle had seen before.

"Gods in heaven..." Her voice breathed. The great ship continued to draw closer to the planet's atmosphere, seemingly unaware of their presence as yet.

"All stop." Seyerra sucked in a deep breath. For nearly five seconds she was silent. "Well, I'm open to suggestions this time."

With a glance at L'Tar, she found the other woman staring at the vessel in the view screen with an expression that could only be described as surprise --- for a Romulan.

"Have we ever encountered one this large before?" This time she turned and pinned Guinan with a sharp look.

"No." The older woman shook her head almost imperceptibly.

"Please correct me if I'm wrong, I'd love to be wrong about this. I only took four additional years of tactical strategy at the Academy in my wayward youth--" She quipped sarcastically, knowing full well that those were four years more than anyone else on her bridge had taken, with masters of the craft. "--but if I had to hazard a guess," She continued. "I'd say that ship could probably blow us out of the quadrant in a matter of seconds."

Guinan returned the other woman's serious gaze. "I'm afraid I have to agree."

"I concur." L'Tar scowled deeply. "Recommend we back off to a safe distance -- for now."

Seyerra lowered her head slowly, staring at the floor. "We can't leave this planet unprotected." She whispered.

"What kind of power do we have in Engineering right now?" Guinan's voice broke in.

"Capability warp factor 50." An ensign from tactical responded. "All systems nominal and all weapons charged to full power."

"Seyerra... I know we can't take them in a fair fight." The older woman pointed out. "But perhaps we can take them in a battle of the mind."

When the Betazoid looked up, she frowned. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Not that." Guinan shook her head. "Not yet. I mean something a little simpler. Something so simple, perhaps they won't even figure it out -- until it's too late. If it works we might be able to divert their immediate attention from the planet, and hopefully buy ourselves a little time to figure out how to disable them."

With a perplexed stare, Seyerra cocked her head. "You have my attention. What do you have in mind."

"How about a little game of "Chicken"?" The El'Aurian smiled.

Chapter 32 "Hide and Go Dead"

"If that's all then...?" Captain William T. Riker pulled two PADDs from the table and tucked them under his arm, moving to rise from his seat as he did so. "Dismissed for lunch. We'll reconvene at 14:00."

The rest of the potential and already recruited 'bridge crew' for the U.S.S. Enterprise-D stood from the conference table and began to file out of the conference chamber he had commandeered. He found it satisfying that they left in small groups, already chattering to one another about the ship -- their ship now.

When the room had finally cleared, Riker moved quietly to one of the windows of the room and stared out of it. Watching the various shuttles and transport vessels zip back and forth across San Francisco's harbor district, he found his mind wandering, and of course, it didn't take long for it to make it's way to her.

He smiled. In just a few more hours, they would meet in her office and head out for dinner. He could hardly wait. The required administration and logistics of a newly commissioned starship included everything. Requisitions for personnel, weapon stores, repair and replacement of supplies, emergency equipment and special technology units. Items on a checklist which was both excruciatingly dull and vitally necessary. Even with the help of the replicators available to them, the administrivia seem to go on forever. He now understood what Napoleon might have meant when he famously remarked that 'an army marched on its stomach'.

Having been in meetings all morning long, he was beginning to feel that there would never be an end to the red tape and paperwork a Captain was required to slog through. If someone had warned him, perhaps he might have made a different decision along the way...

With a chuckle to himself, Will sighed. Who was he kidding? He'd wanted to captain a starship from the time he was a little boy. No matter what he had to go through to get there, whom he had to leave behind...

Leave behind... He suddenly dropped his gaze from the window to the floor.

"Beautiful morning, Captain." A voice behind him startled him from his thoughts. He turned.

"Admiral..." He nodded to the older man, still somewhat annoyed with him for his curt refusal to explain any of the mysterious events surrounding Deanna Troi's apparent kidnapping and subsequent reappearance. Not to mention her miraculous recovery from a near fatal injury.

"Have you been to the ship yet? I hear she's been moved from the fitting yard to the space-dock. She should be almost ready..." Picard tried to cut the tension somewhat and was rewarded with a tired smile from his junior officer.

"No sir. I was planning on it sometime this afternoon. Care to join me?"

"I'd like that." The Admiral nodded. "Torture myself just a little, you know." He smiled. "See what I gave up?"

"Your choice." Riker cut in, suddenly unsympathetic. "We all make choices, don't we?"

"Yes... that we do." Picard pursed his lips. There was definitely something else on the younger man's mind.

"Look, Will..." He stepped forward. "There are reasons for our orders sometimes which we aren't granted the opportunity to examine. Should that opportunity present itself at some point in the future, however, there is always time to look back ... and to understand."

"Yes sir." Riker answered, noncommittally.

"You're a fine officer, Will. A brilliant strategist, and I hope -- a friend. I know that you will make the federation proud as Captain of our Flag Ship."

When he didn't respond, Picard cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose that's all then. I just stopped by to give you this..."

Extending his hand, he passed the Captain a PADD. Before Will could take it, however, the room lights blinked out, and Picard lurched forward, clutching the conference room table for support.

"Sir?" Will reached out to steady the other man, but he seemed beyond help. The scenario was eerily familiar and a woman's voice slammed into his consciousness...

---The top control will make them visible---

Thrusting his hand into his pocket, Riker extracted the small oval object he'd been given the night before, aimed it at Admiral Picard --- and fired. A loud hiss split the air between them, the dark-matter creature lit up like a flare, twisted in agony, and fell to the floor where it seemed to shimmer into cosmic-ash and vanish.

Taking a sweep around the room with the other setting, Riker lit up one more of the creatures, this one hanging on the ceiling at the opposite end of the enclosure. He took aim and fired, watching as it too fell to the floor and disintegrated.

Picard was on his knees now, his forehead covered in perspiration while he clutched the edge of the table, breathing heavily. He'd not been in contact with the thing nearly as long as Deanna had been however. And so Riker came forward to help the other man to his feet.

"Care to tell me what the hell is going on *now* Admiral? Or do we all have to die first?" He asked.

Picard settled into a conference chair nearby and stared forward, struggling to catch his breath.

"Water... please..." Picard requested, and Riker nodded, stepping outside the room to a nearby replicator where he called up the vital liquid and returned to hand it to his superior officer.

When he got back, however, the glass nearly fell from his hand. The conference room was empty, and the only door available for exit, had been the one he himself stepped through.

Picard had vanished. Just like the others. He had disappeared into thin air. Riker was sure of it.

"Damn it! What the hell is going on?!" He called out to no one in particular, throwing the glass at the wall where it shattered into a thousand tiny shards, spraying a fine mist across the room.

* * *

Chapter 33 "Kiss n' Tell"

"I'll be done in a minute, Beverly..." Troi called out to her friend and gathered up the last remnants of the collected chart material on her desk.

"Take your time..." Beverly quipped, entering Deanna's office and perusing her "wall of wonder". They all had one, the name had been coined by one of the senior medical staff members some years ago when it was realized that every doctor in prominent standing had to practically rent extra space to hang all of their artwork, shelve their books and display their accreditations. Some things hadn't changed in centuries. Crusher smiled.

"Hey... " Beverly turned around. "Why don't you have your Kandinski award on here?"

"Oh..." Troi shrugged. "Its ugly. And frankly, I like the dolphins better..." She gestured at the artwork which hung in a prominent position across from her desk. "Besides, I hate staring at holographic reminders that I've wasted half my career writing theoretical papers and probably won't ever have a social life at this point..."

At that, the other doctor grinned. "Ha! I saw the way you were looking at Captain Riker last night..."

When Troi blushed scarlet at the comment, Crusher added: "You *slept* with him?!"

"Beverly!" The younger woman gasped, but Crusher simply fell into one of her 'client' chairs with a sharp exhale.

"I knew it! I'm so jealous..." She moaned, choosing to ignore the incredulous gasp of her friend.

Troi's eyebrow rose.

"Well not jealous of you being with *him* --- all though he is really delicious, isn't he?"

She giggled when Deanna placed both hands on her hips.

"...I'm mostly jealous of you having sex in general. Okay well, I suppose if I have to, I can live vicariously. Details!" The doctor sat up in her chair.

"You're not getting any." Troi shook her head.

"Well duh. I thought I just said that... That's the whole point. That's why I need specifics..." Crusher agreed, well aware of what the younger woman had meant to begin with.

"Beverly, please..."

"Wait a minute. Didn't you tell me, not long ago in fact, that you'd decided not to sleep with men on a casual basis anymore? Some horribly logical argument I never did understand --- about wanting more from a relationship, falling in love..." Crusher trailed off and her eyes narrowed.

"I said that, yes." Deanna confirmed, suddenly very interested in the piles of chart material on her desk once again.

"Uh huh." After a further scrutinizing glance, Beverly suddenly grinned. "Really?" She whispered. "He's the one?"

Deanna didn't respond at first, but continued to organize her notes.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you!" She jumped from the chair. "Well, both of you, but are you sure?"

"You know..." Troi suddenly looked up and tossed her friend a wry, sharp look. "For someone who just inferred an entire *novel* out of absolutely *nothing* I've said, you're certainly confident you're right..."

"I am, aren't I?" Beverly continued to smile.

Suddenly, Deanna seemed to break. Dropping her note PADDs back onto her desk, she looked up. A dead give-away when she began chewing on her lower lip.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." Troi confirmed, finally smiling.

"...And I know, it's strange..." She continued. "I mean, I'm aware we haven't known each other for very long, but Beverly, when I'm with him it's like... it's--" She shook her head, at a loss for words.

"Magic? Chemistry? Fireworks? PASSION?" Crusher filled in helpfully.

