--------
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
Codes: R/f, R/T, P/C, ?/?
Rated: R (adult scenarios and sensuality)
Archive: Please do not.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I'm doing something completely different this
time. I usually have at least an idea of where I
want to go with a piece of writing, even fanfiction.
It is, after all, good form to do so.
Today, however, I decided to go with the old
adage "why the hell not?"
Because I have so little time to plan and
execute personal writing projects, I've decided to
put pen to paper and write something completely
without direction. Please note that is entirely an
experiment. I don't have a clue where this story is
going to go, or how it will end, but I'm banking on
the fact that the characters might let me know as I
go along.
Imagine that. Sitting down and listening to
the voices and simply transcribing what goes on! I
will hope none of you mind my lack of planning or
forethought. But whether or not you do, the idea of
this venture is exciting for me as an author. Perhaps
this is the ultimate test of a fan-writing forum:
the ability to post absolutely anything of a creative
nature and not feel guilty about it!
I will, in the scope of this work, be
referencing elements of 'history' from both the
series and the novel "Imzadi". Because there are
instances of Will and Deanna's past which are
different in the novel "Imzadi" than in the series,
you may notice continuity issues (with either) in my
telling of the story. I have not opted to elect
either of these sources as cannon, but rather to
combine them, so please accept this as my explanation
of that choice in advance.
And now without further adieu, I give you...
--------
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
Chapter 1
"Begin at the beginning ...
then go on till you come to the end:
then stop."
--Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
--------
"Sit down, Number-One."
Captain Jean-Luc Picard stood directly before
his larger first officer and pinned him with a level
gaze. They were in the observation lounge of the
Federation flagship, and their challenge was an
awkward one for both of them. For the briefest of
moments, the older man watched his junior officer's
glare of defiance. It was only a moment, and then it
was gone.
With a sigh of resignation, William T. Riker
sank backward into one of the conference room chairs.
"Tell me something, Will." Picard took his own
seat with decorum. "What the hell just happened on
my bridge?"
"I beg your pardon, sir?"
"You know precisely what I'm talking about,
Commander."
The two men locked eyes. For one insane
moment, Picard was almost certain Riker would rise
from his seat and deck him. But the moment was
fleeting, and Will Riker looked away first.
His eyes scanned the room: first the closed
entryway, and then the windows which spanned an
entire wall of the conference suite. When his
attention returned to the moment, Picard saw only
conflict within his first officer's eyes.
The captain frowned. "Will, you've been my
first officer for over seven years now. I admire
you. I respect your opinions, and I'm not here to
interrogate you. I'm here -- we are here -- because
I wanted to give you the opportunity to explain this
to me first, as a friend. I know you can't believe
that what went on just now was 'standard operating
procedure', and I think we're both aware of the
reasons why. All I'm asking of you is that you sit
here and have a conversation with a *friend*"
He emphasized the word 'friend' and Riker
seemed almost to cringe at its impact.
"I really have nothing to say, sir. I made a
decision, I thought it was in the best interest of
the miss--"
"Oh, bullshit Will!" Picard's patience
snapped. He rose to his feet and placed both hands
on the table before him. "That's just about as
ridiculous as my *not* realizing that you seem to
have lost your objectivity. Now which is it to be,
Commander? Do we have this conversation honestly, or
do I put a note into your record along with my
regrets?"
When Riker met the Captain's stare without
remark, Picard rose to his full height. Pulling down
on his uniform with an annoyed twist of the hand, he
nodded briefly. "Very well. I'll get Counselor Troi
in here and perhaps she can help us figure out what's
been going on with you lately." The older man tapped
his communicator and drew in breath to speak when a
large hand interceded his call.
"That won't be necessary, sir." Riker also
stood.
"Oh, I think it is, Number One."
The Commander dropped his gaze but kept his
shoulders squared. "You're right sir. What happened
in there was an inappropriate decision for this ship.
I have no excuse for that."
"Like hell you don't." Picard stepped forward.
"Will, you have been assembling teams for away-
missions on a fairly regular basis ever since you
arrived on board the Enterprise. What is so different
about this one?"
"Nothing significant."
"Nothing? It was something 'significant'
enough for you to embarrass the Counselor in front of
the entire senior crew, quite obviously. I wouldn't
call that nothing, Commander." Picard sighed. "I'm
going to be frank with you, Will. I know that both
you and Deanna have told me of the 'prior'
relationship which you and she had shared some years
ago, but as far as I was aware that was no longer an
issue -- for either of you. Yet the only reason I
seem to be able to come up with for your irrational
behavior just now is the fact that you were unwilling
to place her in danger on this mission.."
"You're right about that." Riker mumbled under
his breath. Picard raised an eyebrow.
"She's a Starfleet Commander, Will. As are
you."
"I do have a reason, sir."
"Indeed? What 'reason' could you possibly have
to exclude her from an away mission where she is
clearly the most qualified individual to fulfill her
portion of the task at hand?"
With shoulders squared, the Commander of the
Enterprise stared his Captain in the face. He said
nothing more, however, and Picard was finally forced
to turn away. "Very well Number One. Have it your
way. You're dismissed."
Riker regarded his superior's back for a time, before
he turned on his heel and left the conference suite
in several lengthy strides.
--------
Chapter 2
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after
it with a club."
--Jack London
--------
The moment he stepped through the doorway,
Riker strode onto the bridge with purpose. Gruffly
surveying the occupied members of the Enterprise
Crew, his gaze touched on Data at the con, the ensign
next to the android likewise at work on calculations
for their current mission assignment. He thinned his
lips and turned his attention to tactical where Worf
stood diligently hard to task.
He looked at everyone and everything -- but
her. He pointedly ignored her, because he knew that
she was looking at him. He could feel it. And every
time he turned his back on her, it was as though all
the hair on the back of neck was standing
collectively at attention.
"Mr. Data."
"Yes Sir." Data turned in his chair and waited
expectantly.
"Have you finished those calculations?"
"No sir. We are attempting to recalibrate
before the next transport window. Shall I inform you
of our final results?"
Riker kept his eyes carefully focused on the
android. "Yes. You have the bridge until then. You
know where to find me if you need me."
"Aye sir." Data nodded shortly and returned to
his task with practised efficiency.
Riker cleared his throat, nodded for emphasis
and then strode toward the turbolift doors.
She hadn't said anything. She'd been sitting
at her station the entire time but she'd remained
mercifully silent. He didn't know whether to feel
thankful or annoyed.
Still, as the turbolift doors slid shut in
front of him, the last thing he saw before the two
panels fixed in place had been the back of her head
as she purposefully glanced towards the occupied
conference room suite. Her thoughts undoubtedly on
the emotions of the man within those doors. Their
captain.
With an uttered curse, Riker thrust his fist
against the metal framework next to him.
*
The razor-beast hadn't stood a chance. Deftly
swiping its head off with a quick twist of his arm,
Riker raised his Klingon Bat'leth once more and
turned, dispatching two more of the lion-sized
holographic rodents.
Sweat was pouring from every orifice of his
body and he'd lost track of time hours ago, still he
fought.
It was what he'd always done when he was forced
to think. Some people meditated, others sat quietly
in dark corners and brooded -- Will Riker fought.
There was something in the kill; something in
the struggle of a near-deadly experience which
heightened his senses almost to visceral levels. It
had always allowed him a certain degree of clarity,
barbaric though it may have seemed to the casual
onlooker. He had learned long ago to measure in
terms of worth, only those things which lent him
strength.
Twisting in response to the latest foray of
attackers, Riker grunted at the dull ache of an
impacting claw before he had time to counter.
Only when he'd finished the last of them, did
the program pause and dutifully request permission to
advance to the next 'level' of play.
It was then that Riker became aware he had
company. He'd been about to bark his authorization
for level nine when his hands suddenly froze on the
cold metal instrument in his hand. His body snapped
straight up and he turned.
"I'm not in the mood for company right now."
His voice carried behind him.
"You did a good thing today, Will. I'm sorry
it put you in this position, but you did the right
thing." The voice behind him sounded resigned.
"Yeah, well, I did what I had to do." He
lowered the weapon he held and began working the
strained muscles of his arms.
"No. You had a choice. You chose to risk a
formal reprimand. For whatever its worth, I think
that makes you a pretty wonderful man."
"Computer, end program." The holodeck
shimmered and the lush jungle around them transformed
into a familiar gold and black grid. Riker's posture
shifted and he turned towards his visitor.
"Beverly, the hell with the reprimand. Do you have
any idea how long it's going to take me to get her to
forgive me for treating her that way?" He shook his
head, thrusting one of his hands against his forehead
in order to brush away a damp tendril of hair.
"She knows the reason why."
Riker suddenly threw her an incredulous look.
"Your point is...?"
"She can't be upset with you for doing what you
did."
"I beg your pardon?" He strode towards her and
stood with her in the doorway to the holodeck. "Have
we been introduced to the same Deanna Troi, doctor?"
Crusher afforded him a wry smile. "She'll be
upset about it for a while, but if she won't allow
the Captain or any of the rest of the crew to be
aware of it, then she'll just have to take what she
gets. I'm sorry, Will. But I'm glad you already
knew. I'm bound by a medical oath, but she's only
got you on a personal promise. One you made years
ago, I might add. If you wanted to let the Captain
know-"
"Hold it. Hold it. Beverly, you know as well
as I do that I could no more approach the Captain
about this than you could."
"She would have gone down there today, Will.
She wouldn't have said anything.." Beverly Crusher
sighed.
Riker looked at her. For a time, that was all
he did. And then he nodded slowly. "I know."
"I couldn't have said anything without bringing
the Captain in on it..." Crusher continued.
"And she knew that since no one else's life was
directly in danger, you wouldn't be obligated to
bring it up." Riker finished the thought for her.
She nodded. "Thank goodness you knew. That's
all I can say."
Riker looked away for a moment, and then he met
her gaze. "I'll be in my quarters. We won't be
doing anything until tomorrow mid-afternoon by Data's
calculations. That'll give us all a little time to
think."
Crusher nodded in understanding and reached out
to touch his arm gently. "You *are* a good man,
Will. No matter what she has to say about it. I
even think she'll come around to seeing things this
way after a while. It's just that right now-"
"I know." He whispered. "I know."
Together, the two of them exited the holodeck,
walking slowly down the corridor in companionable
silence.
--o--
--------
Chapter 3
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"A blank page or canvas ... so many possibilities!"
--Stephen Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George
--------
"Mr. Data, report." Riker stood to one side of
the con, his body tipped forward, his hand on the
back of Data's chair.
"We will have a transport window in precisely
eighty-three minutes, sir." The android keyed in
several more commands and then paused in his task.
"The Ikerrim are standing by to receive our away team
at the designated coordinates. They are anticipating
no difficulty in obtaining the chemical within our
allotted time frame and I have been informed by
Chancellor Kern that we will be able to transport off
the surface of the planet well within the same
transport window."
"Very good. I'll inform the Captain. You have
the bridge, Mr. Data." Riker nodded brusquely and
moved towards the door to the Captain's ready-room.
*
"Come." Picard raised his head from the
monitor he'd been studying, his face a careful mask
of neutrality when the form of his first officer
moved quietly inside the room.
"We'll be ready to beam down in about eighty
minutes, sir." Riker stood rigidly before the
Captain's desk.
"Is your team ready?" Picard shifted the
monitor aside and sat forward in his chair.
"They are, sir."
"Excellent." The Captain's voice remained
thoughtful, but his lips had curled into a small
frown. An uncomfortable silence descended upon the
two officers. "You know that I never interfere in
your choice of away-team members, number one."
"Thank you sir." Riker seemed to relax
visibly, a gesture which caused Picard's frown to
deepen.
"But you are aware of my feelings on the
issue."
"I am, sir." Riker nodded.
"Your decision remains the same?"
"It does."
"I see." Picard sighed. "Very well. You're
dismissed."
Riker turned towards the doorway and had taken
a step forward when he heard Picard's voice behind
him.
"Please inform Counselor Troi that I'd like to
see her when you return to the bridge."
Riker froze in mid-motion and felt every muscle
in his body tense involuntarily. But he made no
audible protest. "Yes sir." He returned, forcing
himself to take another step, and then another until
he had once again reached the door to the bridge. He
waited for it to slide aside. "She won't be on duty
for another few minutes." He added, as though the
thought had only just occurred to him. "Would you
prefer to page her?"
Picard had already returned to the information
on his computer screen. "No." He didn't raise his
head. "Just let her know when she arrives for her
shift."
Riker felt his fingers curl together at his
sides. He uncoiled them purposefully. "Aye sir."
He stepped through the doorway and heard it hiss shut
behind him.
../
*
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Chapter 4
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Once upon a time there was what there was,
and if nothing had happened there would be nothing to
tell."
--Charles de Lint, Dreams Underfoot
--------
The bridge was bustling with activity. Riker
surveyed the scene before him as duty-officers for
beta shift began arriving through the aft turbo-lift
doors. Ensigns and lieutenants moving quickly and
efficiently onto the command center of the
Enterprise, trading places with those who had just
completed the previous ten hour shift. And every
time the turbo-lift doors slid aside, his eyes would
snap in their direction, each time expecting that she
would be the next to cross through their threshold.
It was only a minute or so before she was.
Riker had been standing near the center of the
bridge when he felt the nearly ticklish sensation.
He had long ago come to associate the peculiarity of
the feeling with her entrance into any room which he
was also an occupant of. It was only slightly more
profound than what some referred to as human 'sixth
sense'; a feeling which caused the back of a person's
neck to prickle when another individual was watching.
In this case, however, the feeling was definitely
unique to whatever connection she and he had come to
share. He turned.
She was looking right at him, her face
impassive. In fact, she was here to relieve *him*,
and the irony of the entire scenario was almost
enough to make him laugh. Almost. He cleared his
throat instead.
"Commander." He called her by her formal rank
rather than that of her medical office. A standard
practice in consideration of the fact that she was
going to be taking command of the bridge of a ship
for the next ten hours, not counseling its crew.
"Rough shift?" She inquired flatly. Quietly
enough so that only he could hear. "You look like
hell."
"Thanks." He managed a wry grin. But then it
disappeared. The moment he remembered what he'd have
to tell her. "The Captain wants to see you in his
ready-room. I'll hang around for a few more
minutes."
Only the hint of expression crossed her eyes at
his statement. She nodded in understanding and
turned towards the doorway at the foot of the bridge.
Riker watched her go through it, a familiar
feeling of dread creeping slowly into his throat.
*
When she emerged from the Captain's ready-room
several minutes later, Riker could see that something
was wrong. He could see it, because she looked as
though everything was just fine. Her body was
straight, her posture assured. Even the way she held
her head betrayed nothing of the way he knew she was
really feeling.
Approaching his position, she smiled
perfunctorily and shrugged.
Riker didn't buy into it for a second. His
eyebrows rose. "Are you oka-"
"Consider yourself officially relieved for beta
shift, Commander."
He paused where he stood, but said nothing.
Here on the bridge there was little he could do in
any event. The away-team would be leaving for the
planet's surface in little more than an hour and he
likely wouldn't see her again until some time after
that. Letting out a long, slow breath of air, Riker
simply nodded.
*
"Data! Picked up anything we can use yet?"
Geordi LaForge crawled over an outcropping of rock
and righted himself on the other side, stepping up
next to the android who held an illuminated
instrument in his hand.
"Faint readings. There are mineral deposits
just below the surface of those rocks." Data tipped
his head towards a sheer cliff-face and Geordi
frowned.
"Commander!" The engineer called over his
shoulder.
"Right here Geordi. What have we got?" Riker
moved to join the two men and doctor Crusher followed
closely behind him.
"Mineral deposits. Could be more of the
chemical compound below them. But we'll have to get
inside those rocks to find out." LaForge turned his
head and examined the rockface through the enhanced
visual acuity of his visor. "I think there's a good
possibility, sir. But we'll need to come back and
bring the right equipment."
Riker shook his head. "Not an option, Geordi.
The Ikerrim aren't very friendly with us as it is,
they aren't going to like us coming back again for a
second trip"
"We may not have a choice." Geordi pointed at
the fiery sun overhead. Red streaks had begun to
tint the sky overhead in an almost surreal fashion.
"We're almost out of transport window as it is. It
took us three times as long as we thought it would
just to locate this deposit."
This time it was Crusher who spoke, snapping
her tricorder shut as she did so. "Starfleet's not
going to be happy if we head to Deep Space Seven
empty handed. They can only make so much of the
amodean vaccine with a synthesized product before it
begins to degrade. And by my calculations, we have
less than twelve hours before its too late for those
four hundred people on the station even if we make it
back there with a full crate."
Riker sighed and swore under his breath.
"Data, assuming we can get a hold of the compound,
how long will it take us to make the trip to Deep
Space Seven at warp nine?"
"Five hours, forty-seven minutes, sir."
"And how long will it take to synthesize the
vaccine once we're there?" He turned to Crusher.
"Twenty-five minutes for the process, another
ten or fifteen to administer."
Data tipped his head inquisitively. "That will
leave us exactly five hours thirt-"
"I get the picture Data." Riker clenched and
unclenched his fist. "Away team to Enterprise." He
tapped the badge at his chest.
<Enterprise here, go ahead Commander.> It was
Troi's voice. He frowned.
"Looks like we're going to have to make a
second trip here after all." His words hung in the
air for a moment. "Inform the Captain that we'll be
getting in touch with Chancellor Kern, we'll require
his cooperation for a few hours longer."
There was a pregnant pause.
<Acknowledged,> came the final reply.
Riker let out a breath he hadn't even known he
was holding. He felt Crusher's hand on his arm and
he turned, allowing her to pull him aside from the
others.
"Will, I know what you're thinking."
"It's not what I'm thinking. It's what I know
Deanna is thinking. It's what *I* would be thinking
if I were her. How can I take this decision away
from her? It's hers to make.."
"That's only partly true." Crusher responded
slowly, as though tasting the words even as they left
her lips.
"But I *can't*." Riker shook his head. "Four
hundred people up there and I *can't*. Maybe the
Captain was right, maybe-"
"Will." She interrupted, but it was clear he
wasn't paying attention. "Will! There's no guarantee
that Deanna would be able to help us find what we
need down here any more quickly than we already
have."
He flashed her a stupified look. "You can't be
serious."
Crusher dipped her head and sighed.
"Beverly, there are sentient life forms living
in those caves. Chancellor Kern seems to think they
feed on the chemical. We may not be able to pick
them up on our sensors, but Deanna could point in
their direction within a few meters just by standing
on this rock."
"That's not the part that worries me." She
whispered. "These cliffs are riddled with that
stuff. Raw form. If she comes anywhere near a
deposit, she's as good as dead. Her Betazoid
heritage will take care of that before I could even
get near enough to call for an emergency beam-out.
And that transport window is closing fast. What if
we're stuck down here for another hour?"
Riker looked away.
"Will, what if we didn't even have a Betazoid
officer on board? We'd still be right here, wouldn't
we?" When he hadn't responded or turned in her
direction, she repeated. "Wouldn't we?"
"Yeah."
"And as far as the Captain is concerned, don't
you think he'd make the same decision if he knew?"
Beverly squeezed his arm gently while he pondered his
response.
"We *will* find the compound Will. We'll do it
on our own. I've given my life to the practice of
medicine. Believe me, I don't want to see those
people die, but if Deanna comes down here, she *will*
die. The odds are almost overwhelming."
Riker had allowed himself to look at her once
more and was now unable to tear his gaze away even as
a summons from the Enterprise came through his comm
badge, interrupting them both.
<Enterprise to away team> It was the Captain's
voice.
"Riker here, sir."
<Commander, I'm afraid our time has grown
considerably shorter. I have a communique from Deep
Space Seven, they've informed me that the situation
has advanced. We now have fewer than nine hours
before the entire mission becomes moot.>
Riker looked up and Crusher's face drained of
color. "Understood sir. We're already organizing
another surface trip."
<I'm afraid that won't be good enough,
Commander. I realize this is fairly unprecedented,
but I feel that under the circumstances, I'm going to
have to overrule your decision regarding Counselor
Troi's presence on this mission. She will be
prepared to beam down to your coordinates in five
minutes.>
"Sir, I *strongly* feel that-"
<Enterprise out, Commander.>
The comm went dead, and Riker traded an
uncomfortable look with Crusher.
"Oh my God." Beverly whispered.
--o--
--------
Chapter 5
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your
sources."
--Albert Einstein
--------
"Geordi, Data, get me a scan of the entire
area!" Riker barked, spinning around. "I want to
know if there are any mineral deposits directly under
our position. Anything which might mean there's
chemical compound within a half kilometer radius.."
"We've already taken care of that, sir."
Geordi nodded from his position several meters away.
"The nearest deposits are in those cliffs to the
north, and behind us on the other side of the canyon
wall. That's about three quarters of a kilometer
from here at least."
Riker pinned the engineer with a pointed look.
"You're certain?"
"Absolutely. Why?"
"All right then, lets get those figures
together and have the Enterprise beam down the
extraction assembly. We've got fewer than three
hours to get this done and I don't want any hitches
along the way."
"Yes sir." Data nodded and then tapped his
comm badge. He began conferring with the Engineering
team.
Riker turned towards Crusher. "She never got
angry, Beverly. I expected her to march into my
quarters and tell me exactly what she thought of my
decision. You and I both expected it, but it never
happened." He shook his head. "And today on the
bridge, she almost smiled at me. I should have
known.." He balled his fist up and turned away
violently. "God damn it, I should have known she'd
try something like this! Why didn't I know?"
Crusher said nothing at first. And then he
heard her sigh. "You knew. We both knew." She was
silent for a time. "This is insane!" Her voice
picked up. "How can she just throw her life away
like this-? How can she think that-"
"And how can we judge her, Beverly?" Riker
lifted his shoulders in resignation. "You'd do the
same thing in her place, wouldn't you? To save four
hundred lives? I've been thinking about it a lot
since yesterday. How fragile all of it is. But in
the end, any one of us would feel the same way. One
of us. Four hundred of them. There's no other
choice to make, is there?" He spoke slowly, as
though he were only coming to the realization while
the words formed one at a time.
"How very Vulcan of you." She snapped.
"You think I want this?" He whispered harshly,
rounding on her. "You think I wanted any of this?
Damn it, Beverly! If she dies-" He trailed off and
turned away.
"I'm sorry." Crusher placed her hand on his
arm from behind. "I didn't mean that."
When he flinched at her touch, she withdrew her
hand. "I know." He sucked in a deep breath and then
squared his shoulders. From where he stood, Riker
found himself watching Geordi and Data continue to
take readings of the sheer cliff face north of their
position. He was also in position to notice when the
atmosphere next to his two officers rippled with
familiar brightness. Three figures appeared: Two
lieutenants who quickly moved towards Data's vantage
point, and one Betazoid counselor who remained where
she stood. Her eyes met and locked with Riker's.