"All of the above." The Counselor nodded coyly. "And more than that. We've talked -- a lot. There's a side of him that is so unlike what he projects to the rest of the world. I feel as though he knows *me* even better than -- well, you do -- or even than I know myself sometimes." She tossed her friend an apologetic look, but Crusher merely shrugged.

"...I feel as though we've known each other forever."

"Wow. It sounds like it really is the real thing." Beverly sighed. "But I want you to be careful, even so. Deanna you know I love you, I wish you all the happiness in the world. If this is real then I want you to grab hold of it and hang on tight. But just -- keep one eye open. At least for a while?"

With a slow exhale and a nod, Troi rounded her desk and came over to hug her friend.

"I will." She promised.

"Good." Crusher grinned. "And you know, a *few* details every once in a while wouldn't hurt either..."

"Bev!" Deanna slapped her arm playfully.

As the two women made their way out of Troi's office on the way to lunch, Beverly tried one last time:

"At least tell me if he's any good in bed?" She prodded.

With a sharp laugh, Deanna turned round to face her friend and continued to walk backwards. She didn't answer, but dipped her posture just a little, making a sound similar to those times when she'd enjoyed a particularly sinful chocolate confection. She tipped her head and rolled her eyes. Then she winked and returned forward, just in time to hear Crusher whine:

"Sooo jealous...!"

They exited the building.

* * *

Chapter 34 "In Troi We Trust" (Part I)

As they rounded the corner of the medical complex, Troi and Crusher suddenly found themselves face to face with one Captain Riker who appeared, even to the Doctor, to be decidedly upset.

Nearly slamming into the doctor, lost in his thoughts, Riker jumped backwards at the contact. Then raised his eyes, realizing who he'd managed to find.

"Will?" Deanna's voice was at first joyous, but quickly became concerned when she sensed his distress. "Will, you're a nervous wreck, what's wrong?"

"Deanna, I need to talk to you in private, it's very important." He implored, taking her hands in his.

"Okay--" She started, stepping forward when he tugged at her.

"Actually, I'd like to talk to both of you -- if you don't mind." He decided, including Beverly in his glance.

"Of course." Crusher affirmed. "Where?"

"Over there." He indicated an alcove between the buildings that was relatively small and completely unoccupied, glancing around in suspicion as he did so. "I can keep track better over there."

With identically quizzical expressions, both Beverly and Deanna turned and glanced at one another.

"There isn't much time, lets go..." He implored, already on his way to the alcove.

When they got there, Troi looked around in concern and confusion. "What's this about?" She asked.

"Shh..." He whispered. Lifting the small oval object he'd shown Deanna last night, Riker pressed it into his palm and shot a wide beam around the enclosed space.

Two grotesque dark-matter creatures suddenly appeared, sitting atop twin power couplers just outside of the complex structure.

Both Crusher and Troi exclaimed in surprise.

Without a second to breath, Riker fired on both aliens, watching until each shattered creature had disappeared into the earth. He then turned to his companions.

"That!" He spoke up. "Is what this is about."

"Was that... one of those things that attacked me?" Troi exhaled softly and Riker nodded.

"They're everywhere. I've killed twelve or thirteen just on my way over here from Command HQ. There must be hundreds of them or maybe even thousands down here."

"What are they?" Crusher asked, equally horrified.

"I don't know. That's what I intend to find out."

Pulling out her ever-present medical Tricorder, the doctor began to scan the area where the creatures had been sitting. With a troubled frown, she turned back to her companions.

"It looks as though whatever was sitting on these power couplers was some kind of 'dark-matter' mass. But as far as we've ever been aware..."

"There are no dark-matter life forms." Troi finished for her.

"Exactly."

Riker exhaled sharply. "Admiral Picard knows something about this. He ordered me not to talk about it, but under the circumstances... I think we need to inform Starfleet Command. I just don't get it!" He threw up a hand in frustration.

"...If there really are as many of them down here as that, why haven't they done anything? I mean, as far as I can tell they've attacked you," He turned to Deanna. "...and this morning, they attacked the Admiral..."

"Jean-Luc?" Beverly stepped forward. "Is he--?"

"He's fine." Riker nodded absently. "At least, I assume he's fine. He was fine when I killed the thing, but then I turned my back on him for a second and the next thing I knew he vanished. He's been vanishing and appearing into and out of thin air a lot lately." The Captain grumbled.

"I have to apologize for that, Will." At this new voice, they all turned. At first, there was no one there, but then Picard stepped forward -- from nothing.

With a quick glance at Beverly, he then fixed his eyes on Riker.

"I'm afraid I've been unable to explain." The Admiral frowned.

"Which would be my fault." Another voice. This time, a now familiar young woman with short dark hair and intense blue eyes stepped into their existence.

"That's her!" Riker exclaimed. "That's the woman I saw last night..."

In that moment, glancing first at the Admiral and then at the beautiful young woman who had just appeared, Deanna Troi wished she had a chair. Or at least something to hang onto which might ground her senses.

"Who *are* you?" Troi asked, this time fixing her gaze on the woman.

"My name is Rychelle." She answered simply.

"Are the two of you going to explain what's going on now? Or did you just drop by to demonstrate your disappearing act one final time? Because to be quite honest, I'm tired of the performance..." Riker growled.

To his surprise, Picard looked away from him, and locked eyes with Beverly Crusher instead. It was the oddest thing, because no sooner had he done so, than the Doctor seemed to nod. First very minutely, then visibly.

Picard placed his hand on Rychelle's shoulder and squeezed it gently. The 'younger' woman glanced first at the Doctor and then back at Picard for confirmation.

"Then it's done?" She whispered. At the Admiral's nod, she exclaimed in joy, jumping forward into his arms. "The bond!" She cried out. "Oh thank the gods...! Then the mission is at an end. We need only seal the rift..."

"What?" Troi, who had watched the interplay between Picard and Crusher in complete confusion, suddenly spoke out. "Beverly? 'The bond'? You can't mean--"

"I'm sorry, Deanna..." Crusher began.

"You tricked me? All that time, you were pumping me for information, I thought you were just being -- being ---" She backed away from the woman she had called her best friend for several years, shaking her head. "How could you trick me like that? What kind of a game is this?"

"Believe me, I'd *love* to hear the answer to that question." Riker frowned, placing his hand on Deanna's arm.

"Don't touch me!" She rounded on him. "Were you in on this as well?"

"What?" Will recoiled in confusion. "No! Deanna, this is as much a mystery to me as it is to you..."

"Counselor... please." Rychelle stepped forward, having sobered from her earlier jubilation. "What Captain Riker says is true. Neither you nor he had any idea of what was to transpire. We kept you both ignorant of the circumstances. On purpose, I'm afraid."

Troi's eyes narrowed at the other woman. "I can't sense anything from you. How are you doing that?"

"I'm afraid it's second nature for me. Please, try again." This time she cleared her thoughts and allowed the Counselor access. It seemed to satisfy Deanna somewhat, for though she frowned, she finally nodded in acquiescence.

"You're Betazoid." Troi then stated, matter-o-factly. "Something about you is so familiar to me..."

Again, Rychelle nodded. "I want you to understand that your Doctor Crusher also had no idea about me or what we were trying to do. What she did, she did as a favor to Admiral Picard. We gave him permission to offer her only the barest of information. Only enough so that she might see the gravity of the situation and allow us to compromise a friendship which we are very aware she values a great deal. I would hope that you value that friendship strongly enough to forgive what we have asked of her. For when I show you the scope of what we face together, we will -- all of us - need to form an alliance."

For a moment, Troi said nothing, glancing up at Beverly only briefly. She saw the Doctor's look of resignation, but could not speak to her.

"Do I take that to mean, then..." Riker interjected. "That you're about ready to let us in on the secret, Rychelle? Thanks to your little gift..." Riker held up the small oval phaser. "I've managed to dispatch twelve more of those creatures today, including one that almost killed the Admiral. I have a hunch they're probably all over this planet by now if my cursory scans this morning are any indication. We're all about to go to Hell, aren't we?"

"I'm afraid, Captain..." Rychelle began slowly, affording each of her new companions a glance. "That we are already there."

* * *

Chapter 35 "In Troi we Trust" (Part II)

"Wow..." Deanna Troi wasn't the only one to gasp in awe at the sight of the bridge before her. Both Will Riker and Doctor Beverly Crusher sported equally flabbergasted expressions. They had been transported from the planet's surface only moments earlier --- with the promise of full disclosure. But none of them could have been prepared for what they found...

"This..." Said Admiral Picard proudly, gesturing around the center of activity for the ship. "Is the future of the Federation."

With a knowing smile, Rychelle added:

"You are all welcome aboard the USS Enterprise-L"

"The-what? The Enterprise?" Riker's gaze flew forward, re-examining the command center before him.

"I've never seen anything like it..." Troi turned where she stood, watching as the oval enclosure seemed almost to grow the farther around she went.

None of the equipment stood near any of the outer walls. Instead, a circular pattern of free standing consoles peppered the entire room and a host of crew members numbering at least twenty five or more, by Riker's count, stood monitoring their stations.

"I don't see a view screen..." The Captain commented, glancing appreciatively at the floor-plan.

"Ah." Rychelle smiled. "Watch." With a gesture to one of the crewmen, she ordered. "On screen, ensign."

A moment later, the entire enclosure shimmered around them. The walls disappeared and it appeared as though they were standing on a platform --- among the stars. All around them, no matter where they turned, the formerly opaque barriers of the bridge had disappeared, leaving an observatory the likes of which none of them had ever witnessed before.

With a collective sigh, Will, Deanna and Beverly cast their eyes upwards, as the presence of the planet Earth --- glowing in ethereal majesty --- seemed to occupy one half of their field of view.

From every direction, shuttle craft and small carrier vessels sped to and from their destinations, seemingly heedless of the massive ship in orbit.

"They can't see us, can they?" Riker turned his question to Rychelle.

"No." She confirmed. "We are not entirely within your time stream. And neither are the dark-matter creatures. That differential is what cloaks their visibility to your sensors. We can only track them in this inner-space."

"So am I to take it then that you're the Captain of this vessel?" Will pressed.

She shook her head. "Not precisely. In point of fact, I am--"

"Seyerra! They've detected us! " A man with the rank of lieutenant etched into his uniform called out.

"Evasive maneuvers, lieutenant..." She spun around. "Get us behind the sun. That should buy us perhaps another few minutes before they realize their intended targets are no longer on the planet's surface..."

Just then, the scene around the Enterprise shifted quickly as the ship turned hard to port and shot forward towards the sun. Within a heart beat they had crossed the entire distance.

A remark from one of the other ensigns at the con indicated that they had established a low orbit within the corona just above the roiling surface of the Earth's sun. Riker couldn't help but look on in awe at how quickly the entire series of events had taken place. Even on board any of the current Galaxy Class starships, such a maneuver would have taken nearly three times longer.

"Seyerra… That's a Betazoid term " Deanna picked up on their previous conversation.

"Please." Seyerra sighed. "We have little time. I have much to explain to you and it's important that you understand. If we cannot destroy the alien parent vessel and seal the rift in time through which they came -- everything we've accomplished will be for naught."

Turning to Deanna, she continued. "This isn't the first intentional damage they have affected upon your time stream which has altered the lives of both yourself and the Captain..."

*

"...Though it may seem difficult to grasp how your two single lives might impact upon such a larger reality right now, what we do, we do for the future of the Federation. For all of our worlds."

When Rychelle finished speaking, Will Riker and Deanna Troi were both staring at her, dumbfounded. Doctor Crusher stood next to the Admiral and Guinan had come up to stand behind her charge.

"Gods..." Deanna breathed, turning away momentarily. "This is ... so much to take in."

"I realize how it must sound. Keep in mind that the Admiral and the Doctor, to some extent, have had a little longer to get used to the idea. But it is true." Her blue eyes implored them to understand. "All of it."

"So then you are--" Will swallowed and glanced at Troi. "Our --daughter's -- daughter?"

Seyerra nodded. "My mother is your oldest child."

"Oldest?" Riker nearly choked. "How many children do we have?"

"Two. One boy, one girl. A boy who carries his paternal name proudly, and a girl, my mother, who carries her own mother's titles in the tradition of Betazed."

At this, Deanna turned and faced them all once more. For a short time she merely regarded Rychelle unblinkingly. "I can see it now." She finally whispered, glancing first at the young woman before her and then at Captain Riker. "That's what was so familiar. You two look-- " She watched them both. "A lot alike."

"Really?" Rychelle beamed. And it appeared almost out of character to her earlier command of the situation.

"But you definitely have Deanna's eyes." Riker found himself adding.

For a moment, the Counselor's eyes locked with the Captain's.

"I wish we could continue this conversation." Seyerra suddenly interrupted their moment. "But in about ten minutes, we're all going to be fish-bait if we don't act quickly."

This time, Riker couldn't help but grin. "Fish-bait? I always say that..."

"I know." Rychelle nodded emphatically. "My mother drove me crazy growing up. Now I suppose it's her revenge that I forget myself every once in a while and use it too."

"Nine minutes, Seyerra..." Guinan's voice reminded her.

"Get on those co-ordinates, G'eyna." Rychelle ordered, and to Picard's absolute shock, Guinan inclined her head respectfully and proceeded to a cluster of stations behind them without further comment.

"Counselor..." The younger Troi turned. "I'm going to need your help once we find the rift."

Deanna nodded. "Of course."

"We believe that if we can destroy the parent vessel, the creatures on the planet's surface will die." Seyerra began, in explanation.

"...That was our experience in the war, at least. Having said that, this vessel is unlike any other we have ever encountered. It is nearly twice our size and far out-classes us in armament. If we engage it in a battle head on, we will be destroyed."

The Counselor opened her mouth as though to speak, but was belayed by the other woman's hand.

"There is a tactical fault which we may be able to take advantage of, however. These beings see differently than we do. They detect their targets by virtue of a unique energy signature which each source of power emits. On a ship such as this, there are literally hundreds of thousands..."

She paused to punctuate her point.

"That is why we were forced to develop technology which could dampen those signatures effectively. And we were able to. Every source of artificial power on board this ship can be rendered effectively invisible to their tracking systems. The only problem with that, however, is that while our vessels might sail through enemy space unnoticed..."

"The crew..." Deanna suddenly murmured.

"Exactly." Seyerra regarded the matriarch of her family seriously. "As of now, we have yet to discover an effective means of shielding the 'life-force' energy of the crew members on board our vessels. They detect us every time. It may take them longer, but in the end, they always find us." She clasped her hands in front of her.

"What I don't understand," said Troi shaking her head. "Is why they didn't just destroy the entire planet at once. Why only come after us? They could have wiped us all out in moments if what you say is true..."

"Perhaps." Rychelle confirmed. "But if they'd done that, they would have been unable to extract the resources of those planets which they already had done in your future --- my present."

"...The primary forms of technology they feed off of exist in abundance where and when -- I come from. Were they to destroy your world in this time, they would lose the opportunity to take us by surprise. They would also forfeit the very treasure which they seek. And so you see, they cannot afford to make any mistakes. Just as we cannot."

"...Kill either or both of the two of you in secrecy, and they will win the war of the future. Destroy your entire planet in the past, and they will never have the opportunity to extract their prize in my present."

"I think I'm getting dizzy." Doctor Crusher sighed.

"Your confusion is understandable, Doctor." Seyerra replied.

"Our secret weapon is that I have a special talent." She continued. "Beyond making people dizzy." Tossing Crusher a warm smile, she continued. "I'm a little like a focal point for the energy of the soul. I can sense it, I can channel it and more importantly I can shield it. But I'm afraid I have not the strength of power in my own right to shield more than a handful of people at a time. That," She fixed her gaze on Deanna. "...is where you come in. You might think of me as a --- psychic flashlight, without a large enough battery."

"I have those co-ordinates, Seyerra." Guinan's voice interrupted. "242 mark 9." When Seyerra glanced up at her in surprise, the El'Aurian nodded and continued. "The parent ship --- it *is* the gate."

"G'eyna, you are a miracle worker!" Rychelle clasped her hands before her. "... I'm going to need for you to be my battery, Counselor. Will you help?"

"As a source of power?" Deanna was taken aback. "You know that I'll do anything I can to help, but as you should also know, I'm only half Betazoid..."

"Half Betazoid, but still the daughter of the most powerful Betazoid telepath in Federation history." The young woman stepped forward and placed her hands over the Counselor's. "We aren't counting on telepathic prowess, here. The kind of power I require has everything to do with your life-force and nothing to do with whether or not you are able to read the thoughts of others. ...Though you may not know it, Counselor; though your people may not know it, nor have use for it in this century, you hold enough psychic energy within you to be considered -- a firecracker waiting to go off. I need to tap into that energy. If I can keep that ship from detecting our exact location, or targeting us with it's weapons systems, we may be able to fire on it for long enough so that it would be destroyed."

For a second, Deanna regarded the other woman. "You know, I'm really having a hard time visualizing you as my *grandchild*." She shook her head and then finally nodded. "Of course... whatever you need. Just tell me what to do."

"Thank you." Seyerra lifted one of the Counselor's hands in hers and closed her fingers over it. "Whatever happens..." She whispered. "Maintain contact with me. Don't let go. And open your mind. Clear it of all other thoughts..."

Rychelle shut her eyes.

"If this doesn't work..." She called out to the crew on the bridge. "It was an honor serving with all of you..."

"Wait a second..." Riker's voice cut in. "What do you mean, if this doesn't work? I thought you just said it *would* work..."

"I said," She repeated. "...that I have only the ability to shield a few people at once. I've never tried anything this large before. Nor have we ever seen a ship like the one that hovers over Earth right now... In theory, I should be able to--"

"In theory?" Will shook his head. "With all due respect, do you have a backup plan in case your 'theory' doesn't pan out?"

"Stand down, Captain." The Admiral suddenly interrupted. "Seyerra has been leading her people for longer than you have been alive."

That got his attention. For whatever reason, Rychelle had neglected to mention that particular point. His eyes widened in shock.

"She what? She can't be more than..."

"Fifty-seven years old." Seyerra opened her eyes and cut in, impatiently. "Now, we don't have time for this! Captain, I need you to navigate. Take the con from Ensign R'ten. You'll find that aside from a few new bells and whistles, it functions very similarly to the one you're already used to." With a flip of her hand, she dismissed the ensign and Captain Riker took her place somewhat dubiously.

"In about a minute, we're going to be flying into the pathway of well over a thousand smaller vessels. I need a pilot who can flip this ship on its belly and fly an evasion course in and out of their midst faster than most of my younger con officers can anticipate. That's you, Captain. Everything which I just mentioned is going to occur before we ever make it to the parent ship. I need you to get us there intact. We need to stay at least one kilometer away from any of those vessels. Any closer than that, and our dampening technology becomes iffy at best. Understood?"

When he hadn't responded, she repeated.

"*Understood*, Captain?"

"Yes ma'am." He nodded shortly and then mumbled. "Although one of these days, I think I'm going to have to talk to your mother about this incident..."

Seyerra only smiled at that. "Don't let go." Was all she said to Deanna before she closed her eyes once more.

"Take us in, Captain... impulse only." She ordered, and for the first time since he'd met her, Will Riker obeyed without a question.

*

:::You're doing well::: Deanna heard the younger woman's voice inside her head.