Crusher turned away first, stalking in the
other direction as though she were unwilling to even
contemplate their situation. He saw Deanna sigh.
And he felt it. Her eyes on him were both soft and
intense. She knew, just as they knew, that her
coming here had more than likely been a one way
ticket. But she'd done it anyway. And now there was
no further point in argument. He dropped his head
as she started towards him.
"Will." Her voice preceded her. He looked up.
"I'm sorry." Her whispered voice sounded
paradoxically like Crusher's just had. He nodded
impassively.
"First sign of trouble Deanna, and I'm beaming
you the hell out of here, consequences be damned."
He spoke firmly and she fixed him with a stare which
unnerved him more than he would ever have admitted
to.
Finally, she nodded. "Okay, but you're
looking in the wrong direction." Her comment came
accompanied by a wry smile. "They're over there."
She moved aside, indicating an outcropping of rock
not more than five hundred meters to his left.
His eyes widened, and he glanced backward at
Geordi and Data's team.
"Are you sure?"
She stared at him blankly.
"Okay. Okay." He flashed her a quiet apology.
"Data, Geordi, looks like we were on another false
trail. Take a look at those rocks," and indicated
their quarry with a gesture of his hand. "I have a
feeling we'll be out of here in under an hour."
Data stepped forward, but Geordi suddenly
stopped. He glanced at the sky over their heads.
"We may well be out of here in an hour sir, but I'm
afraid we won't be going anywhere before then."
Riker turned.
"Looks like our transport window just slammed
shut fifteen minutes early. We're stuck down here
for at least an hour until the next cycle runs
through."
"Are you sure?" Riker traded a glance between
Geordi and Deanna.
"Should be all right though. It'll take us at
least an hour to get these crates full." The
engineer shrugged. "I just hope the Ikerrim aren't
going to mind our company a little while longer."
"Get on it, Geordi." Riker exhaled slowly. He
moved toward Deanna and stood next to her. "You're
staying right here Counselor. I'm not taking any
chances. Don't even move."
"You'd like me to remain immobile, for the next
hour? Why don't you just tie me to a tree?" She
threw him a pointed look and then smirked. He didn't
return the favor, taking her arm instead.
"This isn't funny, Deanna. You shouldn't even
be here."
Her expression sobered. "If I hadn't been
here, your team would still be digging over there.
And by our latest set of calculations, those four
hundred people on Deep Space Seven don't have a whole
lot of time left."
"We could have found it on our own."
"Right." She nodded sarcastically.
"Deanna, if you don't listen to Will, I swear
to you I'll sedate you and you'll lie there until the
Enterprise beams us back up." Crusher's voice
intruded on their discussion and Troi turned.
"Beverly, I'm fine." Her eyes entreated her
friend's cooperation.
"You're fine now. And we want to keep it that
way. If you insist on keeping your situation a
secret from the Captain and the rest of the senior
crew, then the least you can do is let Will and I do
whatever we can to keep you away from that compound."
Troi sighed audibly. "Contrary to popular
belief, I don't have a death wish," she mumbled.
"Doctor." Geordi's voice drifted towards them.
He and Data stood directly in front of a fairly
large, human-sized hole in the rock-face which they
had undoubtedly just created. "We could use your
help here with these readings, and if we encounter
any of those -- life forms -- while we're in there."
"I'm on my way." She called back, affording
Deanna one last concerned look before the counselor
waved her off.
"Beverly, go. The sooner you get those crates
filled, the sooner we can get out of here." This
time she turned towards Will. "All of us."
With a quick nod, Beverly moved beyond the rock
face and down towards the salvage team. When she had
passed out of casual earshot, Troi crossed her arms
over her chest and regarded Riker.
"He knows Will. I told him I wanted to come
down here. I told him it was my choice to make."
she finally spoke.
"He--what? How long?"
She shook her head.
"How long, Deanna? When did you tell him?"
She sighed softly. "Right after you saw him
yesterday. I knew that you'd do this, so I went to
him myself. I didn't want Beverly to be the one to
do it. Or to try and convince him that it wasn't my
right.."
"God damn it, Deanna! Do you have any idea
what kind of a position you put me in? My first duty
has always been to this ship, and to my Captain. Now
I've managed to deceive both of them, and for what?
If you were planning on letting him know all along,
why didn't you tell me?"
"Would it have mattered Will?" She reached
forward and brushed her hand across the features of
his face. "You have always been an exemplary
officer. And you and I -- we have an agreement,
right?"
When he didn't respond, she went on. "Right?
We have an agreement. And you broke it. This was
never about you keeping a secret for me. Or the
well-being of the ship. You knew that I was the only
chance we had for this mission's timely success. And
you knew the Captain would see it that way too, if I
volunteered."
"I don't think I like where this is headed,
Counselor-"
"You knew that he would allow me to do this.
It was you, Will. You were the one who didn't want
down here. You used the Captain as an excuse. And
Beverly went along with it because she's my dearest
friend. Gods, Will, I know that much is true. And I
also know that you expected me to be angry with you
about it. But I'm not."
"Deanna-"
"How could I be angry with you? When I
probably would have done the exact same thing in
your place." She shook her head sadly. "You know,
I've played it over and over again in my head."
"You are *not* an expendable member of this
crew!" He yelled at her. He wanted to shake her, or
knock some sense into her. But he did neither.
Remaining where he stood, frozen with fury instead.
"Are any of us?" She whispered. "Four
hundred lives, Will. Four hundred people who are
going to die if we don't help them..."
He turned away from her.
"Oh, Will." She moved toward him until they
stood side by side and she tipped her head against
his shoulder. "It's going to be fine. You'll see.
And we're going to make it back in time to save those
people. They deserve a chance to live, don't you
think?" Her voice was quiet, but carried a hint of
reproach.
"And what about you?" He muttered.
She shrugged. "I'm half human, that might also
make a difference."
"Doctor Crusher seems fairly convinced that it
won't. That compound is deadly to the part of you
which isn't human."
"My body, my decision." She met his level
gaze.
"Does Worf know?" He threw back angrily,
knowing it would strike a chord with her.
"Why would you ask me that?" She took a step
backward and narrowed her gaze.
"Because he might have had something to say
about it as well." Riker watched her expression.
"You didn't tell him did you?"
"It's not exactly something I broadcast on a
regular basis." She waved her hand impatiently. "It
never came up."
"Last night..? The night before that.. ? Are
you telling me that the two of you didn't even
discuss it?" The incredulity in Will's voice was
almost enough to make her cringe. "Do you think
that's fair to him?"
She narrowed her eyes. "I don't see how 'fair'
even enters into the picture on this, Will. It was a
personal choice. And it's none of your business.
Why would I worry him like that?"
"There's no such thing as a 'personal choice'
when you're a member of a Starfleet crew, Deanna.
You just reminded me of that."
"That's not why you asked me." She tossed
back.
"Well, maybe I just know that I'd want to know.
If you and I were-"
She watched him in silence when he paused.
He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.
"Not my business."
"Will." Deanna sighed. "Worf is leaving for
Deep Space Nine in less than a month."
"I know." He glanced up at her expectantly.
"Did you think I was going with him?" She
asked the question as though she already knew the
answer. And Riker didn't know what annoyed him more.
The fact that she did know the answer, or the fact
that she was forcing him to provide it for her
anyway.
"Maybe." He fixed her with a direct gaze.
"Maybe." She echoed. Then she dropped her
head and shook it slowly. "Maybe." She regarded him
with a small smile.
"Commander!"
His gaze broke from hers and Riker spun around.
"What is it Geordi?"
"I think we have a problem ... one of the phase
inducers just-"
The ground began rumbling beneath their feet.
Instinctively, Riker drew Troi towards him as they
scrambled for purchase.
"Commander! You and the Counselor need to head
over here for cover, this place is going to get a lot
crazier in about a minute. We can take shelter
beneath that-"
"Not an option Geordi." Riker called back from
their tenuous position.
Geordi turned to Data and threw him a perplexed
look. "What does he mean, not an option?"
"I am not certain." The android tipped his
head. "Commander, you must not remain where you are.
It is too dangerous.."
"We're staying, Data." Riker threw back. "Get
your team and get to cover. Now. That's an order!"
The ground continued to shake, and small
pockets of gas hissed to life all around them.
"Will, you have to *go*." Deanna shoved
against him, pushing him towards the others.
"Not a chance, Counselor." He grabbed hold of
her and pulled her in the opposite direction.
"Will!" She struggled for a moment in his
grasp and then relented.
"How about we flip a coin? Ancient earth
custom. Heads I win, tails you lose.."
"That doesn't sound very fair to me.." Troi
grumbled as she allowed him to lead her further
towards the opposite edge of the cliff.
"Fair?" He grinned, and then his voice took on
a mocking tone. "I don't see how 'fair' even enters
into the picture on this, Deanna."
They had almost made it to their final
destination -- when the earth opened up at their
feet.
--o--
--------
Chapter 6
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The best in this kind are but shadows, and
the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them."
--William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream
--------
A rocky chasm tore through the ground where
they'd been standing, sending shards of broken stone
soaring into the air. Will spun around and took
hold of Deanna's waist, yanking her backward into his
grasp; pulling her from the edge of the newly formed
precipice an instant before she would have fallen
into its maw. Then he took her hand and they ran;
ran for everything they were worth. And the rolling
ground chased them down as though it had a purpose of
its own.
"This planet is really starting to tick me
off!" Riker growled. They landed with both feet on
a new stretch of rock, struggling to catch their
breath while he clung to her. Formerly
uncooperative, Troi now held on to him with equal
fervor.
But the tremors continued; the seismic activity
having sliced a canyon sized wedge between their
position and the rest of the away-team. With a
sinking sense of dismay, Riker turned their bodies in
a slow circle, surveying the predicament they'd
landed in. They stood on the smooth center of an
otherwise rocky crag, no more than five meters wide
in any direction, isolated and what appeared to be at
least a hundred meters from the caves on the other
side of the canyon. There was no way back. And
without a transporter, they were trapped here
indefinitely. Riker sucked in a slow breath. And
the shaking suddenly stopped.
As unpredictably as it had started rolling, the
ground beneath their feet grew steady once more.
Will traded a look with Deanna, and they stared in
unison at the seemingly interminable distance which
now separated them from their shipmates.
"Commander!" It was Geordi's voice. But the
engineer remained out of their line of sight. "Are
you and the Counselor all right?"
Riker glanced backward at Deanna. "We're
okay!" He called back across the distance. "I
think.." He whispered, and he heard Deanna's wry
exhale at the comment which only she had heard.
Data came into view first. "Commander," his
unfailingly logical voice preceded him and his gaze
flicked back and forth between the rock formations.
"The next transport window will open in approximately
fifty-three minutes. We would be unable to reach
your position by conventional means before then in
any event. It is advisable that you remain as still
as possible until the Enterprise is able to obtain a
signal lock. The rock structure beneath you is
precarious. Were there to be another tremor, it
would be impossible to guarantee your safety. "
It was then that Riker realized he hadn't
released Troi's hand. Meeting her level expression,
he allowed himself a rueful smile. "Understood."
Things could have been worse. Things could have been
much worse. They had been lucky, at least. "Data,
Geordi, Doctor, I want you and your team to finish
with the collection process. There's no sense in
wasting the time we've got. The Counselor and I will
be all right, but there's four hundred people up
there on Deep Space Seven who are counting on us to
get them the vaccine they need." He glanced up and
saw Crusher's hesitation as she frowned at the
distance between them. "That's an order." Riker saw
defiance flicker in the doctor's gaze for less than a
moment before it was replaced with new purpose. She
nodded. She knew what was at stake perhaps better
than any of them did, and that would keep her on the
right side. Of that, he had no doubt.
"Aye sir." Geordi and Data turned and gestured
to the two lieutenants who stood only a short
distance behind them. They were to head back. Five
officers moved off in the direction of the caves, and
Riker exhaled slowly.
Turning towards Troi, he watched her for a
moment. "Are you okay?" He finally asked, frowning
at her uncharacteristic body language.
"I'm fine." She shrugged, visibly
straightening her posture as though she knew
precisely what had caused his question.
His eyes narrowed, but her expression had
become inscrutable, and so he backed off. "Only
fifty minutes or so. We should be out of here in no
time." She smiled and nodded. But he couldn't
shake the tickle in his chest that told him something
was wrong. "We should sit down. Data said it would
be better if we moved around as little as possible."
His eyes remained on her but she didn't protest.
He took their joined hands and guided them both
into a seated position in the center of the dusty
crag beneath them.
--o--
--------
Chapter 7
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"There are worlds beyond worlds and times beyond
times,
all of them true, all of them real, and all of them
(as children know) penetrating each other."
--P.L. Travers, author/creator of Mary Poppins
--------
"Is there enough?" Crusher pried her way past
two junior officers before she emerged within the
cave, face to face with Geordi.
"More than enough." LaForge nodded, tipping
his head in the direction of the four filled crates
they had already packaged. "But there's something I
just don't get."
"What's that?"
"Well, the Counselor said she sensed something
from these caves. The Chancellor said that there
were sentient life forms living down here, and yet we
haven't seen anything. It doesn't add up."
"The Chancellor also said that none of the
Ikerrim had ever physically encountered one of the
beings before, don't forget." Beverly brushed a
stray lock of wispy hair from her forehead. "For all
we know, they don't want to be found. And maybe
that's a good thing, given our timetable." She met
his gaze pointedly.
"I guess. Maybe you're right." The engineer
sighed.
Nodding sympathetically at his still-dubious
expression, Crusher tipped her head in the direction
of their cargo. "How about we finish getting these
crates loaded so that we can all get out of here."
LaForge afforded her a wry smile. "You got
it." He turned away from her. "Katts, Lester, can
we speed things up a little over there? We've only
got twenty minutes left.."
"Aye sir." One of the lieutenants called back.
"We're almost through with this batch."
Geordi nodded, watching as Data effortlessly
plucked one of the large titanium containers from the
floor of the cave and hoisted it over his head. He
shook his head in awe. "Listen, Doctor, I think
that-- Doctor?" He turned towards her, but she was
already facing in the other direction. Her tricorder
snapped open and she pointed it at one of the stacks
of crates they'd already set aside. "What is it?"
He moved beside her.
"I don't know. I thought I saw something
moving. Over there." Her voice was thoughtful and
she frowned. Geordi followed her gaze through the
dim artificial lighting they'd set up near the back
of the rocky enclosure.
"I don't see anything unusual. Light and heat
levels are all nominal. There's nothing out of the
ordinary."
"I'm not picking anything up, either." Beverly
thinned her lips, reluctantly lowering the instrument
in her hand. "But I could have sworn I saw something
tip the edge of that crate."
"Something...?"
"That's just it." She whispered, clearly
frustrated. "I didn't really see anything, just
movement out of the corner of my eye, and then it was
gone."
"Could just have been a shadow of the light?
We set those lamps up pretty high.."
"Yeah." Crusher nodded almost absently. Her
fingers curled around her tricorder for a moment
longer and then relaxed. "Maybe." She turned
towards Geordi with a wry smile. "I wish Deanna were
here."
"Well, she is, just not available for comment
at the moment." He smiled back. "Not for another...
seventeen minutes, at least." The engineer sighed.
"Maybe we're all just a little bit edgy."
"Geordi.." Data's voice interrupted their
thoughts, and they turned as he made his way toward
them. "This crate will be our last. I will inform
the Commander of our progress and prepare for the
transport window."
"Sounds good to me, Data. The sooner we get
out of here, the better. This place is starting to
give me the creeps." LaForge tipped the doctor a wry
smile. "Ready for takeoff?"
With one final, pointed glance behind her,
Crusher inclined her head. "Yup. Lets go."
../
--------
Chapter 8
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it
is not to dream less but to dream more,
to dream all the time."
--Marcel Proust
--------
"Deanna-" It was the second time he had called
her name. She didn't respond. Staring straight out
across the span of the canyon, he hardly saw her move
at all. "Deanna, I know something's not right. Why
won't you talk to me?" His voice was tipped with
worry this time, and she turned towards him.
"I'm fine, really." Her smile seemed genuine
enough. Still, he furrowed his brow.
"Fine? That's the third fine since we ended up
here. No offense, but you don't look fine." Her
posture betrayed the beginnings of an annoyed sigh
but he cut her off. "Honestly, that doesn't even
bother me as much as the fact that you don't *feel*
fine. I can't describe how I know this. Or what
exactly I'm feeling -- but it's definitely coming
from you and it's definitely not 'right'."
"Oh?" She seemed genuinely irritated with him
and Riker felt himself move a centimeter or two
backward when her eyes flashed. "Are you claiming to
add empathy to your long list of skills now,
Commander? Because if you'd like my job, you're more
than welcome to it."
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a
response, Deanna." He shot back. "I'm worried about
you because I care what happens to you. So before
you decide to rip my head off again, you might want
to exercise a little of that 'empathy' of yours and
realize that."
When she dropped her head and said nothing. He
drew closer to her and touched her arm gently.
"Something *is* wrong, isn't it?"
She shrugged and finally whispered, "I don't
know.."
"Well.." He swallowed audibly. "I'm not a
doctor, but can you tell me what you're feeling?"
At his question, she tipped her head upward and
shook it. "It's -- just the way you described it a
minute ago. I'm not in pain, it's not like being
'sick', really. It's that -- something isn't right.
Only I've no idea why, or what it is. My whole body
feels -- wrong." She fell silent, and Riker said
nothing, though she could feel his gaze on her.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you." She whispered.
"Hey, don't even think about it." Riker
exhaled slowly. "I don't want to belittle what
you're feeling, but -- do you think it might just be
a nervous reaction? We're all on a tight timeframe
here, and this planet isn't the most hospitable for
you in general.." He squeezed her arm gently.
Troi looked up at him, and Riker felt all the
air drain from his lungs. She shook her head.
"I don't think so, Will. Not this time."
"But you're not sick. You said you don't feel
ill.."
"I guess --" She thinned her lips. "No. Not
really. I-"
"Commander!" Data's voice interrupted them
from the other side of the rift. When Riker and
Troi turned to regard him, the android gestured at
the caves he had emerged from. "We have finished
gathering the compound. The transport window will
re-open in approximately three minutes."
"Good news Data." Riker called back. "We'll
be ready."
The android nodded and turned away and Riker
afforded another concerned glance at Deanna before
hitting his comm badge. "Riker to Crusher."
<Crusher here, is everything all right, Will?>
"I'm not sure, Doctor. I think you should see
Deanna as soon as we get back on board. Something
isn't right." His eyes remained locked with Troi's
while he spoke.
<Not right? Can you be a little more specific
than that? Is she in any pain?>
"No, she says she isn't in pain. And I'm
afraid I can't really elaborate. She doesn't know
what it is. I don't think it's an emergency, but I
think we'd all feel better if-"
<Don't mention it, Will. I would have insisted
myself. Tell her to hang in there. We should be
back on board in less than a minute.>
"Thanks Bev."
<Crusher out>
No sooner had Crusher finished speaking than
Deanna sighed softly. She glanced down at the rock
beneath their bodies and then back up at Riker.
Without thinking, he reached forward and took her
hand. Neither spoke. A few seconds later, their
bodies shimmered and vanished in the wake of a
Federation transporter beam.
../
--------
Chapter 9
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"As far as I'm concerned, the only difference
between fact and what most people call fiction
is about fifteen pages in the dictionary."
--Charles de Lint, Dreams Underfoot
--------
"Set a course for Deep Space Seven. Warp
nine." Picard uttered the order and then,
customarily, gestured with his right hand. "Engage."
The Enterprise shot forward on command,
starlight blurring into nearly psychedelic streaks as
the ship took on yet another mission. They would
have fewer than six hours to make it to Deep Space
Seven before it was too late for those affected by
the mysterious virus. The Captain pursed his lips
and sighed. Somehow, the 'big chair' didn't seem
nearly as comfortable this day as it had on other
occasions. For one thing, Commander Riker was
nowhere to be seen. As the away-team arrived
several minutes earlier, Picard's first officer had
'escorted' their Counselor to sick-bay, and there
he'd remained. With permission.
Picard tugged down on the front of his uniform
and stared at the view-screen. The kind of
conversation which he and Riker were due to have
could wait until later. With any luck -- much later.
It would be difficult enough. In many ways, he
thought of Will as family. As an officer, Commander
Riker's record was second to none. He had every
accolade and award for meritous service. And yet
within the past forty-eight hours, he had lied to his
Captain twice, and he had done so under circumstances
which might well have impacted on the wellbeing of
Starfleet.
There were certain indiscretions which could be
overlooked in the career of an officer. Certain
'small things' which any Captain would allow to
slide. But knowingly endangering a vital mission --
even though that mission might result in the loss of
a fellow officer, a comrade, a close friend ... or a
former lover -- Picard sighed audibly and glanced
around so as to assure himself that no one had been
watching. Even under such circumstances, duty
dictated that the wellbeing of the ship come first.
Or in this case, the wellbeing of four-hundred
Starfleet officers trapped in a medical isolation
ward on Deep Space Seven. Counselor Troi had
understood that risk. She had asked for the
assignment, despite the odds in favour of her own
peril. But then -- it had been only her own life
she had offered, and as disgusting as such a thought
might be, for some people, one's own life was an
easier commodity to barter than anyone else's.
Will had been forced into a decision the likes
of which most Federation officers would never have
wished -- even upon their worst enemies. The lives
of four hundred strangers, pit against the life of
one's own life partner. For Picard, there were no
further doubts. Will Riker was by the book. He was
Starfleet's poster boy because he knew how to play
the rules and bend the rules -- but he never broke
the rules in any significant way. Until this
mission. Even if his own pride had come between that
truth and the larger truth of his actions these past
two days, this scenario had declared one thing as
absolutely certain. His feelings for Deanna were
fairly obvious. If not to the Commander himself,
then certainly to his Captain.
The problem was -- how best to confront the
issue. Picard surveyed his bridge for a moment
longer before he sucked in a shallow breath and
tapped a control on his console. "Picard to Doctor
Crusher."
<Crusher here. Captain, I was just about to
page you...>
"Indeed, Doctor-"
<You'd should come down here.> Crusher's voice
was thin, and clearly professional. <Sir.>
Picard's posture straightened. "I'm on my
way."
<Crusher out.>
The Captain rose from his seat with a
perfunctory nod and made his way towards the
turbolift door. "Mr. Worf..." He exchanged a
meaningful glance with the much larger Klingon Chief
of Security. "You have the bridge.."
"Aye sir." The Klingon's acknowledgement was
brief, but his gaze remained on his Captain. He
seemed uncomfortable for a moment and then his mouth
opened once more. "Sir, I would-"
"I will keep you informed, Mr. Worf." Picard
tipped his head in affirmation and then entered the
lift. The last thing he saw as the door slid shut
before him was the uncharacteristic look of
apprehension on the face of his normally stoic chief
of security.