:::You have a great deal of mental discipline. Just keep your mind clear, regardless of what goes on around us:::

:::I understand:::: The Counselor responded, washing away their surroundings as she had so many times before back on Betazed in the earlier years of her training.

Seyerra squeezed her hand and with a gasp, Deanna felt a jolt of what might have been described as 'electricity' flow through her. The other woman's body stiffened and she spoke:

"The block is in place. But I feel them. Everywhere. Hard to port, Captain. 242 mark 5."

The Federation ship turned hard to port and a wide-band sensor sweep shot out from just beneath the primary deflector grid.

An instant later, Will Riker found himself in the greatest obstacle course flight of his entire career. Even navigating the Rinnean asteroid field, filled with deadly hurtling rocks (some the size of small moons) had nothing on this. There were probably hundreds of thousands of ships -- comparatively tiny vessels, lit up like fire-flies in the atmosphere over Earth. They seemed to form an almost grid-like pattern.

"Hang on, this might be a bit of a bumpy ride..." Riker gritted through his teeth as the shimmering view-port which surrounded the bridge suddenly reflected the presence of the first of these ships. "She handles like a fighter not a battle ship..." He grunted, commenting to himself as he threw the ship in still another direction, altering course more quickly than even he would have anticipated such a ship could travel "...A really *big* fighter."

Several of the younger ensigns, now standing off to one side of the bridge, regarded the Captain with no small measure of awe as the Enterprise-L dipped back and forth through the mesh-work of vessels without breaching the distance barrier.

Will's hands flew over the con, compensating in a hundred different ways for the variations on pattern which kept the ship constantly correcting for inertia and trajectory.

"Damn it!" He suddenly swore. "Where the hell did they come from?"

Out of nowhere, four of the smaller ships suddenly broke free in what appeared to be a random reassignment which couldn't have been more unfortunate for the Enterprise. Though he scrambled to pull their pathway from the oncoming (and blind) approach of the foursome, one of the ships was hopelessly close; too close.

It slammed into the shields of the Enterprise less than a second later, sending the entire ship into a tilt at the unexpected hit.

In the center of the bridge, where Rychelle and Deanna now stood hand in hand, both women were tossed to one side, and though she scrambled to keep her word, the Counselor felt her hand slide helplessly from Seyerra's, beyond her control.

At the loss of contact, Rychelle cried out in pain, stumbling to her knees. With a desperate lunge forward, Troi reached for her granddaughter and grabbed hold of her hand once more. Renewing their connection, Deanna felt the younger woman's breathing begin to calm, though she remained where she had fallen -- concentration apparent in her features.

From all around them, scores of tiny vessels began to break free of the pattern. They were now aware of a breach in their security, but it appeared as though they were still blind to the presence of the Federation ship in their midst.

Scattering like a nest of hornets disturbed, the smaller ships began to take off in every direction, searching for their intruder. With the practice of a veteran pilot, Will Riker pressed forward toward the mother ship. Weaving in and out of their confused flight paths, he took advantage of their momentary lapse in organization.

"I have a good lock on the parent vessel!" L'Tar called out from the other side of the bridge.

"Fire." Guinan's voice intoned.

With the tap of a control before her, L'Tar looked up as a new kind of light source shot forth from the Enterprise and slammed directly into one of the largest and strangest starships Riker had ever seen.

"Keep flying, Captain! Get closer. We'll take care of the rest. We can't give them time to regroup or get a lock on us." The El'Aurian stepped forward and whispered something to L'Tar who nodded curtly. She began tapping something into her station.

When he was almost upon the larger vessel, headed towards it at a kamikaze rate of speed, Riker suddenly rolled the Enterprise on its edge, slipping around and behind the monolithic craft. They were so close that the edge of their shields whizzed past the other ship's outer hull, while the Enterprise's tactical chief of security maintained a continuous firing pattern.

Searching for its nemesis, twin beams of light shot forth from the parent ship, sending a blinding flash arcing just beyond the Federation Starship's starboard nes-cell. With a quick correction, Riker banked in still another direction, winding through space at velocities he had only ever dreamed of in the past.

Their enemy continued firing.

"Not this time you bastards." Will growled, circling back. "Not this time, and not ever again..."

Shifting mid-flight, the Enterprise-L drove downward as Will punched it in reverse and then tipped hard to port several hundred kilometers 'below' the alien vessel.

Inputting a calculated course change which caused L'Tar to glance up from her station and nod in approval -- the Captain tapped something quickly into his console.

"Welcome to Federation space..." Riker muttered as the Enterprise's inertial dampers came fully on-line and he tipped the ship on it's end, pointing it directly at the vulnerable underbelly of their enemy.

With one final command, the "L" shot forward, randomly correcting for destination as it wove in and out of enemy fire.

They neared the great ship -- closer and closer. Their weapons fire seemed as though it were being absorbed within the monster's hull. Still, they pushed forward. Kilometer after kilometer ticked by until they were almost upon it -- literally driving their weapons into its heart -- their own shields flashing with the glancing impacts of each counter weapons attack.

Deanna clung to her granddaughter but Rychelle seemed oblivious, staring straight ahead in a manner which betrayed her intense focus. Her body rocked backwards against the Counselor's as the empath struggled to maintain a precarious balance for both of them.

An instant later, two Ensigns on the bridge cried out, suddenly certain that they would hit...

And then they did hit. The edge of their shield slammed against the other vessel's hull with punishing force. Several members of the bridge crew fell backwards, skidding across the surface of the floor beneath their feet and tumbling into bulkheads.

For a moment in time, Riker was certain they would all be killed. That his calculations had been off, somehow. It didn't make any sense… but here they were, instants away from oblivion. There wasn't even time to say goodbye … With eyes locked forward, the Captain clutched the con and braced for the final impact.

Only it never came.

In the penultimate instant, as the force of their energy weapon continued to pulse against their enemy's hull -- the other vessel exploded.

Without fire or flames or combustion of any kind, the dark-matter ship seemed to shatter into a billion points of paradoxically shimmering blackness -- all around them -- scattering into space like cosmic confetti as the Enterprise-L shot forth through a haze of tumbling debris.

* * *

Like tiny luminescent insects, the smaller ships began to wink out. First in clusters, then pairs and finally one by one; caving in upon themselves until the Enterprise's sensor sweep revealed that there was nothing more.

Only the solace of the Earth remained in their view port, rising in majesty behind the silent forms of the oblivious Starfleet vessels; all carrying on about their business, as though there hadn't been a war just fought and won in their backyard.

With a collective sigh, the bridge crew of the Enterprise-L fell back into their chairs or drew themselves up from where they had fallen at their posts. A murmur of awe rose up among them, perhaps still somewhat disbelieving of their eyes.

It was over. It was finally over. Now, there was cause for celebration.

But before the first of them could offer up his voice in gratitude, Counselor Troi called out for her friend, instead.

"Beverly! Come quickly..."

All eyes turned towards the center of their bridge where the older Troi sat, cradling the unmoving form of her granddaughter on her lap.

Affording the Doctor a stricken expression such as Crusher had never witnessed on her friend before, Beverly heard the Counselor whisper:

"I think she's dying..."

* * *

Chapter 36 "Now and Then"

"How is she?" Deanna asked, standing a few feet away from a bio-bed, nestled within the sick-bay of the Enterprise-L.

"I've stabilized her." The ship's doctor responded. "But she took the combined energy of over two thousand people through her body for a time. The ramifications of that, I can't even begin to predict..." He sighed. "You can see her for a while. I'll be in my office." Withdrawing from the room, the doctor left the two women alone.

At this, Deanna moved forward until she was able to look down upon the motionless form of her grandchild. Her eyes filled. "I tried to hold on…" She whispered. "You held my hands so tightly but in that moment, I felt them rip you from me." Placing her fingers against the other woman's forehead, she took the seat next to her bed.

For a time, Troi allowed the silence her mind to creep forward; granting access to that portion of herself which she normally kept hidden.

"I'm so sorry..." She whispered sorrowfully.

And that was when she felt it.

Glancing up in confusion at first, her hand stole to a small pocket within her uniform jacket and her fingers wrapped around the smooth, now-warm stone which Will had given to her at the duck pond.

When she pulled it forth, she was not surprised to see that it was glowing softly; a light barely visible within the already luminous ambiance of sick-bay.

"I bet you would know something about this..." The Counselor let her gaze rest upon Seyerra.

"My people call it a 'soul stone'". A woman's voice interrupted her thoughts.... Deanna turned to face the mysterious dark skinned El'Aurian...

"So I've heard..."

"Did you also hear that it responds only to the convergence of energy specific to a union of soulmates…"

Deanna's eyes expressed that she had not.

"As you have already discovered for yourself, Counselor, both you and Captain Riker share a special truth. I've lived for many centuries--I've seen a great many things--but none as beautiful as what this tiny stone can reveal." Guinan's voice grew softer.

"But can it save her life?" The two women held eye contact, and then Guinan came forward, placing her arms around the empath. Her answer remained unspoken.

"She idolizes you, you know." The El'Aurian said simply. And the Counselor allowed her tears to fall.

Guinan drew away from the young empath and regarded her seriously before she continued.

"We cannot second guess our fate. Any of us. She draws strength from her passion for life, just as you do. It is that strength which sustains her, even now."

"This is my fault…" Deanna whispered. And then she too stepped back. Taking the stone into her hand, she gently opened the fingers of her unmoving grandchild and placed her precious cargo within their weak grasp, closing Seyerra's hand around it.

"Deanna..." It was Beverly's voice this time. She entered the room followed by Will and the Admiral.

"I couldn't hang on..." Troi's tear-filled eyes met those of her friend, and other woman stepped forward, gathering the Counselor into her arms.

"It wasn't your fault." She whispered. "The impact was too strong. You couldn't have known..."

"The doctor says that she's stabilized." This time it was the Admiral who spoke. Though it was clear as he looked down upon the young woman in the bed, that he too had been desperately afraid for her life. "She is a fighter like her mother, and her mother's mother. She'll pull through this."

"I don't know how she did it." Deanna recounted. "It must have been overwhelming for her...but she kept her concentration..."

"The Counselor's hand went gently to the younger woman's hair and she smiled down at her through her tears. In that moment, she truly looked the proud parent.

Riker came to stand beside her. "She was incredible."

"She saved all of us." Troi whispered. "And so did you..." She turned to Will.

Only Guinan remained silent, watching from just behind the group, her eyes cast over each of them.

"What now remains..." The El'Aurian finally spoke out. "Is for us to set the final pieces of this puzzle. To make things right, again."

When they turned to her, she folded her hands before her.

"It's time for all of you to go home." Her voice was soft.

"You're going to wipe our memories, aren't you?" Doctor Crusher asked.

"What has been, will be." She quoted. "You cannot retain these memories. You cannot know what is to come, or everything we've managed today will have been in vain."

Deanna glanced down at Rychelle, sleeping peacefully in the bio-bed next to her, and then she nodded.

"You're right... but can we wait a little while? At least until we know she's going to be okay?" With a glance at her 'grandchild', the Counselor then fixed her gaze on Guinan, who shook her head.

"She--" The older woman began. "...will be born of the love of two wonderful people. She will know laughter and joy even in the darkest moments of a war. She will grow up and become a light of hope for a thousand worlds. She will be what she was destined to be, Counselor -- And you, I'm afraid, must set forth on your own path before any of that may happen."

Deanna Troi sighed sadly. She took one final look at the woman who had come to represent so much to so many, including herself. Then, leaning downward, she placed her lips on Seyerra's forehead and whispered something distinctly Betazoid into the younger woman's ear.

When she rose once more, her eyes were bright and she inclined her head. "I'm ready."

Will Riker took her hand in his and pulled her gently towards him.

"I think we all are."

* * *

Chapter 37 "Of Darkness and Light"

When the others had gone, Picard found himself the last of them still lurking on board the Enterprise-L. He came to stand behind Rychelle just outside the corridor which adjoined the starship's critical care suite.

From the moment she'd awoken, her first desire had been to extricate herself from sick-bay. The Admiral had almost smiled to himself. Will Riker was precisely the same way.

"It is--" He began, placing his hands atop her shoulders while she gazed out of a portal, into space. "...a very brave thing you did for all of us, today."

She turned just then and smiled at him. A smile which made him wish perhaps he might have been born -- just two hundred years later.

Though her face remained somewhat drawn from the ordeal, she was as beautiful as ever. Such a thing hardly surprised the Admiral anymore, however, for the most profound impact of her beauty which -- he'd already surmised -- came from within.

"It will take some time." Seyerra began, glancing down at the tiny obsidian stone which she held in her hand as though it were a precious jewel. It was glowing, Picard noticed.

"I believe in my heart that the Federation may now begin to rebuild, some of what we have lost. In the end, we have indeed gained a great deal... We have you to thank for that as well, Admiral."

With a thoughtful smile, Picard placed his hand gently against her face.

"I'm going to miss you, Seyerra."

"Please." She smiled the tired smile of one who'd been through a great deal. "Call me Rychelle -- after all this time."

"Rychelle." He amended. "And what's a little 'time' to a traveler such as yourself."

For a moment, she merely regarded him strangely, but before he might question her of it, the young woman came forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him soundly. "I'm going to miss you too. All of you."

When she stepped away again, Picard sighed. "Perhaps someday -- we will meet again."

"Perhaps." Her face took on a far-distant expression. She reached for his arm. "Go with fortune, M'hal."

"And you." He returned the ancient El'Aurian greeting.

Stepping backward into the room where he was well aware they would selectively eliminate his memories of certain instants in these past few weeks forever, Picard felt the conflict of a man torn between two 'truths'. But when he glanced up at Rychelle and found her expression at once both understanding and entreating, he knew that she was right.

"Your future awaits you, Admiral." Were her last words to him. Words which would soon be washed away.

* * *

"I feel so tired, G'eyna."

When Guinan found the younger woman, she was sitting in the anteroom of her quarters, her head set softly against a shimmering view portal.

"You should rest." The El'Aurian admonished

"Oh, perhaps for a while. A little while." She let the woman who had been her closest confidant for many years help her to stand, and then assist her to the bed.

Once she lay her head down, Guinan sat with her on the edge of the bed, noticing the soft luminance which trickled through the fingertips of one of her hands.

"All my life I dreamed of this day..." Rychelle whispered softly.

"What has been, will be. You made it so. We all knew that you would."

"She was so beautiful, wasn't she?" The younger woman turned her large, dark-blue gaze on Guinan.

"And so are you. Though you never seem to see it."

"Ahh..." Seyerra sucked in breath as though to laugh, but coughed instead. "And him... they really are perfect." Her voice grew quiet. "Not perfect for the Universe or perfect for the Federation, I meant -- just perfect for me."

"Yes." The El'Aurian nodded, placing her hand against Seyerra's brow. "Just as you are perfect for your mother and shall be perfect for your nieces and nephews too."

Her eyes closed slowly and Rychelle reached out for the older woman's hand, which Guinan provided, sliding her fingers within the younger woman's grasp.

"It's dark. G'eyna" Seyerra whispered.

"It is always dark, in the beginning."

"Then I shall see you again." Rychelle affirmed, though her voice was barely a breath.

"Again and again. Until the end of time."

"Yes..."

Guinan watched then, as the Betazoid smiled ever so slightly.

"What has been, will be..." Her lips were barely parted when she exhaled one more breath.

She did not take another.

As her hand relaxed, it let go its precious cargo. The tiny glowing stone slipped from her fingertips, and tumbled to the floor where its surface flickered brightly; a flash of brilliant light as though to signify the most beautiful union. And then it grew dark ... and cold.

Only then did the El'Aurian drop her head; only then did she fall forward and place the edge of her face against the breast of her unmoving charge. Only then -- for the first time in over two centuries --- did she allow the tears to fall.

* * *

Chapter 38 "We'll always have Paris" (Part I)

"Counselor?" A young ensign practically tripped over himself in the doorway to her office.

She looked up. "Yes?"

"Uh, Admiral Picard is here. He's here to see you..."

"All right ensign, please give me three minutes or so to finish up here and then send him in?" With a smile and a nod she dismissed the young officer and then proceeded to pack up her desk for the day.

It had been quite an ordeal, all in all. From the moment they'd all awoken this morning to discover that even greater portions of their short term memory had been carefully replaced, things had grown stranger and stranger.

This time, apart from herself and Captain Riker, whoever had done this to them had also included Doctor Crusher and Admiral Picard in their latest 'attack'.

The frustrating part, of course, was that they were still no closer today to finding out how or why the events had occurred then they had been earlier.

With a short exhale, Troi uncovered the last of the PADDs she would need to take with her.

"Is this a bad time, Counselor?" A voice from her doorway indicated that her three minutes were up, and she rose from her seat.

"Not at all, Admiral. Please, come in. How can I help you?"

"I received your recommendation..." He began. "The individual you suggested best qualified to take on the position of head Counselor aboard the Enterprise.... A young woman -- Daniels? Davis?..."

"Darrel... Lieutenant Commander Darrel." Troi offered.

"Yes, well, I must say she has extraordinary qualifications. We've already approved her, of course. Thank you."

With a short glance downward, Deanna nodded. "I'm sure she'll make a fine addition to the crew."

"I'm certain she will." He regarded her for a moment before holding up a PADD he had held under his arm. "I'm afraid I'm also the bearer of some rather un-exciting news." He quipped dryly.

"...You've been selected to represent Starfleet Medical in the audience at a symposium in Paris this week. More than likely a bunch of long talks on deep-space exploration, crew and command structure, etc, etc. Since you've been lobbying for greater awareness on of crew morale on deep space missions, the Council thought you might be the best candidate to go this time around. I'm certain you'll have a lot to say on the matter since there will be question and answer with all of the keynote speakers."

With that, he handed her the PADD and she scanned it before raising her gaze to his.

"Oh..." She sighed. "It's not that I don't adore Paris, and I know I should be grateful for the consideration, but right now I really can't afford the time..."

Though Picard did nod in understanding, he had to shrug. "Well, I suppose you'll have to consider it an unfortunate circumstance of duty this time around."

With a grunt of frustration, she placed the PADD into her stack and then gathered the entire thing into her arms.

"Oh and Counselor, one more thing..." This time, Picard's voice became serious. "...Something of a point of interest, perhaps." He cleared his throat as though unsure of how to proceed.

"The... um... the Enterprise has just received orders that their departure will be ahead of schedule. She's been slotted to leave Earth's space-dock in just over 48 hours."

When her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach, Troi set the stack of PADDs back onto her desk.

"Really." She whispered.

"I imagine Captain Riker must have only just received word himself. I thought--" He cleared his throat again. "Since you'd expressed interest in the -- the -- well being of that ship's crew -- you might like to know."

"Thank you. Yes, I -- thank you." She swallowed, taking her seat once more.

With that, the Admiral nodded. "Well, I'd better be going. I have a meeting to attend. Have a good evening, Counselor." He turned and hurried rather uneasily from her office.

When he was gone, Troi placed her hands atop her desk and gazed out into space.

The Enterprise -- gone --- in just two days. She glanced up at the holographic dolphins playing innocently on her wall. Somehow, in her eyes, their world had just become far, far, smaller...

* * *

In the tiny utilitarian room which had been temporarily transformed into Will Riker's office at Starfleet Headquarters, the newly commissioned Captain sat in his chair going over a PADD of notes.