"Sickbay." He called, and the lift began its
descent.
--o--
--------
Chapter 10
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Do believe in fairy tales.
Hang on to the magic.
Never lose your sense of wonder and whimsy,
or you'll lose a part of your soul."
--Eulalie M. Banks
--------
"Doctor-" Picard strode into sickbay with
purpose.
"So glad you could join us." Beverly Crusher
turned from her patient and scowled at him. "*sir*"
Taken momentarily aback, Picard's eyebrows
rose. "I beg your pardon?" His gaze landed on Riker
who stood to the doctor's left, and then on Counselor
Troi, who was sliding to her feet from the biobed,
even as he entered the room. His posture relaxed
visibly upon seeing her.
"Am I to assume that the mission was a
success?" He exchanged looks with all three
officers.
"Oh yes, we'll be able to synthesize enough
vaccine for several thousand people, assuming we make
it to Deep Space Seven in time." The doctor's
response was perfunctory, but her gaze alluded to
more than was spoken.
"Mr. Data assures me that we will. Assuming
there aren't any unanticipated delays along the way."
Riker cut in. "We should arrive in roughly six
hours."
"Very good number one." Picard nodded. "And
you, Counselor, are you-?"
Deanna let out the breath she'd been holding.
She glanced first at the space between her feet on
the floor and then at her Captain. "I knew the
risks, sir." She nodded at him, and the look in her
eyes spoke far more clearly than her words had.
Picard's shocked expression shifted to Beverly,
but the doctor said nothing, choosing to break his
gaze and look away instead. His voice was level
when next he spoke. Carefully neutral. "I was under
the impression that if anything were to--happen, it
would occur very quickly..."
When his query was met with no initial
response, Deanna nodded briefly. "I'd thought so."
She glanced at Crusher. "We had thought so. But my
human heritage seems to have put -- a different spin
on things, you might say.." She kept her gaze at
level with Picard's.
He shook his head slowly. "Well then there's
hope. Isn't there? Perhaps something which-"
"No." Crusher cut him off. "Under normal
circumstances, if she were fully Betazoid, the
compound would have arrested her entire biology. As
it is, the cells in her body are degrading. But at a
much slower rate. Even with today's standard of
medical science, we can only repair living tissue
which continues to heal on its own. In Deanna's
case, the rate of degradation makes it impossible for
us to even attempt the procedure." Her gaze locked
with Picard's. "She's dying Jean-Luc. In less
than a week, she'll be gone. And there isn't a damn
thing I can do to stop it from happening."
Crusher's eyes filled, and she took a step
backward only to come in contact with Deanna, who
wrapped her arms around the other woman. "Beverly,"
she whispered.
The situation was awkward, more so than Picard
might ever have imagined. And while he searched for
the words which stalwartly refused to provide
themselves, he glanced at his first officer and saw
the younger man's obvious discomfort grow with every
passing second.
"Excuse me." Riker cleared his throat and
nodded to no one in particular. "I think I'm
probably needed ... on the bridge. I um-"
Picard nodded his assent, mutely. He watched
as Deanna threw Will a look. But Riker ignored it,
allowing his eyes to wander everywhere except her
gaze. He left the room in silence, and were it not
for the immediacy of the Doctor already in her
embrace, Picard was almost certain the Counselor
would have followed him into the corridor.
As it was, the irony of such an image descended
upon him; that she was so ill, her own body betraying
her where she stood -- but she was keeping them all
together. As always. And how could he reconcile
that with what she had already given of herself. He
was her Captain. And he hoped, her friend. How was
it then, that in the scope of such responsibility, he
had also become her executioner?
--o--
--------
Chapter 11
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Deep into that darkness peering,
long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal
ever dared to dream before."
--Edgar Allen Poe
--------
"Computer, begin recording."
Beverly Crusher tipped her body backward into
the large executive chair behind her desk. She let
her hair tumble loosely over the back of the seat,
and she took several deep breaths before speaking.
"Chief Medical Officer's Log." She paused
thoughtfully. "Our mission to the planet Ikerra was
a significant success. The Enterprise arrived at
Deep Space Seven at approximately 0730 hours and the
chemical compound was transported to facilities on
DS7 along with a medical team from the ship,
including myself. We managed to administer four
hundred and thirteen doses of the amodean vaccine to
the quarantined officers on the station. All of them
are showing signs of recovery, and it's my opinion
that we should expect the quarantine period to last
not more than another day or so. The station's
chief medical officer, Doctor Vidysn will supervise
the remainder of his patient's recovery, and my team
and I have returned to the Enterprise where we're
currently awaiting clearance for departure. Under
the circumstances, I thought it best that the rest of
the Enterprise crew be inoculated for the virus
before we leave. With a strain as virulent as this,
I don't think we can be too careful."
Crusher glanced down at her desk and trailed
off. Her hands lay on the shiny surface of the
console before her and she ran her fingertips across
it, absently.
"There's something else. A conflict of
interest I've never felt before as an officer on this
ship. The mission to Ikerra may well have had one
casualty. Our half Betazoid ship's Counselor has had
a fatal reaction to the chemical we retrieved. I
can't stop the progress of her illness, and at the
rate it's moving through her body, I would have to
guess she probably won't make it through the week. "
The doctor paused and cleared her throat softly,
collecting her thoughts.
"Symptoms at present are minimal. I might
liken them to the onset of the Cancer virus which
ravaged Earth for centuries before we found a cure.
But in this instance, the cellular degradation isn't
caused by any virulent genetic impairment. It seems
to be a direct response of her Betazoid physiology to
the amodean compound.
"I suppose this is where it becomes
complicated." Beverly exhaled slowly. "We were all
aware of the risks inherent in including her in the
mission. But without her aid, we would never have
been able to locate the chemical in significant
quantity to save the officers on Deep Space Seven.
Deanna knew that. She -- volunteered. I was against
it at first. As was Commander Riker. But she went
directly to the Captain, and he made the decision for
all of us. A decision I can't envy. He allowed
Deanna's request, for the sake of the mission and for
those four hundred lives. I suppose in retrospect,
there was no other decision for him to have made.
He's the Captain of this ship and a Starfleet
officer. As are we all. In the end, four hundred
people are alive today because of Deanna's sacrifice.
The Federation doctor in me recognizes that there was
no other choice. He had to let her do it. He had
to give the order..." Crusher trailed off, feeling
the sting of new teardrops burn in her eyes once
more. She tipped her head and blinked them away. "I
just don't know how the human part of me is going to
live without her best friend..."
* --o-- *
"Will." Jean-Luc Picard regarded his first
officer where he sat -- in the Captain's chair at the
center of the Enterprise bridge. "Number One?" He
stepped between Riker's field of vision and the view
screen at the head of the enclosure. They were on
skeleton crew for the shift between ship's dawn and
early morning. And though Commander Riker had been
scheduled to be here for the next several hours,
Picard knew that the younger man hadn't allowed
himself any rest in the past forty-eight hours at
least. Not since they'd received their latest
mission assignment.
Riker looked up slowly.
"Commander, I'll take the rest of gamma shift."
The Captain offered Will a concerned look. "You're
no good to anyone in this condition. Go and get some
rest if you can."
Will didn't respond, but he rose from his seat
to his full height and stared down at his Captain's
expression. The larger man's face was impassive,
though he refused to break eye contact with Picard.
When he hadn't moved in several moments, Picard
tipped his head and sighed. "Consider yourself
relieved for the next ten hours Commander. That's an
order."
For the briefest of moments, Picard was certain
Will was going to offer protest. But just as quickly
the look was gone and Riker merely inclined his own
head. "Sir," he spoke the word as though it were
an insult. And then he turned on his heel and left
the bridge.
Picard stood motionless. His eyes drifted
between the now-closed turbo-lift door and the empty
chair before him. And then his gaze met the
obviously discomfited expression of the young man at
the con.
"As you were, ensign." He watched with
resignation as the junior officer snapped forward and
returned his full attention to the instrument panel
beneath his hands.
--o--
--------
Chapter 12
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"If your mind is attuned to beauty,
you find beauty in everything."
--Jean Cooke
--------
The lighting in Doctor Crusher's office had
been blinking oddly. It began happening almost
precisely after she'd finished her medical log. The
cabin dimmed visibly and then came up to a brilliance
which fairly blinded her.
"Computer, optimal sickbay lighting!" Crusher
covered her eyes with one hand and squinted as the
light level fell almost to zero. That was damn
annoying, and this was a hell of a time for an
atmospheric malfunction. Beverly scowled.
"Computer, internal sensor diagnostic. Level three."
<All internal sensors are functioning normally>
The computer voice intoned.
"Oh really?" She huffed. "Then why the hell
are the lights blinking on and off?"
<Lighting in sick-bay cabin 0090 is at normal
operational levels>
"I beg your pardon?" Crusher dropped her hand
and peered into the semi-darkened room.
<Lighting in sick-bay cabin 0090 is --
"I heard you the first time. What I want to
know is how you think this is 'normal'? Normal for
whom? This isn't a cave-"
Something clattered to the floor and Crusher
rose from her seat in an instant, turning slowly
where she stood. The room was empty, and through the
small glass portal in her office, she could see two
rows of empty bio-beds lined up like soldiers in the
outer bay.
Lighting suddenly returned to normal. Her gaze
narrowed. "Computer. Life sign count in sickbay."
<There is one life sign in sick-bay>
Crusher frowned. "Right," she whispered,
turning back toward her desk. She was here alone.
Obviously.
Beverly let out the breath she'd been holding.
And then she felt a hand on her shoulder.
Her yelp of surprise was followed by her arm as
she spun around.
"Doctor-?" Her guest took two steps backward
when she nearly decked him.
"Oh--God!" She exhaled quickly. "Will, you
scared me half to death," she shook her head slowly,
regaining her equilibrium.
"Sorry.." He half smiled. "Are you all right?
You look as though-"
"I've seen a ghost." She finished for him,
offering him her own brand of wry expression.
"Honestly, I have no idea..."
"Well.." Riker glanced around the room
briefly. "Looks just like an empty room to me."
"Yeah..." She nodded. "It does," but her
speculative gaze continued to search the corners of
the enclosure one last time.
Will regarded her seriously. "Did you want us
to do a level two sensor sweep of this deck?"
She met his eyes for a moment, the thought
appealing to her more than she might have liked to
admit. "No," she finally shook her head. "I already
checked. There's nothing. Did you--did any other
deck report problems with their lighting levels a few
minutes ago?"
Riker's eyes widened slightly, but then he
shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of... why?"
Crusher sighed. "Nevermind.."
"Are you sure? I can ask Geordi to-"
"No, no. It's okay." She offered him a
contrite smile. "I think I'm just a little jumpy.
That's all."
"If you're sure. As long as you're okay.."
His concerned look began to dissipate. "I um,
actually came down here to see if-"
"I sent Deanna back to her quarters a couple of
hours ago." Crusher looked down. "She's probably
not going to show symptoms until fairly near the end,
she won't-" The doctor trailed off, and then she
felt Will's hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," she
whispered. "I need to get back to work.."
"Work?" Riker forced her to look up at him.
"There might be a way, Will. Something we're
overlooking. If I can find it-"
"Beverly.. you know that no one wants that more
than I do. But correct me if I'm wrong -- you
haven't had any sleep in the past fort-eight hours,
have you?"
"There isn't-"
"Doctor?" He cut her off, gently, his hand
still on her arm. "Don't you think you'll be able to
think more clearly if you get at least a few hours of
rest?" His eyes locked with hers. "We all want to
find a way to help Deanna, but you're sitting in your
office and things are starting to move-"
Crusher exhaled sharply and half smiled.
"Yeah. You're right. I probably do sound like I'm
about to crack-"
"Not at all." Riker offered her a sympathetic
shake of the head. "You just sound like a person
who's been working constantly for the past two days
and who needs a little down time before she can be
productive again. For everyone-"
Beverly nodded silently. "I'll tell you what.
I promise to get some rest if you'll do the same,
Commander." She saw his eyes flash, but then he
inclined his head slowly.
"It's a deal, doc."
The two of them left sickbay side by side, and
as the door slid shut behind them, the computer
within cabin 0090 beeped twice.
<Acknowledged>
The light level with Crusher's office dropped
to zero.
--o--
--------
Chapter 13
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
Did I ever tell you..
How you live in me.
Every waking moment.
Even in my dreams.
--Lara Fabian
--------
<The time is 1700 hours>
Riker opened his eyes and squinted into the
semi-darkness of his cabin. He was laying in his
bed.
<The time is 1701 hours>
"I get the point!" He groaned. "Computer,
delete reminder. One quarter lights." He lifted his
hands and ran his fingers through an unruly tangle in
his hair. 1700 hours? Why was he asleep at 1700
hours? What day was it again?
Deanna...
The thought of her slammed against his
consciousness, waking him fully while the weight of
his heart crashed into the pit of his stomach.
Deanna...
"Computer, location of Counselor Troi?" He
swallowed as he rose from a seated position and
headed toward the hygiene unit adjacent to his
bedroom.
<Counselor Troi is in the arboretum>
Riker stopped. The arboretum either meant that
she was thinking, or that she was taking a walk with
a friend ... someone who cared enough about her to
have spoken with her at all in the past nine hours.
He frowned.
Part of him realized that he had been selfish.
But it was definitely in the minority amongst his
'inner voices' this evening. In truth, he was
still so angry with her for making the decision she
had -- it was nearly impossible for him to think
about facing her. And the fact that she'd done the
only thing she could have; the only thing *he* would
have -- had he been in her place -- twisted like a
knot inside his gut. Not once had she talked it
over with anyone. Okay, with him -- not once had she
talked it over with *him*. How could she not have
cared what he thought? Or what he was feeling...
She had to have known all along that he'd fight
to keep her from doing it. And in the end, she must
also have known what she'd been asking him to accept.
Will sighed. If she were with him right now, she
would probably tell him that he was being an
insensitive jerk. Deliberately avoiding her this
way. Especially now. Beverly had already spent at
least two hours with her friend in the time since
their return from Ikerra. But the most he had done
had been to walk out of sickbay into a regular duty
assignment as though nothing was out of the ordinary.
Then he'd proceeded to spend the next nine hours
feeling sorry for himself. And now they were gone.
Nine precious hours...
Glancing around his empty suite, Riker sucked
in a breath and made a decision. He finished at the
hygiene unit and moved towards his wardrobe, pulling
on a pair of loose trousers and a civilian shirt.
With one final thought to his hair and his beard, the
Commander left his quarters, making his way
purposefully down the corridor towards the turbolift
door.
*
"I understand." Deanna spoke softly, tipping
her head affectionately against the arm of her
companion. That he was nearly three times her size
made the scene seem all the more poignant. "And in a
way, I'm even flattered." She added.
"I do not wish to see you ill." The Klingon
Chief Of Security nodded briefly. "But there is no
dishonour in the choice you have made. You have
proven yourself worthy of the next world." He
regarded her through a pair of wise eyes and she
smiled.
"Thank you. Coming from you, that means a
great deal to me." She took his hand and squeezed
it, but his gruff nod was her only acknowledgement.
It was his way, and she had always cherished the
honesty with which he lead his life.
They walked for several more meters in silence,
before Worf turned toward her and stopped. His
expression was uncertain, and so she waited patiently
for him to say whatever it was which had caused him
such mental discomfort
"Were you a Klingon, I would never ask this."
He paused as though searching for the right thing to
say. "But you are not a Klingon, and I have come to
understand you better these past several months," he
found her eyes. "I am aware that you feel things
very deeply. It would -- upset me to know that you
were frightened, and did not speak of it. Are you?"
Deanna half smiled. She stared at him
thoughtfully. "A little. Yes," she admitted,
feeling closer to him for the gesture than she ever
thought she might have. "I think I've made peace
with my decision, but apart from a small measure of
discomfort, I really don't *feel* ill right now. And
I don't think anyone is ever ready for the knowledge
that their life has suddenly shortened, considerably.
The rational part of me knows that there's something
bigger -- out there. But another part of me is still
frightened by that truth. Very frightened." She
swallowed and allowed her head to drop.
Worf said nothing, but she could feel his gaze
still on her. And then his hand against her
shoulder. "You are brave, Deanna." His gaze
implored her to look up at him. "And you are not
alone."
Her eyes filled with teardrops and she went to
him, allowing his arms to fold around her ... to keep
her safe. At least for now...
*
As the doorway to the arboretum slid open,
Riker found himself standing in its frame, watching
from a distance as two lovers held one another close.
He stood there for several silent moments, unable to
move. And then the most irrational thought entered
his mind. Her body was so small compared to
Worf's... He exhaled slowly and tore his gaze away.
Turning instead, he left through the same doorway he
had arrived in.
The panel slid shut behind him, and Deanna's
head lifted from Worf's shoulder. She stared through
her tears at the empty pathway near the door -- and
then she shut her eyes.
--o--
--------
Chapter 14
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Some things have to be believed to be seen."
--Ralph Hodgson
--------
Standing before her vanity mirror, Deanna
peered at the reflection which stared back at her.
She looked ... just as she had the day before. And
the day before that. Perhaps a few more dark circles
under her eyes. One or two at the most. But they
weren't really that noticeable.. were they? Her hand
extended and her fingertips traced the outline of her
reflection. Maybe...
She had been reaching for her hairbrush when
the light in her cabin flickered twice and went dark.
Her arm dropped back to her side and she turned to
glance behind her.
"Who's there?" Her gaze scanned the interior
of the livingspace, but there was nothing. Nothing
visible, at least. Light filled her cabin once
more.
"Computer, how many occupants are there in my
quarters?"
<There is one occupant in cabin 0910>
Troi tipped her head and held it for a moment.
"No .. there are two." Slowly creeping backward,
Deanna felt the cool pressure of a wall brush against
her blouse. "Who are you?" she called again,
glancing from one corner of the room to the other.
There was nothing out of place. "I know that you're
in here."
No sooner had she spoken than the cabin was
plunged into darkness once more. Deanna's hand flew
to the badge which lay on a chair next to her; atop
her discarded uniform.
"Troi to Crusher.."
The COMM signal opened. She felt a whisper of
motion next to her body -- and then everything went
black.
*
She woke to the sound of voices. Muffled at
first, she was aware of only simple sounds, some
animated and others hushed. When her eyes would not
immediately open, her mind drifted forward, trying to
ascertain the source of the audio with little
success.
She was aware of two presences. One was
distinctly Beverly Crusher, the other ... her mental
senses swam into focus. The other was Will. She was
sure of that, now. But what they were talking about
remained elusive to her. Their words hovered
someplace just out of reach; taunting her through a
thick fog which blunted all of her physical senses.
With an audible groan, she shifted, attempting
to open her eyes; finding even the slightest movement
to be a Herculean task. Her limbs might as well have
been made of titanium, and despite her most ardent
attempts at motion, her head lay limply above her
shoulders as though it had been wrapped in cotton and
soaked with warm water.
Though her surroundings continued to filter
through the sludge of semi-consciousness, she knew
she had made a sound; she recognized the shift in the
emotions of her colleagues in the instant that she
spoke, an irrefutable indicator that they'd become
aware of her struggle towards full cognizance.
"She's coming to." Beverly's voice sounded
hollow, a blunt echo from inside a tunnel, someplace
far away. Deanna forced her eyes open just a
crack, allowing the harsh light of what she assumed
to be sick-bay to spill between her lids until it
burned her sensitive gaze. Bright shadows moved
across her narrow field of vision, blurry afterimages
with trails of white and orange fuzz which grew less
and less pronounced as she blinked to adjust.
"What-" Her voice broke as she forced her
mouth to wrap around the word; her tongue was dry and
difficult to move. She wet her lips as best she
could and swallowed. "Happened." She knew she
sounded odd, even to her own ears, but things were
growing clearer now. Her body moved in response to
her mental command, and she felt the muscles in her
neck work painfully when she tried to turn her head.
"Deanna, can you tell me where you are?" A
concerned doctor Crusher pressed a hypo-spray against
the Counselor's neck and it hissed obediently,
dispensing an immediate sense of relief to the
empath.
"Sickbay?" Was all Deanna could manage. She
felt her friend's relief, and more profoundly, that
of the man beside her, whose emotions had gone from
nervous anticipation to a deep abiding gratitude
which seemed directed primarily towards the doctor.
"Yes. That's good. Oh, Dea, you gave us such
a scare. We weren't sure you were going to pull
through this time." Crusher laid her hand against
the Counselor's forehead and gently brushed back her
hair.
"This-time?" Deanna blinked with finality,
forcing her gaze to adjust to the light above her
before focusing on the other woman.
"Given the circumstances," Crusher offered her
a look which was at once both reassuring and
sympathetic. "Can you tell us what happened? Do you
remember?"
The empath shook her head. "I remember -- I
called you on the COMM, and then -- " She trailed
off, frowning when the memory went black.
"I found you in your quarters about three
minutes later. You'd passed out. You were laying on
the floor.." Will Riker's voice spoke up, and she
could feel him as he stepped up by her bed.
"There was something-- I sensed something-"
Deanna felt Will's arm as he slid it behind her,
helping her into a seated position.
"Do you know what it was?" He asked softly,
standing directly beside her. She could feel the
warmth of his body supporting her and she longed to
allow herself simply to rest against it for a while.
She was tired, so very tired all of a sudden.
"No.." She murmured drowsily. "I don't-"
"It's okay." He pulled her gently toward him
and she gratefully accepted the gesture, laying her
head against the side of his chest. She closed her
eyes.
Beverly sighed. "Well--under normal
circumstances I'd probably want to keep you here for
observation, but aside from the obvious, nothing has
changed in your condition." Her words hung in the
air for a few eternal moments while none of them
spoke. "So I guess, it's up to you. I can take you
back to your quarters, or you can stay here. But I'd
prefer that someone sit with you for at least an hour
or so, and keep an eye on you. I'll just need to
grab a few things from here and-"
Will's sudden glance in her direction belayed
the rest of Beverly's sentence. "Or-" Her eyes
locked with the Commander's. "If Will doesn't mind
staying with you for a couple of hours, he could
also..."
"I don't need a babysitter." Deanna muttered
from beneath the arms which now held her. As though
she had only just realized whose arms they were. She
pushed away from them half heartedly. Riker released
her gently, his lips curled into a knowing smile
which she scowled at.
"No arguments Counselor." Beverly reproached
without a hint of avarice. "Doctor's orders. You
can go back to your place with a chaperone for an
hour or two, or you can stay right here. Your
choice."
Troi bit down on her lower lip dramatically and
exhaled an exasperated breath of air. "Fine," she
whispered. "Lets go.." She turned to the Commander
who extended his arm to help her down from the bio-
bed.
"I'm fine," She muttered, shoving his arm in
the other direction.
"Okay-Okay-" He raised both hands in a
defensive posture and backed away from her as she
came to her feet. Marching in the direction of the
corridor beyond, Deanna turned at the doorway just in
time to watch as Riker traded a shrug with Crusher.
Her scowl deepened.
"Are you coming, or not?"
"Yes ma'am." He tried to smile at her, but she
turned away once more. The two of them started for
her quarters, single file.
--o--
--------
Chapter 15
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"To dream well, one must be capable of true awareness
when awake."
--Charles de Lint, Svaha
--------
Deanna sat on the couch in her quarters and
hadn't said anything in nearly half an hour. Will
stood near her replicator, his gaze drifting across
the room, lighting on several of the objects which he
was able to recognize -- some of which had been
gifted to her by him. Others of which he knew to be
distinctly Betazoid in origin. In a strange way, it
seemed odd to him that he should only now be taking
stock of just how much 'stuff' she had amassed over
the years. Did everyone collect this many items
during the course of a lifetime and just never
realize it? His thoughts drifted from trinkets to
treasures, and then to her...
"You know, the moment you stop feeling sorry
for yourself, might actually be the moment we're able
to talk about this." He heard her voice from the
center of the room and nearly jumped, having become
accustomed to the silence she had offered him since
their entry.
"Yeah, well," he took several steps in her
direction and then stopped, "deal with it," he
shrugged. "Why should I care about your feelings?
You obviously didn't give a damn about mine." He
could almost hear her gasp.
"How can you even say something like that-?"
"I just did," he shot back mercilessly.
"That is so unfair.."
"So is life, apparently."
"Fine. Have it your way." Her voice carried
out into the room and was enveloped by the ensuing
silence between them.
"You should get some rest." Riker changed the
subject.
"I'm not tired anymore." She shrugged,
allowing her gaze to shift from where it had been --
fixed on a painting across the room for the past
thirty minutes.
"Whatever." Riker shook his head. "Maybe we
should just page Worf and get him down here. You'd
probably rather see him anyway. I'm sorry I
bothered you..." He moved towards her doorway but
her voice belayed his progress.
"What-?" She turned to him incredulously.
"You're leaving again? Just like that?" and then her
voice grew quiet. "Fine, go. Page whomever you'd
like. Actually, get Beverly in here if you can. I
could use a friend right about now, and I seem to be
in fairly short supply at the moment."
Riker froze dead in his tracks. "What did you
say?"
Deanna rose to her feet. "I asked you to get
Beverly in-"
"I heard that part." He turned. Their eyes
met and held. "The rest of it --"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do
you care?"
"Oh, I don't know--" He snapped,
sarcastically. "Maybe because you and I have known
one another for going on seventeen years now. Maybe
because you've been closer to me than anyone I have
ever known. Maybe because you're my--you're--" His
mouth stopped working when he realized what he had
been about to say.
Deanna, on the other hand, wasn't ready to let
the matter drop so easily. She cocked her head and
threw him an expectant look. "I'm-?"
"I don't want to fight with you." He
whispered, dropping his gaze.
"Damn you! That wasn't what you were going to
say!" She came at him and slammed into the front of
his chest with both fists, sending him staggering
backward for purchase. He took her wrists in both of
his hands and held them gently. And though their
eyes met and held, Riker remained silent. "Why
can't you say it? What difference does it make
anymore whether you say it or not..." She trailed
off miserably, almost to the point of frustrated
teardrops, though she blinked them back valiantly.
And then she relaxed in his grasp, and he released
her wrists without comment.
"I saw you in the arboretum this afternoon." He
glanced at the floor. "You looked -- --lost. I
wanted to talk, I guess. But then I realized you
weren't alone.."
She shook her head, her expression almost one
of confusion. "I was with Worf. He came to my
quarters and asked me to come out for a walk with
him."
"Yeah, well, I didn't want to interrupt." He
shrugged.
"You could have come inside." She shook her
head. "You should have told us you were there.
There was a moment when I felt-" Her eyes rose to
meet his. "Something."
He exhaled sharply. "Something. That's as
good a way as any of putting it, I guess."
She didn't respond.
"Were you going to leave with him?" Riker
finally asked the question he'd been dreading for so
long. Expelled it with a breath of air so that it
tumbled from his lips all at once. "You never did
answer me. I know it's none of my business, but as
long as we're being honest. I guess I've been
wondering... would you have gone to Deep Space Nine,
if things had turned out -- differently?"
For a time, Deanna said nothing at all. But
then she finally did speak. "I think you should go."
He regarded her where she stood.
"It's been over an hour now. I think we both
know I'll be all right; for tonight at least. And I
don't want you here when I wake up." Her gaze never
wavered from his, and he could see the hurt in her
eyes as clearly as though it were his own.
He swallowed and nodded slowly. "I guess I
deserve that," but his own pride would not allow him
to apologize. "You know where to find me if you need
-- anything." He moved to her doorway and she turned
away from him.
"Yeah." Her voice was quiet.
The door panel slid open for him and he stepped
through it, casting one final glance inside. Her
back was toward him, but he could see her shoulders
moving very slightly, and he knew she was crying.
"Goodnight, Deanna." He whispered into the
empty space. He wanted to go to her. More than
anything he'd wanted in such a very long time; he
wanted to fold her into his arms and tell her that
everything was going to be okay; that she was safe,
and would be fine. But most of all, he wanted to
tell her just how much he loved her. Cherished her
with every desperate fiber of his soul. And that was
the one thing he couldn't allow himself to do. Not
then -- and not now. So there it was. And though
he cursed himself for the failure, he still turned on
his heel, allowing her door to slid shut behind him,
solidifying a barrier which had never seemed so
powerful.
--o--
--------
Chapter 16
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Why shouldn't truth be stranger than fiction?
Fiction, after all, has to make sense."
--Mark Twain
--------
"Come." Picard raised his gaze from the screen
he'd been studying and regarded the entry to his
ready-room.
"Sir." Riker acknowledged his superior with a
perfunctory nod. He moved into the room but stood at
a distance, well beyond the boundary of his normally
confiding stance. "You asked to see me."
"Yes, I did." Picard examined his first officer
thoughtfully. "I think we both know why you're
here."
"Yes sir."
"And the type of conversation we're somewhat
overdue in having.." The older man continued. He
folded his hands on the desk before him and said
nothing for several moments. A state of affairs
which had precisely the uncomfortable effect he'd
been hoping for. "Misconduct," he began in a
monotone voice, "insubordination, concealing
imperative knowledge from your Captain which may have
brought undue harm to this ship and her crew-"
"I beg your pardon sir, but I don't believe I
was the one who endangered any of the crew on this
ship-" Riker took a step forward but Picard ignored
him, continuing instead without pause.
"I do have one question for you, however."
Riker clamped his mouth shut and threw the
other man a look. "And that might be...?"
"Why." It was simple. One word. Picard
proceeded to lean backward in his chair, awaiting a
response. Only it never came. "Number One?"
Riker's look of pure venom was almost enough to
unnerve the more seasoned officer when his gaze
finally lifted and locked with Picard's. But then
his posture betrayed him and the Commander shifted
where he stood. He was silent for some time.
"I thought there might have been some other
way. Something we were overlooking. Anything-" He
spoke so quietly that the Captain had to lean forward
in order to hear him.
"That doesn't explain your keeping Counselor
Troi's situation from me, Commander. Doctor Crusher
I can understand a little more readily. Her first
duty has always been to her patients, regardless of
what I tell her.." Picard paused at the thought and
almost smirked wryly. "But you Will, are my first
officer. I rely on you to keep the well-being of
this ship and of Starfleet foremost in your heart at
all times. I've never once had that trust placed in
jeopardy -- until now."
Riker dropped his gaze but remained silent.
"I'm aware of that, sir. I also knew that you would
allow her to join the away-team."
"How." Picard leaned forward once more. "How
could you have known what I would say?"
"Because-" Riker found himself cornered in the
logic-trap almost as quickly as he allowed his own
voice to form a response. "I would have made the
same decision in your place." He exhaled slowly. "I
let my personal feelings cloud my objectivity as a
Starfleet officer. I know that, too. And I'm
prepared to accept whatever responsibility my actions
may have warranted."
"It's not as simple as that, Commander!"
Picard rebuked. "The position you have placed me in
is extremely untenable. If I place this incident
on record, you will have a black mark on an otherwise
immaculate service. Are you aware of the
ramifications which go along with that?" He shook
his head and didn't wait for a response. "Likewise,
if I choose to ignore what happened, I will have to
live with the knowledge that I cannot, in good
conscience, place my trust in you as I had until now-
"
"Sir, I-"
"I'm not finished, Commander." The Captain
pinned his junior with a sharp look. His voice
softened when he saw that Riker hadn't moved an inch
from where he stood. "Will-- I know this isn't easy
for you But I'm not certain you fully realize the
position you have forced upon me.."
"Forced upon 'you'?" Riker smirked. "You're
right. I don't see anyone 'forcing' you to do
anything, sir. You're the Captain of this ship." He
looked away in disgust.
Picard's expression remained impassive. "For
what it's worth, Commander, I spend every minute of
every day going over our options down there." Picard
trailed off, staring out of one of the portals in his
cabin. "I just don't see that that there was any
other way for us to gather what we needed for the
vaccine in time. Counselor Troi was aware of that
fact."
"Yes!" Riker rounded on him. "*Counselor*
Troi was aware of that fact. *Counselor* Troi knew
exactly what she was offering; knew all about duty
and sacrifice and Starfleet," he spat, bitterly.
"But what about Deanna Troi? What about the woman
who's given the better part of her adult life to the
service of Starfleet and to the people on this ship?
Was she aware? Or does Starfleet even give a damn
when we aren't wearing their precious rank insignia?"
Picard's eyes widened at the younger man's
outburst, but he refused to be goaded. "You, better
than perhaps most, are aware of the blurring which
occurs between the lines of duty and personal
responsibility. Deanna gave her life to save four
hundred others. I don't think there is an 'easy'
way to cope with something such as this. But the
decision was hers to make."
"She asked for your permission." Will stared
back at him, his eyes dark. And then shook his head.
"I may even understand the reason why, but I still
can't forgive you for giving that order, sir. Not
yet." He held the older man's gaze. "And if you
feel that makes me a liability to this ship, or to my
commission, then you're welcome to relieve me of
either."
Picard sighed deeply. "That makes you human,
Will. And I'm not interested in your resignation. I
am, however, relieving you of duty for the next six
days."
"What the hell is that going to accomplish?"
"The woman you're in love with is *dying*
Commander." The older man frowned. "Don't you think
you've wasted enough time?"
"I beg your pardon, sir," Riker sputtered,
"but my relationship with Deanna is none of your
business..."
"She's dying, Will." Picard repeated
seriously.
"I know that!" He yelled back. "Don't you
think I know that?" His gaze shifted from the floor
to the cabin portal and then back to Picard, who
remained infuriatingly calm.
"Do you also know that I think of you as
family, Will? As I do a very few others aboard this
ship."
"Then stay the hell out of my personal life!"
Riker shot back, shaking his head. "God knows the
rest of my so called 'family' does that well enough."
Picard thinned his lips. "I would never
presume to tell you what to do with your personal
life, Will. But I want you off my bridge, and out of
uniform for the next week at least. What you choose
to do with your time during that period is up to you.
But that is an order, Commander." The Captain nodded
curtly and Riker simply stood there mutely. He stood
there until the Captain returned to the screen on his
desk, pointedly ignoring the fierce glare directed
upon him. Until the Commander finally turned on his
heel and marched from the room without another word.
"Dismissed..." Picard whispered the
afterthought. But his eyes remained plied to the
console he was reading.
--o--
/
--------
Chapter 17
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world,
the master calls the butterfly."
--Richard Bach
--------
"What are you drinking?" Riker slid along the
side of the bar until he was next to the beautiful
young woman who had taken a seat adjacent to him.
The lights in ten-forward were dim, and the chrono on
the far wall read someplace between dawn and early
ship's morning.
His new companion glanced up coyly and smiled.
"What's it to you?"
She had a point. He thought about it for a
minute and then made up his mind. "I'm looking for
something different," he shrugged.
"Really." She cocked her head and then raised
one eyebrow. "How different?"
"Very different." He flashed her one of his
signature grins. "You're not Starfleet, are you?"
She laughed. "How could you tell? I'm a
botanist, actually. I'm stationed here as civilian
compliment. But I certainly do know who you are,
Commander."
Riker continued to smile as he extended his
arm. "Out of uniform? I don't know whether to feel
flattered or worried." He paused when she took his
offered hand and shook it. "Join me for a drink?
The next round's on me."
She seemed to contemplate for a time, and then
he saw her nod. "Sure. Why not." Sliding from her
chair, she allowed him to take her arm and lead her
across the room toward a table near the back of the
lounge.
*
"I can't sleep, Beverly. That doesn't mean I
need to be with people." Deanna argued, frowning in
consternation at her friend's smiling face.
"Well look at it this way, you're the one who
called me -- and I was on my way to ten forward
anyway. Why not come along for company? You might
actually enjoy yourself."
Deanna chewed her lower lip for a moment and
then looked up. "Okay." She smiled back. "You're
right. Why waste a moment?"
Crusher's smile faltered slightly, but she
recovered quickly. "That's the spirit. And just
think, we can probably convince Guinan to make you
that incredible chocolate-"
"Ohh, gods -- what are we waiting for?" Troi
grinned, preceding the doctor into the hallway
outside her quarters.
Beverly smirked. "I thought you might say
that."
*
"I've been on board about three years now, give
or take. I was stationed on Earth, near the equator
for the previous seven years. It was time for a
change." Riker's companion smiled up at him through
a pair of large green eyes.
"Don't you miss it?" Will leaned across the
table with interest. In fact, he was interested, and
not only in the obviously attractive woman who sat at
his table. It had been some time since he had been
back to Earth for any length of time. And finding
the opportunity to discuss the beauty of his home
planet was always inspiring for him. There had to be
a reason he was up here, after all. That nebulous
'something' he was searching for. Or maybe it was
someone. He cleared his throat and shoved the
thought aside. "I remember only once, visiting a
tropical rain forest near the equator. It was
incredible." His eyes dove into hers.
"Yes!" She nodded emphatically, "there's
really nothing which compares to the majesty of those
trees."
"Well," he grinned, "almost nothing."
Her gaze widened, and a slow smile crept into
her expression.
*
As they approached the open doorway to ten
forward, Beverly came up short and turned around.
Standing between Troi and the entrance, she suddenly
shook her head. "You know something, I'm really not
in the mood for food after all. How about we check
into the holodeck for a bit?"
"What?" Deanna regarded her curiously. "You
were the one who insisted we come here, Beverly."
"I know." Crusher shrugged noncommittally. "I
just -- changed my mind, that's all. We always end
up in ten forward. Lets do something different
tonight for a change. Okay?"
Deanna narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Uh uh.
It's more than that. You're nervous about something.
What are you hiding from me?"
Sighing loudly, Beverly shook her head and
moved toward her friend, taking her by the shoulders
and turning her into the corridor -- back the way
they'd come. "Honestly, Deanna, it's nothing.
What's wrong with the holodeck?"
"Nothing. Except that Will's in ten forward,
and you don't want me to see him for some reason."
Beverly stopped short. Her expression was one
of surprise. Empathy was a well established trait
of the Counselor's, but this level of inference
stretched well above and beyond the scope of such
ability. Crusher's curious look met up with Troi's
knowing one.
"Beverly." Deanna smiled tolerantly. "I know
that Will's in there, because I can sense that much
is true. The rest of it I just guessed. All you did
was confirm it."
Crusher sighed and dropped her gaze.
"What? What *is* it with you? What is so
terrible about-?" Turning where she stood, Troi
found herself staring into the dimly lit lounge,
directly across the room. Her eyes picked up a
slow-dancing couple, intimately entwined and kissing
very passionately.
It was Will, and it was -- someone else. Lirel
Wells, one of the arboretum botanists. Yes, that was
who the other woman was. Deanna stood frozen,
watching in what seemed to be almost paradoxically
slow motion as the couple's familiar clinch became
increasingly intimate with every passing moment.
Perhaps it was ironic, but the first thought which
entered her mind had been an almost humorous sense of
surprise. She certainly hadn't sensed such
excitement from Will before she'd turned around. And
yet there they were -- clearly.
Momentarily, Deanna found herself back in the
present and she cleared her throat softly, turning
until her eyes met up with Beverly's. She managed
a small smile. "It was very sweet of you to consider
my feelings that way, Bev... but really, you should
know better than anyone that Will and I are not more
than friends."
Crusher wrinkled her nose and frowned. "Are
you sure you're okay with this?" Her expression
shifted to one of concern and Deanna afforded her a
wry smirk.
"Believe me." She shrugged offhandedly. "I've
seen a lot worse.."
Awarded with a short burst of laughter from the
doctor, Troi gestured toward the entryway once more.
"Shall we? I believe you and I had made an extremely
important appointment -- with chocolate. And such
things must be taken very seriously."
"If you're sure." Beverly asked once more.
"When have I ever not been sure about
chocolate...?" Troi took her friend's arm.
Together, she and Crusher made their way towards the
bar -- just as Riker and his companion moved in the
opposite direction. Oblivious to their entrance,
the couple walked arm in arm -- out of the lounge and
into the corridor beyond.
As they rounded the corner of the doorway,
Deanna threw them a backward glance. But only
once.
--o--
--------
Chapter 18
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"No amount of planning
will ever replace dumb luck."
--------
Beverly smiled wryly at Guinan when she
approached the bar. The hostess cleared away an
empty dish of ice-cream which the doctor and Deanna
had been sharing.
"Doctor." Guinan smiled back; a familiar
variation of her always enigmatic expression. "Long
night? I see you've been deserted." She gestured at
the empty seat which had formerly belonged to Troi
and wrinkled her nose affectionately. "No pun
intended."
"Of course not." Crusher chuckled. "And
you're right. I have been deserted. By my best
friend no less! I suppose I can forgive her though,
she's exhausted and more than overdue for a good
night's rest."
"Mmm." Guinan nodded. "The curse of
mortality."
"What's that?" Crusher threw the El'Aurian a
curious look; unable to reconcile such a thoughtless
remark with what she already knew of Guinan's
otherwise observant countenance.
"I'm sorry. You misunderstood me." The
hostess corrected. "I was referring to sleep. It's
one of those annoying 'things' we're all required to
find time for, regardless of whatever else we'd
rather be doing."
"Oh. Right." Crusher inclined her head. That
certainly made a lot more sense in context. "I
suppose. It's just that in Deanna's case it-" she
trailed off, suddenly aware of what she'd been about
to say. Guinan merely inclined her head
impassively.
"It's never easy, losing someone that we love,"
the El'Aurian sighed. "By human standards, there are
some who might say that I've lived a few lifetimes
already. Maybe that makes me qualified to admit that
the beginning is never easy for those of us left
behind."
"The beginning?"
"The start or the finish. In many ways,
they're interchangeable, aren't they?" Guinan tipped
her head and regarded the doctor wisely.
Crusher dropped her gaze. "I really hadn't
thought about it, frankly."
"Ah." The El'Aurian frowned thoughtfully and
plucked a short length of string from a shelf beneath
her bar. "But what about this length of twine?" She
held it up.
"What about it?" Beverly shrugged.
"Well, if I hold it this way," extending it
from tip to tip between her hands, she snapped it
taut. "It looks like there's a beginning," she held
one tip higher than the other, "and an ending. But
if I hold it this way," her hands came together and
the string hung between them, fastened in a loop by
her fingertips at each tip. "Who's to say which 'end'
is really the 'beginning'?"
"Or maybe they're both just a couple of ends."
Beverly reached out and tapped the dip in the circle
with one finger. It swung back and forth slowly.
"The start or the finish." Guinan nodded
slowly. "Either way, we lose a friend. But we gain
-- an understanding."
"I'd rather keep the friend." Crusher thinned
her lips.
"I know." Guinan managed a small smile.
"There it is again. The curse of mortality."
Crusher opened her mouth and might have said
something more, but the lights behind the bar blinked
suddenly and then cut out, plunging their quarter of
ten forward into darkness.
"Now, that's odd.." Beverly heard the
El'Aurian mutter. The lights flickered on and then
off again several more times.
"Crusher to-" Beverly tapped the badge at her
chest but Guinan placed her hand on the doctor's arm
and shook her head. The hostess glanced slowly
around the bar area, her gaze lighting on every empty
chair until it returned to Crusher.
"Now what do you suppose would do something
like that?" The El'Aurian tipped her head curiously.
"A computer malfunction, that's what. We've
had several of them in the past two days. One the
other night in my office. I think I am going to take
Will up on his offer and have Geordi do a level two
diagnostic. Something's definitely going on with
those systems." She frowned.
"Except that these lights," Guinan gestured
behind her at the tiny circular plates which had
flickered on and off "-are part of the same circuit
as those," she pointed a meter or so along the bar.
"And I don't recall seeing those ones go off at all.
Do you?"
Crusher's brow wrinkled. "Honestly, I didn't
look. I'm no engineer, but that's not possible is it?
Are you sure?"
The hostess said nothing, merely tipped her
head once more. And Crusher suddenly glanced behind
her, out into the dimness of the empty lounge.
--o--
--------
Chapter 19
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"What a strange illusion it is to
suppose that beauty is goodness."
--Leo Tolstoy
--------
The third in a string of small clay pots
shattered into a billion pieces against the wall of
her quarters. Deanna Troi reached down another time,
extracting number four from a shelf which contained
nearly two dozen.
It felt good. Damn good, as a matter of fact.
And from the standpoint of a woman who had only very
rarely resorted to such -- physical -- means of
venting, Deanna found that her gratification grew
exponentially with each broken vessel. One for each
act of 'unfairness' which life had dealt to her. And
she hadn't even come to the part about Will Riker
yet. Her gaze shifted from the pot in her hand to a
five foot ceramic vase which stood in the corner of
the room. Not even close... her lip curled into a
smirk and she let the tiny object fly.
*
His arms encircled her waist, pulling her slim
body flush with his. Riker devoured her as though
she were prey and he were a hunter; kissing her
fiercely, breathlessly, until there was nothing more
in him to think of but to posses her. Her moans of
encouragement spurred him onward, and his hands
boldly explored the contour of her body beneath her
clothes. It was warm and feminine. Real and
responsive.
Unfamiliar.
Their lips parted with an audible popping noise
and they were both breathing harshly. She stood up
against the wall just inside the door to his
quarters, a position they'd fallen into almost the
moment she'd come inside with him. His hands on
either side of her head, he shut his eyes and
continued to breath.
Part of it was perfect. Wonderful, visceral,
just what he wanted. Not what he needed. His eyes
slid open and he saw the darkness in her gaze. The
passion. He had taken her this far, and now she
wanted more... and so did he.
So why was it so goddamned hard to kiss her?