He was to speak at a symposium this evening. And something about speaking in public always made him nervous. Though he'd done it a hundred times before and felt no actual fear while he stood at any podium -- somehow, just knowing that such an event was "on the way" was usually enough to set his stomach into knots despite every rational argument to the contrary.

Of course, he'd never admitted that to anyone. No, to all who watched him perform, it would appear as it always had. That William T. Riker knew exactly who he was, and what he was talking about. His secret weapon: A well crafted, manufactured sense of confidence which, if he were to analyze it, had probably been the source of most of his genuine confidence for a great portion of his lifetime. Tell yourself that you can do anything for long enough, after all, and you started to believe it.

With a sigh of frustration at his apparent inability to concentrate this afternoon, Riker scrolled back through the text and was about to repeat his rehearsal when he noticed the blinking COMM light on his desk. It was a text-only message encoded from Command HQ --- someplace within this very building.

He tapped the author stamp and watched as a body of writing appeared on his console. Quickly skimming over its contents, he blinked in surprise. Then read it again.

At first, his impulse was to jump for joy at the unexpected news, but that impulse lived only a short life. A moment later, he found himself starring bleakly at his desk instead.

Rising very slowly from his seat, Captain Riker made his way across the room and stood at the window.

Several months ago -- hell, several *weeks* ago -- this would have been the most incredible news he had ever received. But today...?

Today it twisted a knot inside of his chest so filled with conflict that it threatened to consume his soul...

* * *

Chapter 39 "We'll always have Paris" (Part II)

Sitting aboard the personnel transport vessel "Aristotle", Riker was anxious. He'd tried to contact Deanna three times this evening, hoping to catch her before he had to fly overseas -- a trip that would take just under an hour, but which would place them an ocean apart nonetheless.

He imagined she hadn't been wearing her COMM badge, and since she hadn't answered any of his direct communications to her apartment, either - he had been forced to board his flight without saying goodbye.

With a rueful sigh and a glance out of the window next to him, some small portion of his mind chided him for the way he'd been feeling. The way he'd allowed his whole world to change this way... so that he couldn't even take the best news of his career without it carving a hollow empty spot into his chest cavity.

In defiance of that voice, he finally whispered to no one in particular. "I miss you, already."

"Is this seat taken?"

His eyes flew upward, unbelieving, uncomprehending at first. A moment ago she'd been all he could think about, and now --- here she was. Standing in the aisle next to him. Quite suddenly, that 'hollow spot' filled right back up again -- all by itself.

"Well, I was saving it." He demurred, very casually.

"Oh, really?" Her voice teased.

"Yeah. I took a vow when I was three." He shrugged. "I only sit next to women I'm completely in love with."

"Oh, well in that case--" She nodded as though it were the most common thing in the world for him to have said. And she turned, beginning to move farther down the aisle.

That was when he grabbed her. With a short squeal of surprise from her direction, Riker pulled her down onto the bench next to him -- half onto his lap.

"Which means I've been sitting alone most of my life..." He whispered, his face a mere breath away from hers.

"Not anymore." She answered back.

He kissed her.

A moment later, she pulled back. "Wait a minute, what do you mean 'most of your life'?"

At her remark, he lifted his shoulders. "Well, before I was three, there was still my mother... don't you psychologist types like hearing about that mother/son attachment thing?"

Deanna laughed airily. "Uh huh."

"I didn't know you would be here." Riker finally managed. "I tried calling... a few times."

"It was sort of... last minute." Troi tipped her head. "I got orders to attend the symposium and, to be honest, I didn't know you'd be here either. You didn't answer your COMM."

With a lopsided smile, Riker shook his head. "Gotta love modern technology. A billion ways to communicate and we still can't get in touch..."

"Oh, I think we're doing all right..." She whispered coyly, and then linked her arms around his neck, stroking his hair.

Riker sighed. "I missed you today. It's been a long afternoon."

"For me as well." She suddenly looked down.

"Dee... there's something I need to tell you." His voice sobered.

"I know." She nodded sadly.

"But not here. Not like this... when we get to the city, after the lecture. Lets have dinner?"

She raised her gaze to his. "Lets..." She whispered, and then lay her head against his shoulder as the ship began to move in preparation for their short flight.

* * *

Will Riker stared nervously out over the crowd assembled before him. Normally, he might have expected Admirals and Ambassadors, dignitaries as well as handfuls of 'special' Starfleet personnel in such a gathering.

Today, however, there was someone even more important in the audience. His eyes locked with Troi's -- and she smiled, but then looked away as though trying not to draw suspicion to their connection in such an obvious way.

Collecting his thoughts, he finally began to speak. His talk was to be on deep space missions, and all that those entailed. He, having perhaps the one of the greatest tactical and command experience record in the fleet for this particular area, found that he rarely had to look at his notes. And he could tell that those assembled before him were listening attentively. Not only to his experience and insight, but also to the recommendations he made for the future.

When he finally finished, it was to a standing room only. And as he found his eyes drawn to the Counselor's, he could see the pride she felt for him shining in her gaze. He could feel it as well. All though such a thing was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

And so it was -- this evening in Paris -- that he found himself to be in completely uncharted waters. It had never mattered to him before -- what anyone else thought. Unless that person was a superior officer, their opinion would, after all, likely not impact his career.

And yet the Counselor's opinion meant more to him in this moment than the entire room who stood and applauded before him. A part of him was terrified of that fact. Another part of him rejoiced in it.

"Captain Riker will take questions now". The moderator tapped on the microphone to restore order.

"Captain..." One of the Admirals in the room spoke up. "We've all heard that the Enterprise-D has been equipped with the Federation's most state of the art technology. You will have a combined ship's crew and family compliment of a little over a thousand souls. How do you think the ramifications of combat may impact on such a large civilian population aboard your ship?"

"Actually..." Riker nodded. "That very point had been brought to my attention. By the head of Starfleet Psychology."

There was a short murmur as some of the eyes in the room turned towards Troi. For her part, the Counselor merely raised one eyebrow and remained silent.

"Initially, we disagreed on a course of action -- sometimes rather heatedly." He continued. "She'd suggested to me that a ship as large as the Enterprise should have a counseling staff on board as well as any otherwise routine medical personnel. On this point, we concurred. However, she also suggested that a ship's Counselor should exist within the bridge crew's chain of command. It was here that we failed to see eye to eye." Riker afforded the older man a courteous nod and then caught Deanna's somewhat bemused expression. He smiled.

"..Fortunately," He continued. "…for both your point, Admiral, and for the crew of the Enterprise, Starfleet Command saw fit to recognize the merit in her assessment. And after further consideration, I fully stand behind that decision as well. I am therefore pleased to announce that, as of now, the Enterprise will be the first in its class to have a full time counselor on board. That individual will maintain an officer's responsibilities -- including bridge duty -- and be given a small staff to help in their role aboard the largest ship in the Federation Fleet."

There was a brief moment of scattered applause and mutterings of approval before Will went on. "In addition, the Enterprise, is a dual-mode vessel. We have the ability to separate the civilian core of the ship from the command and tactical portion, thereby minimizing the risk to any non Starfleet personnel -- should a potentially dangerous situation arise."

After the Admiral nodded his approval, Riker was not surprised to hear Troi's voice speak up.

"Counselor." He acknowledged. He was to be more than a little surprised, however, when her question pertained not at all to the earlier topic of discussion, but to something else entirely.

"I wonder what happens to those families who aren't able to remain together. Couples for example, with careers on opposite ends of the quadrant. On a deep space vessel such as the Enterprise, crew members can be gone for months, perhaps years at a time. How would you imagine situations like that be dealt with?"

She might as well have stabbed him in the heart with a hyper-spanner. For a second, he merely stared at her, praying that he would be able to keep the emotion in his voice from showing when next he spoke.

"Well," He began. Pausing in what he already knew was an awkward manner. "I know that Starfleet has the utmost respect for the families of its officers. I suppose--" His eyes suddenly locked with hers. "There would always be marriage."

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"That would solve the problem of a familial attachment, yes. But what of the issue of careers? How would one be able to choose whether or not to give up their life's work if their -- spouse -- were to be assigned to a ship's compliment for years at a time?"

"I'm afraid I don't have an answer for that question, Counselor. I imagine that--" He paused, considering his words carefully.. "--were a situation like that to arise, between a couple, there would be no easy way to choose. Not without asking one or both of them to compromise their career objectives in some way."

"I see." She nodded slowly. And though he could feel her emotion; feel it in that part of him which seemed always connected to her now, those feelings did not show in the careful neutrality of her expression.

Glancing away from her then, Riker finally knew that she was aware of his orders. She had to be. Why else would she have asked that question. He felt a ball of discomfort grow in his throat and he wanted to shout -- to call out that it *wasn't* fair; that it tore at his heart more than anything he'd ever imagined possible. He wanted to leave the room; to take her with him and just hold onto her until the pain went away.

He took his next question, instead.

* * *

Chapter 40 "We'll always have Paris" (Part III)

"I was going to tell you, tonight." He frowned. It was the first sentence he'd uttered. The first sentence either one of them had uttered since they'd left the symposium and decided to take a walk along the waterfront.

Deanna nodded. "I know you were."

"You sort of -- pole axed me in there. You know that too?"

"I'm sorry." With a dip of her head, she suddenly raised her eyes to his once more, and this time they flashed. "Actually, no -- I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry because you're *leaving* me tomorrow night, and there's nothing I can do about it. So why should *I* be the one who's sorry?"

"I'm not leaving you, Deanna," Will reached out and took her hands in his. "I'm taking command of the Enterprise. I'm doing the one thing I've dreamed of doing for my entire life. I'm... I'm--"

"Breaking my heart..." She supplied, her eyes bright with moisture.

"God!" He tipped his head up to the heavens and implored... "I wish this could be different..." Then he pulled her to him in a fierce embrace.

"You know..." He suddenly stood back and held her shoulders in his hands. "You could just as easily quit your job with Fleet Command and come away with me..."

Her eyes grew large. "I couldn't!"

"Exactly..." This time Riker shook his head. "And neither can I, and that's what's tearing each of us apart. Here we are, two people who -- desperately want to be together -- but neither one of us is willing to give up our day jobs." He exhaled in frustration.

"If you're trying to get me to take a look at this philosophically," She whispered. "...it's not working."

"No, I'm not. I just..." He trailed off, searching her eyes. "You know what? I don't want to spend our last night together arguing. I want to be happy, and I want you to be happy." He suddenly extended his arms out from his sides and turned in a circle, speaking to the night.

"...I want to walk with you along the riverbank, and I want to remember all of the reasons we became friends. I want to take you dancing!" He finally exclaimed... glancing down at her with mischief in his eyes.

"...I want--" He began again, advancing towards her. "... to stay up until tomorrow morning with you, just -- talking."

"JUST talking?" She couldn't help but smile.

"That's it." He shrugged. "All though I won't be held responsible if you try and take advantage of me in my vulnerable state, Ms. Troi."

She giggled. "Oh, well, I'm not making any promises."

"Good..." He grinned, then leaned down to capture her mouth with a worshipful kiss. In response to his advance, she lifted her arms around his neck and melted against him.

Then with their faces so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin, he whispered:

"I don't want to think about tomorrow night. Tonight is for us. That way, no matter what happens--"

"We'll always have Paris..." She quoted drolly.

"Something like that." He took her hand and stepped back. "Come with me..."

"Where?" She asked.

"Wherever. Just for tonight. Pretend that we're ditching Starfleet."

Troi seemed to contemplate for a moment. She chewed on her lip. And then she looked up at him with bright eyes.

"Okay." She nodded. "Lets go..."

With that, Riker tugged on her hand and the two lovers ran down the banks of the Seine river, laughing under the glowing ambience of what had remained for centuries ... "The City of Lights..."

* * *

It was nearly 0230 when Will and Deanna found themselves curled up in a quiet spot on the waterfront, watching the waning moonlight shimmer and dance like shards of glass across the river.

They had walked and talked for hours - topics ranging from what they had always wanted to do with their lives as children, to concepts far more existential in nature. Now, as they reclined on the grass, Will kept an arm propped behind him for leverage and Deanna lay her head against his shoulder.

Somewhere off in the night, the sound of a musical instrument drifted by on the wind and they fell silent.

"I won't be able to say goodbye tomorrow." The Counselor finally sighed. At her soft voice, Riker turned her in his arms until he could see her eyes.

"Then don't." He whispered. For a time, she merely regarded him with large eyes.

"And I could never give up my work." She shook her head. "If I wasn't able to help people as a Counselor, then I wouldn't know what else to be."

"I wouldn't want you to be anything else..." He smiled down at her. "Just don't say goodbye. I don't believe in goodbyes, anyway."

"No goodbyes..." She echoed.

He nodded.

"Then lets make this our final meeting." She exhaled slowly. "I don't think I could take it if I had to go through this again another day..."

When her eyes drifted downward, Will reached for her and tipped her chin up with his fingertips.

"Then tonight, will last forever." He answered simply.

:::Imzadi:::: The brush of her mind touched against his and he closed his eyes, savoring its sweetness. ::::Promise me you won't forget:::: Her eyes grew dark with sorrow.

"Never." He answered, his own eyes burning.

"Well I don't know." She swallowed. "You're going to be up there, soaring through the stars with all of that excitement..."

"Pick a star." He whispered.

"What?"

"Up there." Lifting her hand in his, he raised them both towards the sky. Pointing at the still-visible canopy of starlight over their heads, he repeated. "Pick a star."

"That one" She pointed. "The bright one at the point in the triangle."

"Good." He smiled. "Now whenever you look up, I want you to find that star. And when you find that star, I want you to know..." He turned her in his arms to face him. "Beyond any doubt, I want you to know that I'm up there somewhere, and I'm thinking of you."

She exhaled shortly and he knew that in an instant he would see her teardrops fall. Before either one of them might lose their tenuous grip on control, he stood and offered her his hand.

"Dance with me..." He whispered.

"Here? There isn't any music..." She almost smiled.

"Then we'll make our own." His eyes implored her. He seemed so certain. And so she placed her hand in his, while he helped her to stand.

The Captain pulled the Counselor into his arms.

"You see?" He whispered, holding her close to him. "I love this song..."

She shut her eyes and let the moment fill her.

"Me too." Her whispered reply carried forth on the breeze.

*

When they finally fell asleep that night, they hadn't said goodbye. Not even with the touch of morning's early light upon them, when Riker had risen from their bed and leaned down gently to place a kiss against her lips as she slept did he think to use the words which meant parting forever.

"Imzadi" He whispered, standing in the doorway to their suite, holding his satchel in his hand. Finally, truly feeling the meaning of it --- burnt forever into his soul. Will Riker knew that he would never be alone.

Had he stayed a moment longer; had he remained in the doorway for even another second, he might have seen her stir. Or watched her as she opened her eyes, pulling the comforter close to her body. He may have witnessed when she wrapped her arms around it. And when the teardrops fell. Silent and unbidden, she wept for both of them.

* * *

Chapter 41 "Another Day"

"And that would be consistent with what we discovered earlier, right?" Doctor Crusher stared down at the PADD in her hand while a small frown of contemplation touched the corners of her lips.

"Deanna?" She repeated, when her colleague hadn't responded.

"Huh?" Troi glanced up, suddenly realizing she hadn't heard a single word of what Beverly had been saying.

With a tired sigh, Crusher came to sit at the corner of her friend's desk. "He's leaving today, isn't he?"

Troi nodded wordlessly.

"Well then, damn it, go and see him. Why are you torturing yourself like this?" The older woman demanded sternly.

"Because..." Troi pushed her chair away from her desk. "If I see him again, it'll only be worse. And I don't know if I'll have the willpower this time to--"

She trailed off, shaking her head.

"To what? To keep from telling Starfleet Command just exactly what you think of their arrogant, and extremely bureaucratic denial of one their best officer's requests? The *only* truly personal request this officer has ever made in her entire service record, yet which they still saw fit to throw back in her face?"

Troi's eyes grew wide. "Wow."

"Deanna, if this were about you wanting to sit here behind a desk for the rest of your life 'running things', and Will wanting to take off across the galaxy in search of new life, I'd say the hell with it. You two would never work out. But honey, I was there when you filled out that transfer request. That went through before you and Will had even started seeing one another and it was always your dream to do something like this."

"But--" she stammered.

"No buts! The position of Counselor on board a Galaxy Class Starship was your concept from the very beginning. I know that, and you know that. And for God's sake, STARFLEET knows that too. They're just too damned bureaucratic to get off of their collective rear ends and find someone to replace you here. THAT is what this is about. Not you, not Will, not your careers. No offense, but I think we both know that no one is 'irreplaceable'. That's just another one-liner we're supposed to swallow like good little cadets." Crusher scowled.

At her expression, Deanna couldn't help but smile. "I honestly never knew you were that bitter..."

"I wasn't." The Doctor admitted. "Until they screwed over my best friend. I get cranky about things like that."

"Well your best friend appreciates your honesty..." Troi rose from her seat and walked over to hug the older woman. "But that still doesn't change the fact that the request was indeed denied. Even if I were to appeal, the process would take time and the Enterprise leaves tonight." She shook her head.

"Hell, who said anything about an appeal?" Crusher smirked.

Deanna raised an eyebrow and the doctor shrugged.

"I'd resign. Let them try and cram *that* into their process."

* * *

"I must say, Captain... this office really feels hollow already." Admiral Picard nodded at the officer before him; this man who was only a short few hours away from taking command of the Flag Ship of the Federation.

"Well, I think I've finally cleaned everything out. It's amazing what a person can accumulate in just three short weeks." Will Riker grinned.

"Indeed." The Admiral nodded. "You know, Will, I heard that your talk at the symposium went extraordinarily well."

At that, Riker looked up from his task of sorting miscellaneous 'paperwork'.

"Yes..." He picked up a stray PADD absently. "It wasn't bad."

"I have it from Admiral Tesson that you answered several rather difficult questions with a great deal of diplomacy."

"Well, I suppose I should thank Admiral Tesson for that -- glowing report." Riker shrugged.

"I also understand that you successfully fielded one question in particular -- from Counselor Troi." Picard went on, and this time Riker's gaze pinned the older man with a very direct look of query.

"What exactly is this about, sir?"

"Well." The Admiral cleared his throat. "Nothing, really. Except that I -- and the Council -- were very impressed with your candor."

"My talk at the symposium came up at a meeting of the Council of the Federation?" Will tipped his head slowly in wonder. "I don't know whether to be flattered or worried..."

"You certainly needn't be worried." Picard gestured offhandedly.

"Right. Well, I appreciate your visit then..." Will looked perplexed. "Sir?"

"Oh, no problem at all. I just wanted to drop by and send you off properly. So to speak." With a genuine smile, Picard shook Riker's hand. "Safe journey, Captain. May the wind be always at your back."

Recognizing the ancient mariner's blessing, Will inclined his head and smiled back at his superior officer. "Thank you, sir."

* * *

Chapter 42 "What Has Been, Will Be"

It was three hours before to the Enterprise's scheduled departure from space-dock and Captain Riker still hadn't managed to settle in the last of his personnel.