His body cried out in frustration, the intensity of
it nearly reaching his vocal cords. Only he
channeled it into his fist instead, pounding on the
wall above her head. She yelped in surprise and he
pushed backward, shoving away from her and staggering
into the darkened room behind them. He mumbled
something unintelligible.
"Wh-what?" He heard her ask quietly from where
she'd remained. Her arms pulled the edges of her
open blouse closed in front and he knew she was
looking at him, even though he couldn't see her face.
"I'm sorry.." He repeated, surprising himself
with the level tone he was able to manage. "I just--
it's not you."
There was a moment of pause, and then she
hissed at him. "You're damn right it's not me." Her
body moved forward. "What the hell was that?"
He mumbled something else, shaking his head.
"Wrong? Did you say wrong?"
"Look, I don't know how else to apologize-"
His voice cut out when he realized that he hadn't
even asked her name.
She exhaled sharply. "Right."
"I'm sorry." He repeated awkwardly.
"Forget it." She whispered back. "Just forget
it." Taking up the task of re-buttoning her blouse,
she pressed the doorplate to his quarters.
Riker winced as the harsh light of the corridor
flooded his field of view, but he followed her to the
doorway, leaning against it while she stepped out
into the hall. "You have every right to be angry, I
don't even know what I was thinking. It was selfish,
and I should never have teased you that way-"
She glared at him. "You know something? How
about we just forget that any of this ever happened,"
and then threw him a look borne more of humiliation
than of challenge. He nodded mutely and dropped his
gaze.
Turning where she stood, Riker's guest managed to
take only three steps before she realized that there
was someone else in the hallway. Standing in
uncomfortable astonishment to the scene which she had
undoubtedly just witnessed, Lirel Wells found herself
face to face with Counselor Troi. It was obvious
that the Counselor had overheard the tail end of
their conversation completely by accident, but there
was an intense instant of awkwardness that seemed to
last forever even so.
The young botanist blushed furiously. Sliding
the last two buttons closed on her blouse, she
cleared her throat softly and managed a nod in the
direction of the other woman.
"I um-" She glanced away from Troi. "-was just
on my way." And then she nearly ran. Sprinting down
the corridor toward the turbolift at the end of the
hall, she didn't even hear it when Deanna called her
name, begging her to stop.
--o--
--------
Chapter 20
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Free your heart from your mind.
Embrace wonder for one moment without
the need to consider how that wonder came
to be, without the need to justify if it
be real or not."
--Charles de Lint
--------
Liriel disappeared within the lift at the end
of the corridor and Deanna turned where she stood.
Caught in an almost surreal sense of slow-motion, her
eyes scanned the hallway where the young woman had
only just been. She had broken every clay pot in
her quarters save one, and it was carrying the last
of the tiny fragile objects in her hand that she had
finally left her cabin -- livid with life in general.
Her anger had turned into shock when the door
to Will's quarters slid open, revealing a mortified
young woman and a profusely apologetic Commander.
She had remained where she stood, frozen in place;
unable to move and unwilling to add to the
awkwardness of the situation. She shouldn't have
been there at all -- but she was. And so she watched
with an almost morbid sense of fascination as Liriel
yanked her blouse shut and spun around.
The fact that something had been going on
between the botanist and the Commander was a given.
She had seen as much when the two had left ten
forward, actively engaged in an obviously romantic
clinch. But something had gone wrong along the way.
Something had caused Will Riker to send the young
woman stumbling mortified from his cabin. And
based solely on the strength and focus of the emotion
which she'd sensed from Liriel just now, Deanna was
apt to conclude that it hadn't been the young woman
herself who had called off their evening.
Troi exhaled slowly, collecting her thoughts.
She had been livid with Will beforehand. And if she
were honest with herself, also jealous and even a
little bit hurt. She hadn't known the young
botanist very well, but she knew Will well enough to
know what he had planned for the young woman this
night. There wasn't a single doubt in her mind as
to the reason why. It was in consideration of
those plans that the Counselor had been very inclined
to have it out with the Commander, once and for all -
- company or no company.
That was before any of this had happened. And
now he would have an excuse. Some cocky, self
assured reason why things hadn't quite 'worked out'
as planned. Something which she, as a friend, would
be forced to accept and to shrug at. Her jaw
clenched shut and her eyes grew dark.
Not this time.
She raised her gaze once more, knowing full
well he was staring directly at her. She willed
herself to catch the full brunt of his 'excuse'
before it left his lips, and then to let him know
precisely what she thought of him. That he was
acting like an egotistical, self serving,
unimaginable bastard...
Deanna met his eyes across the hallway, armed
with a ready remark. Her mouth slid open -- and she
found herself robbed of the ability to breathe.
The anger she had nurtured fell through her as though
it were melting. She felt it glide along her body
like water, dripping away and collecting in an
invisible pool at her feet.
He was standing in the doorway to his quarters,
watching her with an almost haunted expression;
intense and distant. But it wasn't even that which
caused her pause. It was the way he was feeling;
immutable emptiness and despair. It seemed as
though it would slice through the energy of her soul
and leave her lost forever. The full force of it
slammed into her senses and left her trembling from
the impact.
Her eyes searched his, but he seemed to be
looking through her, past her, at something which
wasn't even there. He was looking at nothing. And
that was when it hit her that what he was feeling had
as little to do with her presence as his feelings
had. They were focussed on 'nothing' because they
had everything to do with her absence. That was why
he hadn't spoken all this time. Why he'd stared at
her without uttering a word.
"Will-?" She took a step forward, trying to
recapture the light in his expression. He knew she
was there, he'd almost turned away from her just
then. But he hadn't. And so she took another step
forward, and then another. "Don't do this, Will."
Her eyes filled. "Please." She placed her hand
against the side of his face and then he did turn his
head, away from her. "You bastard. I'm not gone
yet!" She cried out, shoving him backward into his
cabin. "I'm still here! And don't you dare let me go
until it's over!"
He dropped his head and turned away from her,
deliberately facing in the other direction. His eyes
pressed shut and she could see his body moving at the
shoulders. "I'm sorry.." She heard him whisper.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry..."
She watched his back and couldn't move. Large,
angry teardrops fell unbidden from her eyes and she
shook her head. "I'm not."
"I didn't think it would be this ... hard. I
feel like-"
"I love you."
She uttered the words and then cringed at the
pain she felt from him in answer. It felt, to her,
as though she'd stabbed him in the heart.
"I know." He whispered.
"No, I don't think you do." Deanna came
forward and placed her hand against his back. "We've
said those words before, you and I, a few times in
our lives. But more recently, we've spoken them to
one another as friends..."
She took his arm from behind and turned him
around until he stood facing her. Her own eyes,
she knew, were shiny and wet -- but this time she was
witness to telling evidence that he had also lost a
battle. Will hated crying. He had gone through
most of his life without ever allowing it. For him,
it was a sign of weakness. A vice instilled within
him through years of youthful torment at the hands of
his father. And so he chose to keep those things
inside himself. Chose never to speak of them, or to
even to feel them.
When she'd first met him, Deanna had found that
aspect of his personality perhaps most intriguing of
all. In the beginning, it had fascinated her that
any one person could live their lives with so much
constant contradiction in their souls. But then she
had fallen in love with him, and it had come to be a
part of her direction in life to find a way through
to him where no one else ever had. Especially
there. And she had succeeded. A long time ago,
she had known him better than anyone else in the
universe.
"I love you." She repeated slowly, this time
staring directly into his expression. She felt his
momentary confusion, his anger and then his hurt. A
hurt which came from the knowledge that she would
never live to see another sunset on Betazed, or watch
the ocean from the balcony of the home he kept on
Earth. She felt his pain until it became an
unbearable ache, and she welcomed it; embraced the
agony within herself while she drew gentle mental
fingertips over and over the injured part of his
soul.
She came for him, and wrapped her arms around
his waist. Pressing her head into his chest, she
curled her fingers into the muscles of his back and
still she held on. Her tiny body fit snugly within
the frame of his larger one, but his own hands hung
limply at his sides. He refused to move; hardly
allowed himself the luxury of breath.
"I love you." She spoke loudly this time and
felt his heartbeat racing beneath her ear. His
emotions shifted from the dull, muted ache she'd been
feeling all this time, into something far less
comprehensible. His body shook once more and his
arms slid upward, drawing themselves around her,
enveloping her in a fierce embrace.
"Shh." She whispered, fighting against the
blurring of her own vision. "You are the bravest
person that I know, William Riker. You can handle
anything..."
His arms suddenly loosened from around her body
and his hands slipped up to cradle her face between
them. She released her hold on him and lifted her
fingertips so that they curled inside each of his
palms. Still he said nothing. His attention was on
her face. He studied every feature, every nuance
before returning to her eyes. Finally, he tipped
his forehead downward, toward hers. When their
faces touched, she found herself unable to discern
whether the moisture she felt on her skin was a
result of her own teardrops or of his.
She had little time to ponder the thought
before the warm brush of his lips traced a pathway
from the edge of her earlobe, along the line of her
jaw and down to her mouth. Then he was kissing her,
and everything else in the universe rippled softly;
melting away.
--o--
--------
Chapter 21
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Mortals are such that just the
smallest taste of true sight would
send them questing the rest of their
days to recapture it..."
--------
Troi woke on her side, with her head on a
pillow and his arms wrapped around her from behind.
They were spooned, and she found herself smiling
nostalgically, remembering the first time. His body
was warm on her back and his breathing tickled her
neck.
She shivered.
He stirred in his slumber and she sensed the
precise moment when sleep-heavy cognizance
transformed into wakeful consciousness. His arms
moved around her.
"We haven't done this in a while." His whisper
against her shoulder caused another shiver and she
turned until she lay face to face with him, her head
propped on the pillow next to his. A pair of dark
eyes regarded his thoughtfully, but she said nothing.
He looked away first.
"You still can't say it, can you?" She sighed
softly. "Even now." She saw him swallow though he
didn't respond and she pulled her body snug with his,
tucking her head beneath his chin, her long dark hair
against his chest. "It's all right. I understand."
Her voice was quiet.
"I'm sorry.." He whispered into her hair,
stroking it with his hand. "I-"
"Shh." She pressed against him. "There are
times when words are fairly useless, aren't there?"
Her head pulled backward until she could see his face
once more. "And what's a few words between you and
I, anyway?" She felt his regret, his frustration,
and then the burning warmth which flowed through him
like blood. "No one." She whispered, sucking in a
shallow breath and waiting until she was certain he
could see and hear her. "No one," she repeated, "has
ever touched me the way you did just now. Will, I
felt as though you were worshipping my body. Not
even when we were younger -- I didn't even know that
it was possible to feel like that-" She trailed off,
clearly at a loss.
"I guess I was a little afraid at first," he
admitted. "afraid of hurting you. But the way you
came to me, the way you responded, it just -- doesn't
seem as though you're sick."
She dropped her gaze. "There are moments when
I forget... when it feels as though all of this might
just be another nightmare.." Her eyes lifted once
more, sparkling with new moisture. "But then this
morning I woke up, and I found that I couldn't even
wish for that anymore."
Will watched her in silence, brushing gently at
every stray teardrop which escaped her control.
"It's not fair!" She pounded on him with the
ball of her palm, and then collapsed into his arms
crying brokenly. "Nothing about it is fair....
except for those people. They're alive now, and I
know... it's terrible of me, I can't even believe
that I'm feeling this way..."
Angry thoughts tumbled from her lips only
partially coherent, and he wrapped his arms around
her, whispering softly and stilling the motion of her
body, back and forth. "Deanna." He murmured.
"Deanna, do something for me?" She didn't respond,
but when her body ceased its motion and he felt her
breathing return to normal, he knew that she was
listening. "I want you to take the next four days,
or however long you've got, and make it count. Make
it real. It doesn't matter anymore, what happened in
the past, or what you were afraid of doing. I want
you to take it all, right now. Everything you've
ever hoped for, or thought about. Don't leave it
inside. Don't waste another minute."
She was silent for a very long time, and then
he heard her voice. "Yes." She pushed gently away
from him and met his expression. "Yes." Her words
grew lighter and she lifted herself into a seated
position, pulling the blanket around her body. She
stared down at him and suddenly smiled. A brilliant,
soul shattering smile which reached clear through his
spirit and grabbed hold of whatever it was inside of
him that linked itself to her. "There's something I
need to do."
He sat up next to her, watching in moderate
amusement as her mood shifted so totally and she
hopped out of his bed.
"Will you help me?" Her head tipped sideways
and she watched him through those two incredible
eyes. He exhaled slowly and found that all he could
manage was to smile right back.
"You know I will." He finally answered.
He was awarded with another brilliant smile and
a low laugh which preceded her body as if fell upon
him.
--o--
--------
Chapter 22
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Mythology embodied the world's dreams,
helped to make sense of the great human
problems. Just as the dreams of individuals
exist to give subconscious support to their
conscious lives, so do myths serve as society's
dreams."
--------
Cold; damp with sweat, she sat up in her bed.
Sticky tendrils of hair clung to her forehead and she
swiped them backward, one at a time. Where was she?
In her quarters. It was dark. But space was
always dark. What time was it?
"Computer, time?"
<The time is 0624 hours>
So early. So late. How long had she been up
last night? What day was it? Three days before....
She flew from her bed and into the adjacent washroom,
retching feebly.
"I'm sorry," she sobbed into her sink. "I'm so
sorry..."
The mirror seemed to glow. She stared at it
through blurry eyes and blinked. Her hands closed
under the steady stream of water running from her
tap. Frigid, it numbed the skin around her knuckles
and she flicked at her lips with a dry tongue,
tasting exhaustion. Her reflection was odd. That
was what it was. It wasn't the mirror that was
glowing, it was...
*
"What is it?" Riker fingered a dark piece of
fabric he'd lifted from one of the containers Deanna
had scattered about her livingspace.
"Persepin." She smiled sardonically. "The
most expensive fabric on Betazed. Naturally, my
mother was possessed to purchase seven bolts of it as
a gift, in honor of my wedding day. What you're
looking at is only a small piece of that order."
She shrugged and he threw her a look.
"You've kept this in a box for ten years?"
She tipped her head in confusion. "More like
five." She quipped, and realization dawned on him.
"Your arrangement with Wyatt." It wasn't even
a question as he spoke it. He'd referred to her
engagement as 'an arrangement' at every instance it
came up in conversation. He did so because clearly,
he was unable to view it in any other way. Even
then -- he hadn't spoken of it more than twice since
the other man had left the Enterprise -- and her --
in search of a different destiny.
Afterwards, Will refused to bring it up again..
At first she had thought he may have been hurt by her
willingness to enter into such a union, despite the
totality of their history together. Even though they
themselves hadn't been lovers at the time. But
later she had come to realize that it was more than
that. He didn't bring it up because he knew what it
had cost her. The pride inherent in her decision to
honor the traditions of her heritage; the subsequent
realization that she had been stood up not once, but
twice, at the proverbial altar. He was sparing her
the humiliation. Not that she hadn't felt it even
so. For despite the fact that she had not loved
Wyatt; not in the way she had learned she could love
-- there was always the feeling that somehow, she was
'disposable'. As though no matter what she felt, it
would always be a simple matter for her life-partner
to give her up in search of something more ...
more...
"Yes." She smiled wanly. "The prodigal
saviour."
"You sound conflicted." He set the fabric down
and found a more comfortable position on the floor,
facing in her direction.
"Not really."
"Wistful, then."
"I suppose I'm wistful for anything that
reminds me of being alive right now." She spoke the
words before she thought and saw his body language
change immediately.
"Deanna-"
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
"Why not? You're allowed to feel." He
regarded her from a short distance, thinking it
better to allow her a measure of space rather than
physically reassuring her of his sincerity.
"Yes, feel. But not sorry for myself. I've
decided to boycott my impulse to wallow, if you don't
mind." Her crooked smile was followed by a quick
shrug.
"Not a bit." He grinned at her, hoping it
might help to ease the tension. It did. This time
the smile she afforded him reached her eyes. But
then her hands fell to her lap and she dropped her
gaze into another crate, staring within its confines
for a time. She sat there unmoving until curiosity
got the better of Will and he stood, walking over and
standing over her position.
He let out a low whistle. "Well I'll be-"
"I haven't looked at this in, gods, it must be
years by now." Her hands entered the container and
she lifted a fairly large rectangular canvas from
within.
"You bought it?"
"Not exactly. It's a print. A very limited
edition, of course, mother would never have had it
otherwise. But a print nonetheless." Her hands
traced the edges of its surface reverently and her
eyes never left the image before her.
"I still don't get it." Riker muttered,
shaking his head.
"Get what?"
"What you see in that thing." He gestured
vaguely at it. "It really is just a bunch of goopy
paint swirls." His eyes found hers. "And this time,
Ms. Troi, I don't feel the least bit guilty in saying
so."
"And so you shouldn't. You've earned the right
to have an opinion about it, this time." She echoed
his emphasis.
"Really?" He made no attempt to hide his
amusement at her tone. "When did that happen?"
She was silent for a short moment. "When you
stood in that museum for two hours after I left."
"How did you-?"
"I thought you didn't understand. You thought
I was gone." She looked up at him. "Both of us were
wrong."
"Apparently." He reached out his hand and
lifted her to her feet.
Carefully stepping over the various objects
strewn about her quarters, Deanna set the painting
down on a chair and turned. "Do you think Beverly
would like that fabric?" She cleared her thought
softly. "I know she adores textiles, but I've never
seen her look at a color quite that dark before-"
"I think she'll love it." Riker nodded
briefly. Uncomfortably.
"This bothers you, doesn't it?" She whispered,
watching him shift where he stood.
"No." He shrugged. Then glanced across at
her. "Yes."
"I'm sorry."
"You keep apologizing. There's nothing to be
sorry for."
"Isn't there?"
He sighed. "Maybe all of us expect our lives
to be just a little bit longer than they are. Just a
few more moments and we'll have enough time to make
those decisions we've been putting off. To say the
things we promised ourselves we'd say tomorrow."
"I asked you to help me because ... I don't
think that I could do this, alone."
"You don't have to do it at all, if it's
upsetting for you."
"It's not." She bit down on her lip
thoughtfully. "Not really. More for you than for
me, I think." She frowned and glanced away. "Ever
since Tasha died, I've wondered whether or not it
would be a good idea -- for any of us -- to put our
affairs in order that way. To expect the outcome of
death, even though it may never find us on this ship.
To imagine the lives of everyone else if it did. We
don't think about those things very often -- but
perhaps we should."
"Of course we don't think about those things.
Deanna, none of us actually expects to die,
regardless of how 'prepared' we are for it. It's
never the way we envision it. How could it be?" He
threw her a look of reproach.
"I think Worf does." Her dark eyes sought his
out. "Expect to die. In fact, I know he does. But
he looks on it with such ... reverence. In a way, I
almost wish I knew how to find that acceptance in
myself." Her hands lifted from her sides and she
began to pace. "Psychologically, of course, I know
all of the reasons for the feelings I'm experiencing.
But more than that, I feel as though I don't want to
know. I don't want to analyze every emotion because
it's making me crazy." Her eyes implored his
understanding. "Is that wrong? Can I forgo logic in
order to be -- of all things -- angry? Or should I
look forward to the end, the way Worf might. And if
so, why am I finding it so difficult to reconcile?"
She trailed off, still staring at him. "You see?
These are the things which are tumbling through my
thoughts, over and over again. Sometimes, I feel as
though I'm losing touch. Losing control. Maybe I am
going crazy."
"Absolutely not," he exhaled slowly. "I think
you just need someone to talk to, that's all. And
I'm no counselor, but I think it's probably a good
thing that you are talking. All though, I'm sure
that there are other people on this ship far more
qualified-"
"I'm glad it's you," She whispered, and her
eyes had somehow become glassy with teardrops between
his previous glance at the chair between them and his
return to her face. "I feel so lost, Imzadi I feel -
- alone."
He felt the dull ache spread throughout his
body from his chest and he closed the gap between
them, gathering her close in his arms. He held her,
pulling his fingers through the dark tangle of her
hair from behind. "You're not alone Deanna. You'll
never be alone. Not in this life, and not in the
next." His arms moved around her.
"I'm wallowing again, aren't I?" Her muted
whisper came from some place between her mouth and
the fabric of his shirt.
"Yeah." He smiled down at the top of her head
and brushed his lips across it. "But I think you've
earned the right this time." That made her laugh; a
short watery chuckle.
"Okay." She pulled away and sucked in a long
breath of air. "The fabric is definitely for
Beverly, then."
He arched an eyebrow, but made no comment at
her drastic change in subject, nor the damp spot on
his shirt where her tears had soaked it through. "So
it's settled then." He managed a grin. "And that
painting," he moved around the chair to the other
side of the room, indicating the canvas. "I'll bet
the Captain would love that. He seems to go for
impressionist-"
"I want you to have it." She interrupted him,
her eyes large.
Riker stared down at the cacophony of color.
It had always been one of the ugliest paintings he
had ever seen in his life. "Oh, Deanna, I really
think that the Captain would probably-"
"Do you want it?" Her voice cut in again, and
his train of thought shattered abruptly. He looked
at her, and then at the painting. Back at her, and
once again to the canvas on the chair. And though
the moment had taken fewer than three seconds to
complete in entirety; though he hadn't spoken during
that time, Riker suddenly saw something in the swirl
of green, orange, brown and red. He saw the light
of her eyes when she smiled. He saw a beautiful
Betazoid sunrise from the foothills near the Jalara
jungle. And he saw a curling length of vine, tangled
in a strand of her hair.
"Yes." He found that he had whispered, even
before he looked up one final time to meet her
expression.
Her eyes were lit once more and she smiled
genuinely at him from across the room. "Yes?" She
repeated, taking a step forward.
"Yeah." He exhaled a short breath of laughter
and nodded.
"Yeah?" Somehow, she had made it all the way
toward him and now stood directly in his path. The
warmth of her presence filled his senses all at once
and the nearness of her body, only an inch or two
away from contact, caused him nearly to shut his eyes
and wrap his arms around her. She was obviously
teasing him, and he couldn't have been more
interested.
"Yup." His smile grew wide as she drew closer
still, nearly nose to nose with him. He could feel
the damp heat of her breath on his skin and the next
word she uttered was swallowed by the closing of her
mouth over his. The feeling of her lips pulling
provocatively across the opening of his. She looked
up at him and her eyes were bright. He almost didn't
hear her when she whispered, "I never really liked it
all that much, either. It was Chandra's big deal
while we were growing up."
His head tipped backward and his mouth fell
open. She hadn't really liked it? After everything
she'd put him through. Every so called 'lesson'?
Every reminder of his less than cultured attitude?
She'd refused to even speak with him until he'd come
to see it, and she hadn't even *liked* it?