With a frustrated sigh, he tugged down on his uniform. The ship was scheduled to rendezvous with the final portion of their compliment at a potentially new station which the Federation had been referring to as: "Farpoint". Until then, it appeared, he might still be three bridge officers short.

"Lieutenant..." Turning towards his chief of security, a tall, well built woman with fairly intense teal eyes, Riker nodded. "You have the bridge until I can figure out where the hell the rest of my crew is."

"Yes sir." She answered promptly, and then he smiled at her, knowing that it might break the ice. It did. She relaxed visibly and smiled back, but only a little -- well in keeping with her reputation. Tasha Yar was renowned as an excellent tactician, and Will was certain she would be a tremendous asset to the crew. They would all just need a little time to settle in.

Standing in the doorway to the turbolift, Riker glanced around the bridge one final time; taking in the wonder of it. Picard had been correct, of course. There really had been nothing in his career which would ever again compare to the first moment he'd stepped onto the bridge of the Flag Ship. His ship.

Glancing proudly at the plaque which hung on the wall, its raised lettering proclaiming the characters: NCC-1701D, he smiled. Then with a turn and a quick step forward, he entered the lift fully and called out his deck. The computer beeped dutifully and the doors slid shut behind him.

*

As he strode through the corridors of Deck 8, intent on his destination, Riker realized belatedly that he would be walking directly past what was to be the office of the new ship's Counselor.

Tempering his pace, he suddenly found himself standing in front of the very doorway in question, and he exhaled slowly. From a clip at his waist, the Captain extracted a data PADD and scanned it briefly. Darrel... Lieutenant Commander Darrel.

Nice service record. Exemplary qualifications He paused outside to collect his thoughts. Visibly straightening of his posture, Riker pressed the chime.

Without a word, the door slid open before him, revealing a tidy, well kept -- and obviously as yet undecorated -- office space. He stepped inside.

Darrel was sitting at her desk, the back of her chair towards him, and she was apparently concentrating intently on some matter of special interest, for he could see the console scrolling just behind her. Crew records, no doubt. That would be her first order of business without question.

He cleared his throat.

"Excuse me Counselor. I hope I'm not intruding, I just dropped by to introduce myself..." He began, watching as the back of her chair moved slightly when he spoke.

And then the chair turned fully around. And the PADD he'd been holding in his hand clattered to the floor.

"Dee!" His eyes grew wide, his mouth dry, robbing him of his ability to speak.

"I hope you don't mind." Her eyes locked with his. "Lieutenant Commander Darrel was ... reassigned."

Before he could utter a reply, she rose from her chair and rounded the corner of her desk. When she reached its edge, she suddenly stopped and the two held eye contact. In that instant, it was just as it had been before. As though everything moved through a visceral dreamscape around them. One moment she regarded him from afar and the next she had launched herself into his arms.

"Oh my God ..." He whispered. Clinging to her as tightly as she now held him.

"H-- how?" He murmured, though she began kissing him relentlessly. "I thought--"

"I took your advice." She finally whispered. "And Beverly's. I quit."

Just as he was about to comment, she pulled away from him until she could see his face, belaying his inquiry.

"Apparently, Starfleet Command was even less prepared to accept my resignation than they had been to allow my transfer request."

With a short laugh, she pulled him back towards her. "So, Imzadi..." Her voice was coy. "...I know both of us have a *lot* of work to do. When don't we?" She grinned. "But I thought, perhaps..." She punctuated each pause with a brush of her lips against his. "We might have dinner ." Switching her attention to the base of his neck, she added: "And then..."

"And then..." He whispered back, right before he dropped his head and kissed her breathless.

"I like that idea..." Deanna recalled.

"Me too."

And for several glorious minutes, the two lovers remained blissfully unaware of their surroundings; uncaring of their 'uniforms' or their responsibilities; unseeing of the great ship around them which was to bear them ever onward in search of new life. New civilization.

Perhaps even a future --- all their own.

* * *

Epilogue

"Counselor Troi?"

A young ensign poked his head into her office and Deanna had to smile -- not for the first time -- at the irony of the fact that no matter where she traveled, it seemed there would always be another 'young ensign' ready to trip all over himself while trying to relay a message.

"Yes, ensign?" She beckoned him forward.

"Captain Riker asked me to give you this." Making his way quickly inside, the young man dropped a piece of paper into the Counselor's hand.

"Did he say what it's for?" Troi asked, regarding the somewhat 'rare' item speculatively.

"No sir. Just that I was to deliver it and that if I valued my life, I wouldn't open it."

Deanna grinned at that. "Well then, I thank you for your very dutiful response."

The ensign smiled back. It had been obvious since she'd first been introduced to him a little over a year ago, that he had quite a crush on her. And some part of her had secretly enjoyed the fact, primarily because it had provided a host of wonderful opportunities to tease Will.

The ensign nodded and scurried from her office. Once he had gone, Deanna carefully began to unwrap her precious cargo, opening it one fold at a time. When the entire thing had been unwrapped, she began to read.

After the first few lines, she found that her eyes had already grown somewhat moist and she brushed at them in annoyance. Lately, it seemed, she'd found herself more and more apt to suddenly lose control of her emotions this way, for one reason or another. In this case --- happiness. Still, it was a frustrating point of fact for the young Counselor for which there had been no real explanation other than (she surmised) she needed to take a little time off.

Having finished her examination of the tiny note, she was thoroughly touched. And she made a small sound in the back of her throat indicating as much. Trust Will to send her something like this at the end of a long day just -- because.

With a deep sigh, she refolded the paper and placed it inside of her uniform. She would have to 'discuss' this with him later. A smile touched the corners of her lips. In the meantime...

A COMM light began blinking at the edge of her desk and she glanced up at it. Reaching out, she tapped in a personal code, authorizing her acceptance of the text-only message which had been marked "Confidential".

As she read it, her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open.

"Oh my..." She whispered.

* * *

Ten Forward was bustling with activity when Captain Riker finally found himself entering through it's double doorway. For a moment, he scanned the room for his dinner companion and then he met her eyes with a bright smile.

"Dee--" He leaned down to kiss her softly before taking a seat opposite her. "I thought this day would never end. And you might think I'm nuts -- actually you know me well enough by now to have already certified that I'm completely out of my mind..." He grinned and she returned his smile with a roll of her eyes. "But, now that I'm finally here with you, I might almost be tempted to say it was worth the wait..."

Reaching across the table, Deanna took his hand in hers. By now, the Enterprise crew was well aware of the relationship between their Captain and their Counselor. Many of them had in fact, been in attendance at the wedding of the two officers --- almost a year ago.

"I got your note. On paper no less." She squeezed his fingers. "It was beautiful..."

"Well..." He glanced downward and she could feel him blushing. "I told you I was nuts -- but mostly about you."

At this, however, her expression grew serious as did the emotion he felt from her. Will found himself staring at her in query.

"What is it?" He finally voiced.

"Will..." She sighed. "I have something, I need to tell you."

"Okay." He nodded, echoing her serious gaze.

"I guess it would probably be best if I just came right out and said this..." She began. "We ... are pregnant."

At that, his crystal blue eyes flashed and he exhaled sharply.

"We... " Riker stammered. "We're... Did you just say we're..."

She nodded firmly, her eyes bright. "I know ... I know we said we were going to wait. We were going to plan this, and I promise you that I never stopped taking the hypo...I know you didn't either, I honestly don't know how--"

"We're having a baby…" Will breathed. Then he took her hands in his and pulled her up from the table with him. She nodded again.

"We're having a baby!"

This time, he shouted it out so that the whole room could hear his joy. For a moment, the lounge grew silent, and then the space erupted into the cheers and clapping of a hundred or so jubilant voices.

"Well that definitely calls for a celebration." A voice from the bar proclaimed. "Drinks are on the house!"

Again, the room exploded in cheers. But Will Riker was oblivious to them. He lifted his wife into his arms and spun her around, kissing her soundly.

"I take that to mean that the timing is okay with you then...?" Deanna regarded him once he'd allowed her to breathe again.

"Okay? Okay?! Dee... I'm going to be a father!" He laughed. "I didn't think it was possible but I've never been more in love with you..." He shook his head in disbelief.

"Then hurry up and kiss me before I start to cry again..." She pleaded, half laughing.

He did. And then pulled her into a fierce embrace. It was in that moment that the Counselor noticed the smile of one person in particular, across the room. She smiled in return.

"Will, have you met the Enterprise's new bartender?" Deanna finally gasped, when she could breathe again. He shook his head, still unwilling to look at anyone or anything other than her. But she continued:

"She's really quite wonderful. I'd never spoken at length with an El'Aurian before..."

"El'Aurian?" Riker's eyes rose. They were notorious for keeping a certain air of 'mystery' about them wherever they traveled. He allowed Deanna to turn him around.

Taking him by the arm, she escorted him over towards the bar and into the presence of a smiling, dark skinned woman.

"Will Riker, I'd like you to meet Ten Forward's new hostess." She extended her arm between them. "Guinan, this is Captain Riker..."

"It's an honor to meet you, Captain." The El'Aurian nodded slowly, taking in the two of them with a slow, though genuine, smile.

"The pleasure is mine, Guinan." He watched her for a moment before his eyes began to sparkle as they had only moments earlier.

Less than a fraction of a moment later, the Captain leaned forward over the bar, whispering:

"We're having a baby!"

"I know..." The older woman shook her head to the affirmative, smiling at his playful antics...

Deanna laughed enchantingly as well, and Riker scooped her up effortlessly into his arms, spinning them both around once more. They drew back into the room where he finally caught her up against one of the far walls, her arms encircled his neck and their heads came together.

"I know." Guinan repeated. And with that, she scanned the room of her new 'home' on board this ship --- The Enterprise --- nodding in satisfaction.

Her lips turned upward, and into an enigmatic smile.

* * *

END