"I cannot believe you just said that." He
shook his head slowly, still smiling despite such
mild indignance. Deanna merely wet her lips and
shrugged coyly. "You are definitely going to pay for
that, Ms. Troi." His fingertips traced the edges of
her face while he spoke.
Her body tipped forward and her lips brushed
intimately against his. "By all means Mr. Riker,
point me to the maze..."
--o--
--------
Chapter 23
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Truly great madness cannot be achieved without
significant intelligence."
Henrik Tikkanen
--------
"Picard to Crusher." The Captain tapped his
comm badge. "Beverly?" There was no answer.
"Doctor Crusher, please respond." A moment more of
waiting yielded no further sound. "Computer,
location of Doctor Crusher."
<Doctor Crusher is in her quarters>
"Provide me a direct comm link to her
quarters."
<Acknowledged>
"Beverly, are you there?" He spoke and then
frowned when a now-familiar silence followed his
query. Where was she? It wasn't like her not to
answer a page, and even less characteristic of her to
be in her cabin after 0800 hours. He drew in a slow
breath of air.
"Computer, what is the vital status of the life
sign in Doctor Crusher's quarters?"
<Please elaborate. There are two life signs in
Doctor Crusher's quarters.>
"Two lifesigns? Who is the second life sign?"
<That information is not available.>
"Picard to Lieutenant Worf."
<Worf here, sir.>
"Mr. Worf, assemble a security team and meet me
in Doctor Crusher's quarters immediately."
<Aye Sir.> Worf responded without question,
and Picard strode forward down the corridor with new
purpose.
"Computer, are both lifesigns human?"
<Affirmative.>
"Are either of them in medical distress?"
<Negative.>
That was good news, at least. Picard rounded
the corner of the corridor and found himself standing
face to face with Beverly Crusher's cabin doorway.
Worf and his security team arrived directly and the
Captain stepped aside to allow them space.
"Computer, override secure access,
authorization Security 11Alpha5."
<Secure access disabled. Please enter when
ready,> The computer intoned. Worf pressed
forward, his team close behind as the door slid open,
revealing a dark and silent cabin.
"Doctor?" Picard's voice preceded him, and
then he saw her. She was laying on the floor in
front of her vanity mirror, obviously unconscious.
Her long red hair fanned out beneath her head.
"Doctor!" The Captain sprang forward, accompanied by
the large Klingon security officer. Together, the
knelt before the doctor and she stirred, her head
turning slightly. Worf spun around and barked an
order to his team, sending them scurrying to every
corner of the suite in search of an intruder.
"Beverly," Picard carefully lifted her head
and she didn't protest. She looked at him through a
pair of heavy eyelids.
"What happened?" Her muttered voice caused him
to exhale in relief and almost to smile.
"We were hoping you might be able to tell us."
The Captain's gaze grew serious as he examined the
back of her head and neck for any sign of injury.
"We found you here this way after you hadn't answered
any of your pages." He helped her into a seated
position as she struggled to rise. "And there was
something else. According to the computer, there
were two human lifesigns in your quarters less than a
minute ago. Were you with someone?"
She frowned slightly and shifted her head. "I
don't think so." Her gaze sharpened. "No. There
was no one. I was looking in my mirror when there
was a light. It wasn't very bright. Something-"
She trailed off and Picard stared at her expectantly.
"I don't remember." She finally whispered. "I'm
sorry."
"It's all right." Picard nodded encouragingly.
"I'll have Geordi go through the sensor logs and
replay the entire evening if we have to."
"That's it!" Crusher suddenly sat up straight.
"I started recording it. There was something strange
with my mirror, and the light. I didn't think it
could have been my eyes so I had the computer begin
recording. That's when everything gets fuzzy." She
swallowed. "If it kept recording, we might have
something to look at."
Finding no apparent injury, the Captain helped
her to her feet and lent her his arm while she
steadied herself. "That was good thinking, Doctor."
Beverly smiled wryly. "This to the officer who
ended up flat out on the floor of her cabin?"
"It could have been any of us."
"Maybe." She frowned thoughtfully. "But I
don't think so. Jean-Luc, I've been -- seeing things
lately." She paused, a little embarrassed.
"Seeing things? What kind of things?" He
regarded her seriously. She led him to the couch in
the centre of her cabin and they sat.
"I was going to tell you, but not until I was
certain there was anything to tell..."
"Beverly.."
"All right, all right. Lights. The lights on
the ship seem to have a mind of their own lately.
They go off and on, for no apparent reason." She
turned animatedly. "Last night in Ten Forward,
Guinan and I saw it together. Only this time the
lights that flickered weren't even on the same
circuit. It didn't make any sense."
"Could there have been a pattern?" Picard
leaned forward, obviously in thought. The fact that
he hadn't disputed her story was not lost on the
Doctor and she exhaled in moderate relief. This was
not something she had wanted to justify. The Captain
clasped his hands over his knees in front of him.
"I don't know. Maybe. I suppose so. If I
were Data, I could probably tell you more
specifically." She shrugged at his half smile.
"Perhaps we can get Data to take a look at that
recording," he went on, and then added as an
afterthought, "computer, list the last known visual
recording entry made in this cabin."
A feminine voice responded promptly. <Last
visual recording commenced at 0626 hours, still in
progress>
Crusher and Picard exchanged glances. "Which
corroborates your account." Picard nodded.
"Computer, cease recording and save. Transfer to a
security log for this stardate."
<Acknowledged>
"Computer," This time it was Crusher who spoke.
"How many lifesigns are there in these quarters right
now? Accompany list of species."
The computer beeped perfunctorily and then
responded in monotone, <There are five human
lifesigns and one Klingon lifesign> That included
the Doctor herself, the Captain, and the three
security officers. But who was the sixth? Picard's
eyes widened and Crusher leaned forward.
"List all access requests for these quarters
between my sign in for the evening last night and
this morning's security detail."
<There have been no access requests for these
quarters during the specified timeframe.> Beverly
frowned.
"Which means that no one entered, and no one
left, before you got here," she muttered.
Picard caught his chief security officer's eye.
"Mr. Worf. The computer is reading a sixth lifesign
in these quarters."
"That is impossible, sir. We have searched
every nanometer of this cabin. There is no one but
us." The Kilngon responded gruffly.
"Regardless, Lieutenant. It appears there is
another lifesign." He stood slowly. "I want you to
have that recording analyzed by Data and Geordi in
engineering. Keep me informed."
"Yes sir." Worf nodded brusquely, leaving
directions for his team to finish the final sweep of
Crusher's quarters while he proceeded to engineering.
"Doctor." Picard turned toward her and placed a
comforting hand on her arm. "It is possible that we
may have an answer to the question or your phantom in
fairly short order."
Beverly stood and cast a wary glance around the
room, her hands clenched. "Maybe. There's only one
thing I don't understand." Her eyes met and held the
Captain's gaze. The small security team in her cabin
continued their scrutiny in her bedroom as she spoke.
"You said the computer identified two *human* life
signs. Regardless of what the sensor's picked up, I
think I can state fairly certainly that there wasn't
anyone human in here with me when I started that
recording. Not unless he or she was in some sort of
phase shift."
"In which case the sensors wouldn't have picked
anything up either." Picard added.
"So the only thing I can come up with which
might cause the computer to detect another human
lifesign that way, would be a complete
impossibility." She exhaled sharply and Picard
furrowed his brow.
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking," Crusher began, "that either the
computer is in fairly dire need of diagnostic work,"
she held his gaze, "or I'm pregnant."
--o--
*
--------
Chapter 24
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"What would it be like if you lived each day,
each breath, as a work of art in progress? Imagine
that you are a Masterpiece unfolding, every second
of every day, a work of art taking form with every
breath."
-Thomas Crum
--------
When Beverly Crusher emerged from her own exam
room, Picard was standing impatiently outside her
door, waiting. His hands clenched and unclenched at
his sides. It made no sense whatsoever to him that
he should be this affected by the outcome of such
testing. And yet he was. With a quickly indrawn
breath and a frown, he glanced up at the doorway and
watched her walk directly through it. She stood
there for a moment, staring at him, and then she
smirked.
"You look worse than I did."
His eyes widened but he said nothing.
"Well, if you feel anywhere near the way you
look, you ought to be happy to hear that I am
definitely not pregnant." Picard exhaled sharply and
Beverly added, "Not that it would have been any of
your business, even if I were.."
He threw her a look. "Doctor, everyone on this
ship is my business."
"Funny." Her lips curled upward. "I didn't
see you in here last week when Ensign Rill was..."
The Captain scowled. "This is different."
"Yes." She sighed suddenly. "I suppose it is.
So all we need to figure out now is who that sixth
lifesign really was. Unless the computer was
malfunctioning..."
"No. The computer sensors underwent a level
three diagnostic. They're functioning normally. I'm
afraid we have a mystery on our hands." He met her
gaze levelly.
"It appears so." She nodded and then cast a
look around her at the various instruments, which lay
in disarray next to several of the tables in the lab.
Her voice and manner changed. "I need to get back to
work. Will you keep me informed when you hear
something?"
"Beverly.." Picard took a step forward as the
doctor appeared ready to begin her work once more.
She didn't respond. "Beverly, please.. look at me."
"No!" Crusher turned and flashed him a
venomous glare.
"Beverly, please-"
"I said no. Not this time. No..." Her hands
shook when she snatched up an instrument from a
nearby table.
"Doctor," his voice became authoritative.
"I will not give up on this. I will not..."
Fingers clenched around the instrument, white
knuckled hands curled inward with desperation.
"No one's asking you to give up." He ventured
forward, stepping carefully while he spoke. "No
one's asking you to set aside your feelings. But to
cherish whatever time is left, with her. With all of
us."
"She's not going to die." A pair of
uncharacteristically tear-filled eyes stared up at
him. "There has to be something..." He came
toward her but she shoved him backward. "No.."
"We have to think about what's important.
Right now,"
"This is not happening. Not again..."
"It's never easy to lose someone we care
about."
"How would you know?" She rounded on him.
His mouth fell shut. But then he whispered,
"you are not the only person who loved Jack. Nor the
only person to have ever lost a dear friend." He
finished with a slow exhale and she stopped. Her
hand flew to her lips.
"Oh, Jean-Luc I'm so sorry." She came forward
and stood before him. "I didn't mean that.."
"I know." He nodded, his eyes dark.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Beverly, perhaps.... you need
to take some time to say goodbye. To a dear and
wonderful friend. I think that you will feel the
sting of regret far more later on if you don't." He
took one of her hands in his and held it in his own.
She didn't pull away, but she turned her head
instead. "What if there's a way? Something I can
do, but I don't?"
"What if there isn't?" He whispered. "Will you
give up whatever time is left?"
For a time, she was silent, and then she turned
to face him. "I have to do this, Jean-Luc. Please
understand. I have to..."
He stared at her in silence and then quietly
acquiesced; the barest nod of his head indicating
that he accepted her plea. After all, if there truly
was nothing to be done in the end, then perhaps this
was everything she could allow herself to do. In
either event, he knew simply from being here with her
-- she had to try.
"I understand." He sighed, allowing her
fingers to fall through his grasp. "If anyone can
find a way, Beverly ... I've no doubt that it will be
you."
He regarded her with pride and she felt as
though she had been infused with new energy. New
hope. Perhaps there was a way, and perhaps she would
find it. Somehow, his blessing seemed to fill her
and she smiled through her rapidly diminishing
teardrops. She hadn't cried for over a year.
Picard watched her turn away and he nodded once
more to himself. In truth, some small part of him
held out an almost irrational sense of hope that
Beverly was right. That perhaps there might be a
way. But it was a very small part, for the rest of
him knew with absolute certainty that the diagnosis
originally arrived at was far more likely the truth;
that Deanna Troi now had fewer than two days to live.
..//
--------
Chapter 25
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"We carry within us the wonders we seek without us."
--------
She stood in the semi-darkness of her cabin,
staring down at him where he slept. Tangled in the
sheets of her bed, very likely where he'd fallen
exhausted from their latest intimate encounter. His
eyes were closed; his breathing even and regular. He
seemed so peaceful laying in slumber that she tipped
her head and smiled tenderly. These were the little
things that she would miss. Or would she miss them?
Would she miss any of them...? Deanna swallowed a
pang in her throat and dropped her gaze.
It was during moments such as these that she
had originally fallen in love with a brash young Will
Riker. In such rare instances when he had seemed
almost -- vulnerable -- in a way. Certainly not in
any physical sense, and yet there were times when she
simply knew he needed her. Those were the moments
she cherished. Moments, which had come all too
infrequently during their tenure together on board
the Enterprise. Whether due to his stubborn pride,
or to her own, Deanna wasn't certain which of them
had allowed their intimacy to lapse; but lapse it
had. And now she stood above him, watching him,
loving him -- and wondering just how long such a
perfect moment would endure.
She could sense his emotions, even in slumber.
Right at this moment, he was dreaming of something or
someone -- and the dream was a happy one. A sense of
completion washed over her. She inhaled it as though
it were a breath of vital air. But just as quickly
as the feeling arrived, it was replaced with sorrow.
An agony so deep it threatened to overwhelm her.
She held her breath and caught a sympathetic sob in
her throat before it would manifest. Under normal
circumstances, she would not have been so affected by
such a stray emotion, but she had opened herself up
to him in whole, and now she felt his every emotion
as though it were her own. Quickly dropping in a
delicate mental shield, Deanna collected her thoughts
and seated herself on the edge of the bed, next to
his sleeping form.
Her fingers outstretched, she traced a feathery
pathway across his features, attempting to quell the
turmoil of his thoughts both physically and mentally.
Her empathy reached out for him and bathed him in a
sense of warm comfort which only she could offer. He
stirred in his sleep and she leaned forward,
whispering something distinctly Betazoid into his
ear. Something she remembered -- from a long time
ago. His breathing seemed to slow and she felt his
mind drift farther away, sliding backward into a
restful state once more.
Sitting upright once more, she continued to
watch him, unwilling to look away. "Sleep now,
Imzadi." She whispered, removing her fingertips from
the side of his face as she spoke. "Dream well." He
sighed in his sleep. Without skipping a beat, his
emotions turned to the innocent feelings associated
with childhood and she knew he was living far away in
the past. But that was good, because it meant that
he was happy, at least for now, he would feel safe.
Odd that she should see him through two pairs
of eyes in this way. Yet she had for years upon
years. Through the eyes of a lover or a friend, and
the eyes of a protector. She had guarded him from
his dreams for many years, always without his being
aware. Most often without even so much as the
physical contact which she shared with him now. From
another room on the Enterprise, another deck, she
would sense him nonetheless, and she would reach out
for him, embracing the scared little boy in his
dreams though he was never to know she had ever been
there. It was just that she felt him so keenly,
above all the others. She could never abide the
depth of his hurt; a hurt which appeared for him only
at night, only when he was never to remember its
sting in the wakeful hours of morning.
He held in his hands, along with the Captain,
the lives of every being on board the Enterprise. Yet
he never flinched from such dire responsibility.
Never lost the firm upright confidence of his posture
in command; never spoke to a living soul about his
doubts or whether he harbored any at all. She knew
that he did, of course. He was fallible, just as any
of them were fallible. But Will Riker would be
strong for all of them. And she would be strong for
him, whether he knew it or not, just as she always
had been. She would stand behind him for those
ever-so-rare instances when he would falter, just a
little. She would be there to listen to sound of his
voice, whether he cared that he was speaking to a
Counselor or not. He was speaking to *her*, and
there would be no questions thereafter.
The problem was right now, she had grown so
weary, all of a sudden. Her body was cold and she
longed for the warmth of the coverlet which had
surrounded them both earlier in the evening. Rising
carefully from her seat at the edge of the bed, Troi
rounded the other side of it. She laid down next to
him once more and felt him stir. He was only half
awake, she could sense that much was true, but he
wrapped his arms around her even so. And she
gratefully accepted his warmth. The feeling of his
breath on the back of her neck. Her hands followed
his arms around her body in front until she was able
to thread her fingers with his. And there she slept,
her eyes fell shut. Her mind still focused on the
man who lay beside her.
*
"Beverly!" Riker's baritone voice called out
over the comm, clearly in distress. He'd been trying
to wake Deanna for nearly five minutes without
success. Her body lay limply in his grasp, and she
was cold, her skin was pallid against his own.
<Will,> Beverly's worried voice came back over
the comm. <What's wrong?>
"It's Deanna..." The back of his eyes burned
as he gathered her close in his arms, lifting the
Counselor from the bed. "She won't wake up. I'm
bringing her to Sickbay." There was a short pause
while Beverly barked some orders to her staff.
Will's end of the comm link remained silent, but not
for long. "Beverly," she could hear the catch in
his voice. "I think--I think she's dying.."
--o--
/
--------
Chapter 26
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Could a greater miracle take place than for each of
us
than to look through one other's eyes for an
instant?"
Henry David Thoreau
--------
A whirlwind of motion followed Beverly Crusher
and her medical staff as they fought to save the life
of the Counselor. Riker had been thrust into the
background no sooner than he'd arrived carrying
Deanna in his arms. Moments later, Picard and Worf
emerged from the corridor and stood to the
Commander's left -- all of them watching helplessly
as instruments beeped and the flurry of activity
continued.
Riker had given up asking questions, opting
instead to stand rigidly in one corner apart from the
other officers, unable to tear his gaze away from the
bio-bed on which she lay. Picard and Worf were also
silent, though it was clear they were worried as
well. Hell, they were all terrified, and Crusher
wasted no time in administering the latest of her
attempts to halt the progress of Deanna's illness.
For what seemed an eternity, the medical team
surrounded Deanna -- and then they broke apart. As
suddenly as the flurry had begun, Doctor Crusher laid
her hand against the Counselor's forehead and
everyone was silent.
Riker came forward without thinking, side-
stepping a nurse, he made his way next to Beverly and
caught her expression. The doctor's eyes were both
sharp and serious. She cast them downward only
moments after their gazes had met.
"Deanna-" He whispered, unwilling to look down
at the bio-bed next to him.
"She's-" Crusher began.
"It's too soon!" He implored. "You said she
had another day. Another day at least! You said-"
"Will," another voice interrupted and both
Riker and Crusher dropped their eyes to attend it.
The Commander's entire tirade had occurred within the
span of a heartbeat, and it was within that very same
heartbeat that Riker met and held the Counselor's
gaze.
Her eyes were heavy and she looked more tired
than he had ever seen her before, but she was awake.
She was alive -- and did that mean--? His attention
flashed momentarily to Beverly, but the doctor
cleared her throat softly and shook her head sadly.
Will swallowed the iron fist in his throat and
glanced back at Deanna, losing himself in the depth
of her gaze. She smiled up at him, and though the
expression found her eyes, it barely caused her lips
to move.
Reaching out blindly, he took her hand in his
and held it. "Deanna, oh God, this isn't how-"
"Shh," she whispered. "There's no more pain,"
she sighed, obviously light headed from the
medication she'd been administered. "Beverly's taken
care of that."
"You were in pain ... before?" Riker leaned
forward, oblivious to the Captain and the Lieutenant
as they approached from behind him.
"Only a little." She wrinkled her nose
endearingly, but it looked wrong. Everything about
her being this calm was wrong. "Nothing to cry over,"
she added, quoting him directly so that he couldn't
help but smile down at her. He had said that very
thing on any number of away-missions gone wrong. Any
number of opportunities when she had scolded him for
not being more careful. How he wished he could be in
her place right now!
"You should have said something..." He
admonished, feeling a sharp stab of guilt invade his
heart at the thought of their recently rekindled
intimacy.
"Never." She smiled again as though she had
heard him, and then her head turned slightly, her
gaze resting on the Captain.
Picard stood next to his normally stoic
Security Chief, only a step or two behind the
Commander. "Captain-," her eyes closed and reopened
slowly, but her voice was clearer when next she
spoke. "Thank you. For letting me serve on board
this ship. You've always been an inspiration to me.
In many ways, to so many of us, even more than that.
Every Starfleet officer on board this ship holds you
in unequaled esteem. Remember that when next you
worry whether or not you've made the right decision."
She smiled. "It's been an honor to serve with you,
sir."
The Captain blinked and nodded uncomfortably.
"The honor was always mine, Deanna. You and I have
shared a trust, a kind of intimacy which could never
be duplicated. You are among the finest officers I
have ever known, and your friendship is one I will
cherish forever. I have never known, nor will I ever
know a soul as generous as yours."
Troi swallowed through the blur of impending
teardrops though she tried valiantly to smile. Her
gaze then turned to Worf, where it lingered for a
moment. "I suppose that words are fairly inadequate
for you, Worf." His answering grunt was rewarded
with her smile. "Despite your most ardent protest, I
know that within you is the capacity for such warmth
and caring. Your sense of honor and your loyalty are
what I've always loved in you. You and Alexander are
dearer to me than you may ever know. Tell him
please -- for me --" The moisture in her eyes began
to fall, "Tell him that he is always in my thoughts.
That you both are.." She trailed off and Worf came
forward, his posture betraying his discomfort.
"I will tell him." The Klingon uttered. "He
will know that you died with honor. And that your
place in the next world was secured." A higher
compliment from a Klingon could not have been
offered, and so Deanna sighed, nodding in gratitude.
"Perhaps Alexander will write a song about you."
Worf continued, and was awarded with a widening of
the Counselor's smile. When she considered the
'little warrior' coming up with his own lyrics, she
couldn't help but feel a stab of painful affection
for him. And Alexander would surely do it, if his
father presented him the idea. Of that, she had no
doubt.
"I'd like that." She whispered. "I'd like
that very much." Her expression softened and then
turned to Beverly. The two women, once colleagues,
held eye contact for some time before Deanna spoke.
"I'm so sorry, Beverly. I wish-" She trailed off in
frustration when her tears fell harder. It was
difficult to speak when your body betrayed you at
every turn. Troi swallowed and collected her
thoughts, noticing -- not for the first time -- that
her best friend's eyes were full as well.
"Don't be sorry. Deanna, you are my dearest
friend. I'm the one who's sorry. I tried," she
whispered. "I tried so hard, but there was just so
little time..."
"None of this is your fault." Troi smiled
through her tears. "You did everything in your power
and I will not allow you to blame yourself for
something which could never have been prevented.
Promise me." She regarded the other woman directly,
and when there was no direct response, she repeated,
"promise me Beverly."
Crusher nodded, exhaling quickly. "I'll never
forget you. I'll never stop missing you..." She took
her friend's hand and squeezed it gently.
"I don't know how to say goodbye." Troi shook
her head.
"Then don't."
"You know that in France, there is no word for
good-bye." Picard spoke quietly. "We say "au
revoir" which means, 'until the next time'. And so
you see there is no parting forever..."
Beverly turned and stared at him for a moment.
When she could contain her tears no longer, she
broke; a tidal wave of emotion which caused Deanna
herself to duck her head and turn away. There was
nothing she could do as the Captain lead the doctor
slowly into the other room, followed closely by Worf.
And so she tried in vain to quell her own emotions.
Until she felt a hand against her own. Will's hand.
"I won't let you go..." He whispered, leaning
close to brush his lips against her temple.
"Then don't." Her eyes met his and seemed to
be imploring him to make good on his promise. He
looked away guiltily. He hadn't said anything for
several seconds when she spoke again. "I know," Her
whispered voice seemed loud enough to fill the room.
It filled his senses nonetheless. That was when he
realized she had spoken in his mind, and not aloud.
"You don't need to say it. Because I know, Will.
I've always known."
He turned and saw her dark eyes flash.
"God damn it!" He cursed the gods, the
universe, any deity who might listen.. "Why should
it be this way?"
"Words are not important." She whispered
softly but he rounded on her violently, so harshly
that her hand fell from his grasp. Deanna shrank
back without thinking and Riker's eyes grew wide with
horror. He lowered his forehead, pressing it
against her own.
"I won't let you go.." He repeated. "I can't
let you go-"
"Then don't." The echo of her earlier voice
sounded barely a whisper this time. Her eyes slid
shut and then opened with effort. Will dropped to
his knee on the chair near her bed, clutching one of
her hands between two of his. Her head sank farther
into the pillow beneath it, and she exhaled softly.
"I remember -- the first time we were together-" Her
sultry eyes found his. "Do you remember, that
night..."
"How could I forget?" He smiled down at her,
turning her tiny hand inside his. His expression
grew suddenly thoughtful. "I never told you this,"
he whispered, leaning across her body so that he
could speak near her ear, "I guess it didn't seem
like a 'guy' thing to say.." She chuckled softly.
"But before that night, I'd never felt anything more-
-I don't know. The two of us together. I wanted to
pull you right inside my body ... if that makes any
sense at all. I felt like-"
"I know." She murmured. "Me too."
"One of the perks of being an empath?" He
wondered, kissing her gently.
"Mm." She sucked in another breath and then
added, "of being Imzadi." He felt the edge of her
consciousness touch his mind very gently and he laid
his head against her chest. The sensation of her
breathing lulled him for a time, and they remained
that way in silence. Simply together. But then
something changed. Her breathing no longer pressed
against her chest and Riker lifted his head, rubbing
the remainder of the moisture from his eyes. The
monitor over Deanna's bed hummed softly and blinked
solid.
"Doctor!" He called desperately. "Doctor!"
Crusher flew into the room accompanied by two
nurses, each of whom moved to stand on opposite sides
of their superior. Beverly glanced at Deanna and
then at the biomonitor which now sounded a keening
alarm. But what struck Riker most of all was that
none of the medical officers were moving. He heard
Crusher's voice in some far off place when she called
for the alarm to be silenced, and he felt her hand
when it lay against his arm. But none of it seemed
real.
He looked down at Troi, laying peacefully
immobile. Her dark eyes were closed and she seemed
so -- restful. Yanking his arm free of the Doctor's
hold, he shoved past a nurse and knelt at the
Counselor's bedside. "I love you..." He cried
openly, heedless of the medical staff in the room
with him. Uncaring of anyone or anything but her. "I
love you, Deanna. I'm so in love with you. I've
never stopped... Why couldn't I tell you? It's so
easy. It's so easy to say. I'm so sorry,
Imzadi..."
The rest of his sentence trailed off into a
lengthy string of Betazin which Crusher could hardly
understand, no more than a word here or there. And
so she motioned to her nurses who quietly left the
room. The doctor herself stepped out after them,
leaving an obviously heartbroken Will Riker with some
degree of privacy. Crusher's small hands were
trembling as she punched in the security code on the
console near the door, and then she stopped, unable
to keep from translating at least a part of what
she'd heard. The last sentence she'd recognized as
Will spoke in a language she only scarcely
understood, was that his spirit would never be whole
again.
--o--
--------
Chapter 27
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"It is not because things are difficult that we do
not dare;
it is because we do not dare that things are
difficult."
--------
The conference room seemed eerily wrong,
somehow. Riker couldn't help the occasional glance
he afforded to the empty chair next to his, a chair
which only two days earlier had been occupied by
Counselor Troi. A chair which would never see her
presence again. For the third time in as many
minutes, he swallowed the lump in his throat,
concentrating instead on the animated voice of
Lieutenant Commander Data who stood at a console near
the head of the giant table.
Picard, Beverly, Worf and Geordi sat in their
usual positions, watching as Data illuminated
something on a screen above their heads. But none of
them had spoken in the hours since Deanna's death.
None of them had said much of anything since the
moment they'd been summoned here.
Due to the timing of the tragedy, the Counselor
had been placed in stasis, awaiting transport to
Betazed where the Enterprise would meet up with an
entourage and with Ambassador Troi. Deanna's mother
had been on her way to rendezvous with the ship, even
as the unnamed illness had claimed the life of her
daughter. There simply hadn't been enough time...
Riker's thoughts shifted back into the present
and he heard, only dimly, the tail end of Data's
explanation.
"It appears," the android tipped his head, "as
though the patterns of light witnessed by Doctor
Crusher and several others on board may indeed have
been a method of communication. Our analysis
indicated that the intervals between light and dark
periods correspond directly with a crude form of
binary code."
"Ones and zeros?" Picard sat forward, tugging
down on his uniform.
"Hm." Data nodded. "In a manner of speaking.
On or off, one or zero, the ultimate purpose of which
seems to be a message."
"So what you're saying is that someone or --
something -- out there was trying to talk to me?"
Crusher inquired.
"Perhaps."
Geordi stood and rounded the conference room
table. "The problem is, we don't know what the
message means. Or if it makes any sense at all.
Data?" He turned toward the android who stepped
forward and addressed Beverly directly.
"Doctor, do the words: 'save this child' mean
anything to you?"
Beverly thought for a moment and then frowned.
"No. Not really. Was there anything else?"
"I'm afraid not." Geordi spoke up. "Not in the
recording we sampled."
"But there was definitely a light in my
quarters that night, wasn't there?" She placed her
hands on the table before her.
"Yes. And we can't account for it. Or for why
the computer read the lifesign as human." Geordi
shrugged apologetically from where he stood, next to
Data.
Picard was about to speak once more when the
lights in the conference suite blinked twice and
flickered out. "What the devil?" The Captain turned
toward Data and was about to bark a command to the
computer when the lights returned to normal once more
and the comm for the meeting room beeped intrusively.
<Security to Captain Picard>
"Picard here. Go ahead."
<Sir,> an obviously apologetic voice on the
other end of the link came through. <I'm afraid we
have a problem. I don't know how it happened, with
the three of us down here the entire time->
"Out with it, Lieutenant." Riker barked
impatiently.
<Commander Troi's stasis pod. It's missing,
sir.>
Picard placed both hands on the table before
him in preparation to stand, but Riker leapt to his
feet before his superior. "What?" They spoke in
unison, but it was Will who continued the question.
"What the hell do you mean, 'missing'?"
<Gone. Sir, we've gone a ship-wide sweep.
It's not on board, and there have been no
unauthorized transports in the past two hours.>
Picard and his first officer exchanged a
meaningful look before the older man took to his feet
as well.
"Lieutenant, I want you to do that sweep
another time. I want you to be absolutely certain.
And I want you to double check every entrant to and
from sickbay for the past two hours. Is that
understood?"
<Yes sir.> The voice on the other end of the
comm signed off abruptly, leaving the occupants of
the conference room in a state of shocked silence.
Beverly Crusher sat backward in her chair, her
head turned, obviously in thought. Her mind spun
backward over the events of the previous week. The
lives they'd saved on Deep Space Seven. The chemical
they had salvaged from the surface of Ikerra. The
lights in ten forward. The cave on the planet's
surface. Movement out of the corner of her eye and
Deanna laying unconscious on her sick-bay table only
a day after they'd left DS7. Her eyes narrowed and
she bit down on her lip. A connection ... there had
to be a connection ... but what was it?
"Sir." The Doctor sat forward in her chair,
capturing the Captain's attention. "We have to go
back to Ikerra."
"Ikerra? What for? May I remind you Doctor
that we are already nearly a day late for our
rendezvous with the Betazoid-"
"I know that. I know, Jean-Luc, but we can't
go to Betazoid right now..." She shook her head
slowly, as if formulating the pieces of a puzzle one
at a time.
"Why not?"
"Because, I think -- no, I'm almost certain,
that 'this child' is somehow related to Deanna."
Data arched an eyebrow and Riker sat back down
in his chair, his eyes focussed on Crusher. "How do
you know?" He asked.
"Because," She swallowed and then exhaled. "I
think that we brought something back here with us
when we returned from the away mission on Ikerra. I
think it's probably still on board, and I think it's
trying to tell us something -- about itself, or maybe
-- about Deanna." Crusher regarded each officer in
turn. "I may be wrong about this. It's possible
that I am, but if I'm not -- we don't have any time
left. We have to go now." Her silence and her gaze
entreated the Captain's cooperation. With a glance
at Geordi who shrugged, Data who nearly did the same,
and Riker -- who inclined his head minutely, Picard
finally turned back toward the Doctor.
"Very well." He whispered. Crusher exhaled
visibly, and the Captain tapped the badge at his
chest. "Picard to bridge. Set a course for Ikerra,
ensign Rill, warp factor nine."
<Aye sir, course laid in> The response came
back.
"In the mean time, I want to know more about
our 'visitor'. Doctor, it seems to have taken a
liking to you. I want you to see if you can
communicate with it. Whatever you need to do without
endangering your own safety. Lets make sure we know
what we're up against. And who we're talking to.
Data, Geordi, you will assist the Doctor in whatever
way she feels necessary."
"Yes sir." Geordi moved toward the doorway and
Crusher nodded briefly. Standing, she exited the
conference suite, followed closely by Data. The
three of them left Riker, Picard and Worf still
within.
"Mr. Worf," Picard turned where he stood. "I
want you to supervise your team's efforts at
recovering that stasis pod."
"Aye sir." The security chief inclined his
head and then took his leave in short order. That
left only one officer. The Captain turned his gaze
on Riker.
"Commander-"
"Captain, with your permission I'd like to-"
"I need you on the bridge, number one.
Whatever happens between now and the time we reach
Ikerra, I'm going to need my first officer. Is that
understood?" The Captain pinned his junior with a
direct look.
"Yes, sir." Riker nodded, filing his personal
feelings aside. "I understand."
"Good." Picard moved to exit the room. "And
Commander? It's never too late to hold out hope..."
He spoke as he moved through the doorway, out onto
the bridge. Riker remained behind for a moment
longer, looking after him. Hope? Hope for what?
Hope had died along with Deanna five hours ago. Hope
had slipped away from his thoughts, from his mind,
from his heart. Hope wasn't ever coming back. And
neither was she.
Riker sucked in a breath, straightened his
posture and followed his Captain out onto the bridge.
//
--------
Chapter 28
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"When it gets dark enough, you can see the stars."
--Charles A. Beard
--------
They'd found Troi's stasis pod. Two decks
lower than it should have been; on the edge of a
transporter pad. How it had suddenly arrived there,
and the means by which it disappeared from beneath a
compliment of security personnel with were still a
mystery, but it seemed eerily as though they had been
meant to notice it was gone, and that it hadn't been
stolen, but rather moved deliberately. The obvious
question remained.
Fewer than twenty six hours later, the
Enterprise returned to standard orbit of Ikerra.
Breaking warp speed sanctions in an area of
Federation space was never an advisable course of
action for a Starfleet vessel, but under the
circumstances, the Captain had deemed there was
little choice. Not if they wanted to make it back to
the planet in less time than it had taken them to
journey away from it.
And so they'd returned to the green class-L
giant. Picard strode with purpose to his chair on the
bridge, arriving in time to discover that Commander
Riker was already on duty.
He frowned at the younger man, revealing a rare
instance of displeasure. It was only since it now
seemed clear that the officer he referred to as his
'number one' had not taken rest in the past thirty
seven hours.
"Report, number one?" Picard stood stoically
in front of the captain's chair.
"Sir." Riker turned and nodded. "We've
acquired coordinates for the away mission. And I've
managed to secure us one transport window from
Chancellor Kern. But he's not happy about it. I
don't think we'll get more than one try.
Voluntarily, at least..."
The Captain nodded shortly, noting the
apathetic tone of Riker's voice. "Well done,
Commander."
"I've already assembled the mission team."
Riker continued. "The only problem, is that we're
going to have to wait three hours until we're able to
transport. The next window isn't until then."
"In that case," The Captain cleared his
throat. "I want you off my bridge, and I want you to
get some rest -- for the next three hours. You need
it, Will, you look like hell. And I don't want to
hear any argu-"
"All right."
Picard's voice died in his throat and he threw
his first officer a questioning glance. Will
smiled half way. "I know when I'm not wanted. Sir."
The Captain smiled back. "Dismissed,
Commander."
"Yes sir." And with that, Will Riker turned on
his heel and walked off the bridge of the Enterprise.
*
The air was fresh, the grass was lush and
slightly damp beneath his bare feet, and Riker found
himself stepping carefully so as to flatten every
blade beneath his tread. He smiled at the familiar
coolness of each step, thinking back to the first
time he had tried it, when Deanna had insisted he
take his shoes off one summer day back on Betazed.
Her eyes were bright and filled with laughter when he
refused to comply at first, but then he had -- and it
had been a wonderful afternoon thereafter. Very
wonderful -- a slow smile filled his expression as he
found himself reliving a memory from so many years
ago. But quickly as it had appeared, the smile died
on his lips and he gazed out at the sky overhead. It
wasn't the same. It would never be the same again.
"Computer, end prog-"
"Will, why are you doing this to yourself?"
Riker clamped his mouth shut and turned slowly.
He knew it had been a foolish idea when he'd decided
to try it, and now he was even more convinced than
ever. A holographic representation of Deanna, even
programmed with what the computer knew of her
personality, would never be like her. Still, as his
body came fully about and he saw her standing only
two short meters away, he couldn't bring himself to
end the simulation. His eyes devoured her where she
stood, his hands clenched and unclenched at his
sides.
"Because." He shrugged and then whispered. "I
never deserved you.."
She smiled at him. It was the same, warm,
wonderful smile that he remembered. Only not. He
swallowed.
"Why would you say that?" Her voice was light,
and as he sank to a seated position in the damp grass
beneath him, she did the same so that they were face
to face. "Are you saying you didn't love me?"
His eyebrows rose. Either the computer was a
little too intuitive for his liking, or he had
programmed her just a bit too accurately. He frowned
for a moment, but then decided to play along. As he
so often was fond of saying -- what the hell, right?
"I've always loved you." He answered simply.
"And I you." She folded her hands serenely in
her lap. "That was never our problem was it?"
"You know," He shook his head. "I wish that
you really were Deanna. And not just because you'd
be alive -- here with me now -- but because we've
never really had this out. I don't know exactly what
our 'problem' was, but I guess now I'll never find
out. Not for sure, anyway." He sighed.
"You don't think that talking with me will
help." She frowned sadly and Riker could have sworn
she actually felt that way. He peered at her
quizzically.
"No, that's not what I meant. Wait a second,
why am I apologizing to a hologram?"
"Maybe because you feel as though you should
have apologized before I died." She caught and held
his gaze.
"Yeah." He watched her thoughtfully. "I
tried-"
"No, Will. You weren't able to. Not until it
was too late."
"That is not fair!" He suddenly yanked out a
handful of grass, sending it flying.
"Why." She sat forward. "Why isn't it fair?
What do you think would have been more 'fair'?"
"Just a damn minute." Riker clawed his hair
back from his face. "How the hell did you know I
waited until it was too late... I never programmed
that information..." He threw her a suspicious look
but she stared back at him innocently enough. Maybe
the computer had just added a little more to her
personality than he would have liked. That was
probably all it was. But how would the computer have
interpreted what he said to Deanna?
"Will," Troi stood suddenly, her dark eyes
caught in his expression. "We have to save the
child. You have to take me back. To Ikerra. I
can't go home without her..."
"What?" He jumped to his feet and strode
toward her. "Who are you?"
Troi's holographic figure flickered several
times as he approached, and then she disappeared,
leaving nothing but the suggestion of a breeze in her
wake. It was then that Riker realized he had never
activated the character. He had programmed her but
never brought her into the scenario. She had
appeared all on her own.
"Computer!" He barked. "End program."
A black and yellow grid materialized around him
and Will examined it from corner to corner
suspiciously. When his scrutiny found nothing, the
Commander strode purposefully through the doorway out
into the corridor.
--o--
--------
Chapter 29
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Destiny is not a matter of chance,
it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing
to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved."
--William Jennings Bryan
--------
According to Betazoid tradition, Deanna's body
had been placed in stasis for transport planetside.
Doubtless, there would be a memorial service held
near the Troi estate later in the week. For the
moment however, her body lay interred in a glass-like
pod through which her face and upper torso could
clearly be seen. If a person didn't know any
better, it might even have appeared as though the
Counselor were merely asleep. Except that she wasn't
asleep, she was gone...
Riker pulled on a survival pack and shoved the
errant thought from his mind. Deanna was the last
thing he needed to think about right now. Especially
because she was the foremost thing on everyone else's
mind. It was bad enough that the Doctor had insisted
they cart the stasis unit down to the planet's
surface with them. But if the others wanted to hold
out some irrational sense of hope that she would
somehow come back to them, that was their problem.
He wouldn't allow his heart to break into any more
pieces than it already had.
"Commander.." Geordi edged his way in between
Riker's gear and the wall. "You don't have to carry
everything, you know. Data and I can take some of
that.."
"It's fine." Riker shrugged, turning away to
fasten the load around his midriff. LaForge threw
Data a questioning glance, but the android merely
shrugged and the two Lieutenants took their positions
next to the pod on the transporter pad.
"Sorry I'm late," a slightly annoyed Beverly
Crusher slipped through the doorway. "There was a
mix up in sick-bay." She threw Riker an apologetic
glance, though he made no comment.
"Are we ready?" The commander glanced at each
of his officers one at a time. "We're going to have
no more than an hour down there, so whatever we need
to do, it better be done by then. I don't know about
the rest of you, but I won't relish spending four
extra hours waiting around for the next transport
window if we miss this one. Understood?"
"Yes, sir." LaForge nodded his ascent for all
of them.
"Energize." Riker made the call, standing
stiffly in place until the familiar prickle of
transport engulfed them all.
*
Ikerra looked exactly as it had five days ago.
Dusty crags littering a cacophony of cave-like
structures on a wind-swept desert landscape greeted
the away team the moment they materialized from
transport. Riker thought he might have made a snarky
comment about the 'ancient west' back on Earth. At
least he would have done, if Deanna had been with
them to appreciate it; since that particular period
of Terran history was always her favorite. But she
wasn't here, and so he kept his thoughts to himself,
choosing to ignore the dull ache in his chest which
followed as punishment.
"Data, Geordi, lets see if we can pick up
similar readings from that cave we were in last time.
I think that's probably our best bet right off the
bat." Riker turned to Crusher. "Doctor, I realize
you and Data had no luck communicating with our
'visitor' on board the Enterprise, but do you think
it's possible that it may have followed us again?"
"Actually, I think that's a good possibility.
But of course, there's no way to know for sure."
"Beverly, I don't even know what it is we're
supposed to be doing down here. Frankly, this whole
thing makes no sense to me. But this is your
mission, and the Captain intends for you to have it.
So be my guest-" He held out his hand and Crusher
frowned.
"You don't see a connection, do you?" She
asked.
Riker met her serious expression for a moment
and then shrugged. "Not really, no."
"What gets me, is that there was nothing after
the episode in the conference room." She glanced up
at him and chewed her lip thoughtfully. "You'd think
that an intelligent being which was obviously trying
to communicate with us, would have done *something*
after that moment. But there was nothing." She
sighed.
"Maybe there was something..." Riker cleared
his throat.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, there was a moment-" He trailed off,
uncertain how to proceed. How was he supposed to
tell her that he'd created a holographic
representation of Deanna, but that he hadn't
activated it? How was he to admit that it appeared
on its own, and though it looked and sounded like
Deanna Troi, it certainly said some very strange
things to him. That was the kind of thing Reg
Barclay would have done. Not Will Riker. He sucked
in a frustrated breath.
"Will, now is not the time to be coy. If you
saw something, we need to know what it was." Crusher
leaned forward, touching his arm encouragingly.
"I was in the holodeck briefly. I saw -- a
character -- who looked a lot like Deanna." He
pulled down on his uniform self-consciously. "She
said something odd. She said, 'We have to save the
child. You have to take me back. To Ikerra. I
can't go home without her...'"
Beverly's gaze focussed sharply. "What else?"
"Nothing. There was nothing else. I tried to
ask her a question but she vanished."
"And you didn't think that was important?"
Beverly scolded incredulously, but then her anger
deflated and she sighed. It was fairly obvious why
Will had kept this to himself until now, and she
found that she couldn't really blame him. "I'm
sorry," she whispered, "at least this means it's
possible that something did follow us down here."
"Possible," he echoed uncertainly, "but to be
honest with you Bev, I still don't see why you think
this has something to do with Deanna," Riker
muttered.
"I'm not certain, either," she admitted.
"Maybe it doesn't. But what if it does, Will? Don't
you think we owe it to Deanna, and to ourselves to
look into it? No matter what the outcome?" Her
hand had come to rest on his arm again and he stared
at her fingers for a time.
"Maybe." He inhaled deeply. "I just," he
whispered. "I don't want to-"
"I know," Beverly squeezed his arm gently. "I
know."
"Doctor!" It was Geordi's voice, and it turned
both Will and Beverly from their quiet exchange. "I
think we've got something over here. The readings
are off the scale."
Both Crusher and Riker exchanged a meaningful
look and then hurried toward the cave. Within
moments they were standing beneath a canopy of rock,
staring into a dusty corner where Data had a
Tricorder pinned on absolutely nothing.
"I don't see anything," Riker noted the
obvious. "What are you getting?"
"An unusually high reading for the chemical
compound, just beyond this wall," Data looked up from
his readings momentarily and Riker nodded, but before
the Commander could respond, the android spoke again.
"There is also a human lifesign, precisely one meter
in this direction." He inclined his head toward the
rockface.
"A human lifesign?" Riker threw out an
incredulous look, staring at the empty wall ahead.
"Data, that puts the lifesign directly in front of
you -- *in* the cave. That's not possible."
"That is correct, sir." Data replied,
nonplused. "I have recalibrated the Tricorder
sensors three times in the past minute. There is no
mistake. The lifesign appears to be inside the cave,
with us."
Riker opened his mouth to speak again when the
air shifted and rippled softly. In a matter of
moments, it was clear that a humanoid life-form was
indeed taking shape. It appeared to be forming
itself from tiny, minute filaments which lengthened
and grew, seemingly of their own accord from the air
in the cavern. It was only when the figure had
finally solidified, and Beverly uttered an audible
gasp of surprise that the rest of them recognized
their 'intruder'.
"Wes!" Crusher's voice rose up above the
others as a tall, lanky version of the young man
they'd known -- now slightly older -- came forward
from the shadows. He looked -- guilty -- to say
the least, and Riker examined him closely as a
result.
"I'm sorry mom, I'm not supposed to be here.."
He admitted shyly, glancing around. "If they catch
me, I'm going to be in trouble. Well," he smiled
endearingly. "A little trouble, anyway. Nothing
like the trouble I got into when you caught me
digging up your tulips for my science project that
year.."
Beverly laughed through a pair of tearful eyes
and skipped forward, catching her son into a
desperate embrace. When she finally allowed him room
to breath once more, she held his shoulders at arms
length, examining him in a way that only a mother
could. "What are you doing here?" She asked, "were
you on board the Enterprise?"
The younger Crusher smiled. "Yes," he answered
simply. "But I wasn't alone." He hung his head and
sighed. "There's so much I want to be able to tell
you-" His gaze met his mother's and then Will
Riker's, "all of you. But I can't," and then his
expression grew serious. "All I can tell you is that
we weren't supposed to meet here this way. There is
a species, a life form, which lives on this planet.
They're far more advanced than the Ikerrim.." Wesley
paused for emphasis.
"Do they have a name?" Crusher asked, still
touching her son.
"Not that you'd be able to pronounce." Wes
grinned. "We -- I," he corrected too quickly. "I
was here with them when the Enterprise arrived. One
of their people was curious. He disobeyed a direct
instruction and followed your team back on board the
ship. But in fairness to him, I think he had a good
reason.." The younger Crusher shrugged
apologetically and Riker stepped forward.
"Wes," He offered the young man a serious
expression. "It's not that I'm not happy to see you
again, I am. We've all missed you. But I think what
we all need to know right now is whether or not this
has anything to do with Deanna?" He spoke carefully,
watching Crusher for any facial expression which he
might be able to read.
"Yes." This time Wesley nodded emphatically.
"Yes, it has everything to do with the Counselor..."
Casting a sidelong glance at the stasis pod nearby,
he swallowed. "That's why I came. I wanted to
explain, even if it means I get in trouble. I don't
want Deanna to die.."
"I am afraid you are too late, Wesley." Data
shook his head in as 'sad' a manner as he was able to
emulate without wearing his emotion chip.
"Mom." Wesley turned toward Beverly. "I was
going to tell you that night in your quarters, when
you were at your mirror. I started to come out of
the phase shift, but they almost caught me. I had to
skip back inside. I touched you -- by mistake --
just as I was pulled away. And then I couldn't get
to you again in time ... it was my fault that you
were hurt." He dropped his head. "I'm really sorry,
I wanted to-"
"It's all right." Crusher whispered, squeezing
her son's hand. "I was okay. Just -- confused, more
than anything else. Why won't they let you talk to
us?" She furrowed her brow worriedly.
"It's not that -- exactly. It's a little like
the Federation's prime directive." He smiled,
chagrined. "You're not advanced enough yet. And
we're not really supposed to interfere with the
maturation process of any species. Even this one.."
He indicated the empty cavern around them with a
sweep of his hand. "They can see us ... we just
can't see them in this phase."
"Can they come out of phase?" Riker asked. "In
order to communicate?"
"Yeah," Wesley nodded. "That's what I-" The
young man trailed off, and all of them turned at the
flash of light which seemed to be emanating from the
corner next to the stasis unit. Riker took a step
toward it, but Wesley came forward and held him back
with an arm.
"No. Commander, this is why I'm here." Wesley
herded the group backward until they stood up against
a far wall. He exhaled thoughtfully. "This species
has no means of direct procreation. They reproduce
by virtue of a powerful form of genesis which
transcends physical birth," The younger Crusher
paused as though uncertain how to translate a
fragment of foreign knowledge, "The energy which
makes their genesis possible is rare. It comes in
several forms, but one of those forms is the means by
which telepathic species communicate."
"Like Betazoids?" Geordi tipped his head. "Is
that why the chemical compound here is so dangerous
to them?"
"Not dangerous." Wesley corrected, "Not
exactly. You only perceive it to be dangerous
because in every other instance, the process has been
halted half way. The subject was removed and never
returned. Modern medical science, even Federation
medical science," He smiled at his mother, "can't
help someone once its gone to a certain stage. And
so they die. But it's not just them. There are two
deaths, every time." Crusher paused. "I shouldn't
be telling you this, but I think I have to in order
for you to understand.."
"Believe me," Riker quipped dryly. "We
appreciate the favor."
"I know, Commander." Wesley glanced up at
Riker and somehow, something in his expression made
him seem to be far wiser than his years, "I know how
this seems, but you have to remember that Starfleet's
prime directive isn't much different from what you're
hearing right now. And you follow it every day. You
taught me to follow it before I left.."
"That I did." Will conceded, smiling at a
memory which now seemed as distant as the stars.
"You're right, Wesley. I apologize."
"No problem," Crusher grinned, back to his
boyish charm. "I understand. Anyway," he
continued, serious once more. "this particular
chemical compound is more than just a gathering of
molecules. It also contains the energy of an entire
species. It's not finite, it isn't like babies or
embryos, or anything like that," he frowned in
frustration. "It just means that when a host is
found with enough complimentary energy of its own, a
place where maturation can occur, then a new life is
-- well, for lack of a better word, born."
"So these -- beings -- use telepathic species
as hosts to bear their children?" Beverly asked.
"They must not procreate often, this portion of the
planet is usually uninhabited.."
"Like I said," Wesley reiterated patiently.
"one of the energy forms which makes their genesis
possible is found in the means by which telepathic
species communicate."
"Well that was vague." Crusher admonished, and
was gratified to see her son's cheeks turn slightly
red.
"Mom--if I could tell you more-"
"I know. You would." She smiled at him
anyway, proud as ever. "So the reason Deanna was
'chosen', Betazoids in general.."
"She's higher up on the evolutionary food chain
than you are. Sorry." The younger Crusher grinned.
"What you haven't told us," Riker ventured
carefully, glancing at the luminous hovering orb
which maintained its position near the opposite wall,
"is whether or not it's already too late for Deanna.
You said -- you didn't want her to die. Does that
mean there's still time?" He couldn't keep the hope
from his voice, and it was bolstered tenfold when
Wesley began to nod.
"My friend over there," He indicated the orb of
light. "Was with me on the Enterprise. I followed
him up when he went AWOL. He was trying to
communicate with you, in order to save both lives.
But you didn't understand."
"Save this child.." Beverly murmured. "That's
what he was saying.."
"Yeah." Wesley sighed. "There's a catch
though."
"What catch?" Riker asked with difficulty,
feeling his heart pounding like a jackhammer on the
inside of his chest at the very possibility that
something might be done for Deanna..
"In order to save Deanna's life," Wesley
dropped his gaze momentarily, "my friend has to die."
"Die?" Beverly echoed, trading a glance between
the entity and her son. "Are you certain? Isn't
there any other-"
"No, mom," he shook his head. "Don't be upset.
It really is a part of their evolutionary cycle.
When one of them is born, another must die. He's
very old. Older than you or I can even comprehend.
It's just his time."
"What's he doing right now?" Riker asked,
watching the life form flicker without moving. It
remained exactly where it had been from the moment it
appeared.
"He's waiting for the child." Beverly
whispered. "Something's going to happen, isn't it?"
She turned to her son and he nodded.
"Something amazing."
And happen it did. A flicker of light within
the stasis pod transformed into a shimmering glow
which enveloped the entire far wall of the cave,
causing tiny diamond-like fragments to sparkle on its
surface. The away-team shielded their eyes from the
brightness, watching through half closed lids as the
glow began to subside.
There were suddenly two presences floating
above the immobile stasis pod. One which remained
from before, and a new one. A light which seemed only
slightly darker in color. The entire process had
taken less than half a standard minute to complete.
"That's it?" Beverly shook her head in
disbelief.
"It's over." Wesley sighed. "The new child was
borrowing its energy from the Counselor. It needed
her strength in order to live." He held his hands at
his sides, seemingly unaffected by the light. "Now
that it's been born, he or she will join the others.
My friend will stay."
"You mean you don't know whether its a boy or a
girl?" Crusher asked coyly.
"They do have a gender distinction. But I
can't tell from here," Wesley blushed. "The problem
-- is that the energy which was taken from Deanna was
also the energy which was keeping her alive. At the
cellular level," he continued. "If it isn't restored
to her-"
"I think I understand," Crusher began.
"My friend is going to give back what was
taken," He exhaled softly and the smaller of the two
beings moved off, disappearing into a nearby wall.
"I don't know who you are," Riker suddenly
spoke up in the direction of the light which remained
behind. "I know we've never formally met, but I want
you to know that for what you are about to do, I will
always be grateful to you..." He trailed off
quietly, watching as the being flickered several
times.
"He doesn't understand all of the words you've
spoken, Commander." Wesley smiled slightly. "But he
can feel what's in your heart. He wants me to tell
you: 'It's wasn't too late.'. He imagines you'll
understand what that means."
Riker said nothing for a time, and then dropped
his gaze. "I do," he whispered.
"It's time," The younger Crusher looked at
each of the away-team members in turn. "And I have
to go even sooner. Maybe next time they'll let me
stay for a while and visit. I miss all of you..."
"You have to leave already?" Beverly caught her
son's helpless expression, but before she would cry
once more, she came forward to hug him instead.
"Don't be a stranger, Wes..." she whispered into his
hair.
"I'll try not to."
"Perhaps when you return, you will be able to
catch us all up on your love life?" Data inquired
innocently and Wesley blushed a deep crimson which
made his mother grin.
"Maybe, Data." The young man still managed.
"Maybe by then, there'll be something to tell!"
Wesley smiled at each of them, and then touched a
device on his arm. His clothing was the first to
fade as the phase shift began.
"I'll miss you, Wes." Crusher whispered
softly, watching as the rest of her son finally
disappeared from view. She hung her head.
They'd had little time to reflect on his
departure however, when the light above Deanna's
stasis pod began a descent. Encountering no visible
resistance, it passed through titanium and
transparent aluminum, flashed for the briefest of
moments, and then it was gone.
There was silence in the cavern. Silence as
Beverly Crusher made her way forward -- the only
member of the away-team to move after the event. She
picked a pathway through the scattered stones on the
cave floor until she reached the edge of the blinking
unit. For a time, she merely stood over it,
looking inside. Her face was a mask of neutrality.
Moments passed and she looked back at the team,
her gaze finally resting on Riker. She shrugged. "I
don't know.." Punching in a numerical access code,
Crusher heard the hiss of the unit as it unsealed,
watched the lid slide open and heard -- only dimly --
the sound of footsteps approach from behind her.
Reaching within, she placed her fingers against
the Counselor's neck, holding a Tricorder in the
other hand. "She isn't breathing," Beverly
whispered. "But her skin is very warm. Lets get her
back to the Enterprise. I'm not giving up on her
this time.." Crusher tapped her badge and issued an
order for immediate transport directly to Sickbay.
Just as the prickle of the beam took over their
bodies, Riker sent forth a silent prayer to whichever
deity may have been listening that somehow, some way
-- no matter the cost to him -- she would live.
--o--
--------
Chapter 30
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Darkness cannot drive out darkness;
only light can do that. Hate cannot drive
out hate; only love can do that."
--Martin Luther King, Jr
--------
Pacing back and forth had become a mainstay in
Will's existence over the past two hours. He had
been in sickbay from the moment they'd beamed back on
board, but he hadn't seen Deanna. She was whisked
away no sooner than their proximal forms
materialized. Right now, she was with Doctor Crusher
and a small army of medical staff, cloistered in a
critical care unit whose hermetically sealed entrance
hadn't re-opened since the instant they'd brought the
Counselor inside.
Will's fingers curled upward and then out once
more; his body grew tense and then relaxed. There
seemed to be no mid-point for him anymore and he felt
like a caged animal, only partially aware of his
surroundings. Time slipped away from one moment to
the next and he might have sworn he heard each second
ticking maniacally, like an ancient clock inside his
mind. What was happening? How was she? Was there
hope? Why hadn't they told him anything? He balled
up his fists until the short edges of his own
fingernails began to bite into his skin.
"Will," He heard a voice and spun around,
watching in what seemed to be slow-motion as Crusher
emerged from the critical care suite, sealing the
door once more behind her. She was carrying her
surgical hat in her hand. What did that mean?
"Doctor." He met her eyes and swallowed. It
was time. She had something to say. He held his
breath. But then she did something which would stay
in his mind for the rest of his life.
She smiled.
A bright, beautiful, wonderfully happy smile
which lit up the room and lit up his heart in the
very same instant.
"We did it..!" She whispered excitedly,
throwing her hat in the air and bounding forward into
his arms. Riker found himself hugging her back,
half in a daze. Her words still sang in his mind.
"Deanna's going to be fine, Will. She's going to be
just fine!"
"Oh.. my god," he whispered, holding her more
fiercely before letting her go. "Did you say fine?
She's going to be-?" His hands were trembling where
they'd fallen to his sides and his eyes burned from
the effort it took to speak.
"Fine," Crusher sighed deeply, as though she
too had forgotten to breath in the past two hours.
"She's sleeping now. They're bringing her into a
room," Beverly caught and held Will's gaze. "But you
can see her the moment she's out. She'll be down for
a while at least. I've given her something to keep
her from waking too soon, but you can certainly sit
with her if you'd like.."
If he'd like? "Oh God, Beverly. Thank you--
thank you so much-" He came forward and embraced her
once more, holding onto her as though the life she
had saved was his own. And perhaps, in a way, it
was.
"We should be thanking Wesley's friend, I
think," Beverly smiled as she gently extricated
herself from Riker's brawny hold. "Whatever he
returned to Deanna seemed to bring her back a little
at a time," She dropped her gaze and shook her head
thoughtfully. "I did have to re-start most of her
vital systems, but there was no apparent cellular
damage. No brain trauma. With a person who'd
essentially been gone over thirty hours, do you have
any idea how incredible that is?" She asked the
question, but Will was already beyond hearing it.
He watched through haunted eyes as the rear door to
the critical care unit hissed silently aside and he
could see beyond one of the transparent dividers in
sickbay.
Four medical officers surrounded a bio-bed in a
remote corner of the room. After keying what
appeared to be a never-ending string of commands into
a console on the wall, the team disbanded, walking
back toward their offices. That was when he finally
saw her, or perhaps more incredible still -- felt her
living spirit. Felt the achingly familiar presence
in his mind that was barely a breath of warm
sensation; a breath of sensation which had torn away
half of his soul upon its departure.
"Can I-?" He murmured, turning as though he
only just remembered the Doctor was with him.
Beverly smiled knowingly and nodded, touching the
doorplate to the main area behind her so that it slid
open for him. Riker needed no further encouragement.
Slowly, deliberately, taking each step as though to
solidify in his mind that this was really happening,
he made his way through the now-open entry. As he
passed Doctor Crusher without so much as a further
glance in her direction, Beverly touched his arm.
"I'll see that you have some privacy, for a
while," she whispered. Will nodded his
acknowledgment, eyes still forward. A moment later,
he heard the door slide shut behind him. Three
moments after that, he was standing over Deanna.
Looking down on her; watching the rise and fall
of her breast as she took in each breath, the air in
his own throat seemed to catch. The pain behind his
eyes became unbearable and he sank to his knees at
her bedside, placing his hands reverently over the
smooth shiny cloth that covered her form. Her long
raven hair fanned out beneath her head, her eyes were
closed in slumber and her expression was utterly
serene. Will reached beneath the coverlet and found
her hand, folding it within his. It was warm -- she
was warm. Soft and warm and real.
The firewall within him forged a crack, first
along the edges and then directly through the middle.
It shattered into a billion points of light inside
his mind. There, the heat of angry passion met the
cold fury of sorrow, and when he could hold the two
at bay no longer, only then, did he finally, truly --
allow himself defeat. For the first time in his life
since he was four years old, the tears that fell were
innocent.
--o--
--------
Chapter 31
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Few are those who see with their own eyes
and feel with their own hearts."
--Albert Einstein
--------
When Doctor Crusher emerged into the quiet of
sick-bay recovery, she found Deanna awake. It had
been nearly six hours since the Counselor's emergence
from medical scrutiny and Beverly felt it was time to
check on her once more. The Captain, Data, Geordi,
Worf and several other members of the crew had
already stopped by to visit, most arriving within
half an hour of Riker. They came and they left, but
Deanna had slept through all of it.
Watching from where she stood, Crusher was able
to make out the Counselor's smile as she approached
and she couldn't have been more relieved. As Jean-
Luc had so gently reminded her, it was never easy to
lose a dear friend, but she had almost forgotten how
much such a loss could hurt. Swallowing the unwanted
emotion, Beverly sucked in a quick breath of air and
continued forward. She had opened her mouth to greet
the other woman when Deanna shook her head and raised
her finger to her lips. She pointed downward.
It was then that Crusher noticed the unmoving
form of the Commander. He had found a nearby chair
and now sat in it, though his body laid forward and
his head had come to rest at the edge of Deanna's
pelvis. Since she had been laying in a semi-upright
position to begin with, this placed his head
effectively in her lap. And he was very definitely
asleep. Still, he had managed somehow to keep hold
of the Counselor's hand; his fingers wrapped around
hers, even in slumber.
"He's exhausted," Deanna whispered softly, "I
can barely sense him," she threw Crusher an
admonishing glance. "How long has it been since he
slept?"
"Deanna," Beverly quipped, "on the day Will
Riker listens to a damn thing I say..."
Troi shook her head and afforded her friend a
rueful smile. "Well, he's sleeping right now and I
don't want to wake him, if that's all right." She
indicated the medical kit in Beverly's hands,
obviously meant for her.
"Hey, as far as I'm concerned, he can have the
bio-bed right next to yours."
Troi let her gaze wander over the features of
the sleeping Commander. She drew her fingers lightly
through his hair. "He can stay here, I don't mind.
He isn't dreaming right now," she whispered, "and
that's probably a good thing."
Beverly narrowed her eyes quizzically. "You
wouldn't get that from simple empathy, would you?
How do you know that he isn't dreaming?"
Deanna shrugged half-heartedly and looked up at
her friend. "There are certain types of emotions
which are generally associated with dreaming among
humans, but you're right in a way. I suppose -- I
just do," she said simply.
"Yes, but would you be so certain if he were
anyone else?" Crusher offered Troi a wry glance.
"Probably not." Deanna smiled down at Will.
The two women were silent for a time, and
Beverly sat on the edge of an empty bed near Troi's.
"We all missed you, Deanna. We all mourned for you
in a way I can't even articulate. And I'm so happy
that things turned out the way they did. All of us
are. There really aren't any words..." Crusher
trailed off.
"There don't have to be." The Counselor
regarded her friend seriously. "I'm sorry that I was
the cause of so much pain for all of you, Beverly.
But on the other hand, I don't think I have ever felt
more love and stability than in these past few days.
You are my family out here in space. All of you.
You're the only family that I have, apart from my
mother. I cherish you all. And in a way, perhaps
it was a blessing for me to realize that those
feelings have always been returned."
"Of course they've been returned!" Crusher
raised the decibel of her whisper only slightly as
she leaned forward to hug her friend, careful not to
disturb the precious cargo in Troi's lap. Emerging
from their embrace, Beverly caught sight of Will and
her look moved between the Commander and the
Counselor. "Deanna, you know I wouldn't ever try
and interfere in your personal life," she began,
shrugging off Troi's obviously indulgent smile. "But
you should have seen Will when all of this
happened.."
Deanna dropped her gaze. "I know," she
whispered.
"I don't know what happened between you and
Will in the past week, and I'm not sure what's going
to happen in the future. But I do know that I
learned two things about Will Riker with absolute
certainty since the day you got sick."
"Two things?"
Beverly nodded. "That he's fluent in Betazin,"
she smiled when she saw Deanna's answering grin.
"Who would have thought?"
Troi stared down at Will affectionately. "To
be honest, that surprised me as well on the day I
realized."
"And that he's absolutely, completely in love
with you." The Doctor watched her patient. Deanna's
hand continued to play with short tendrils of Will's
hair, and she looked down on him while Beverly spoke.
The Counselor did not reply.
Without waiting for acknowledgement, Crusher
nodded in understanding. She placed her hand against
Deanna's arm and squeezed gently. "I didn't say that
to upset you," she whispered.
"You didn't," Troi lifted her head, eyes
bright.
"Good." Beverly stood. "Then I guess I can
leave you two alone for a while," she shifted the
med-kit to her other hand. "This can wait until
later."
"Thank you." Deanna smiled gratefully.
"Well don't thank me just yet." Crusher
admonished. "You're not getting out if it all
together. You still owe me a complete examination,
and I intend to collect."
"Yes, Doctor." Troi hung her head, contrite
without a moment's sincerity. She watched the other
woman turn and leave the room, saw the door hiss shut
behind her and then returned her attention to the
warm weight in her lap. "Well," she whispered,
"looks like it's just you and me, Imzadi." Her
fingers took up more of his hair and she caressed it
lightly. His breathing was even and regular, though
he hadn't once stirred. She shut her own eyes and
exhaled slowly, allowing her sense of him to creep
slowly back inside her mind. She felt his presence
join with hers just as sleep overtook her once more.
--o--
--------
Chapter 32
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"I am certain of nothing but the holiness
of the heart's affections, and the truth of
imagination."
--John Keats
--------
"Your hair is a mess."
Riker had been sitting, leaning off to one side
of his chair, staring out at sickbay somewhat blankly
when he heard Deanna's voice. She had been asleep
for so long, he found himself drifting in and out of
slumber himself while waiting for her to wake up.
The exhaustion of the past two days, both mental and
physical, had taken their toll on him. And though he
would have been reticent to admit it, falling asleep
so near Deanna's warm body hadn't exactly been much
of a hardship for him, all things considered.
He turned without thinking and found himself
promptly lost in a pair of sultry dark eyes. A
slight smile touched the corners of her lips and
Riker devoured her features like too much fine wine.
His hair was a mess? Maybe so, but Deanna's hair was
nothing short of magnificent, recently brushed -- no
doubt by herself -- it fell loosely down her back; a
tapestry of long ebony curls.
"You look so beautiful," he whispered, still
caught up in the newness of her. The reality of her
living, breathing presence. He could see the color
which stole into her features at the compliment. But
she had always been that way. She was without a
doubt the most beautiful woman that he had ever
known, and she was well aware of her own attributes,
certainly. Yet every physical compliment he had ever
seen her receive would cause her to blush and to duck
her head nervously before the obvious polite response
could be spoken. "I missed you," he went on.
"I'm so sorry," she lifted her hand from her
lap and placed it lightly against his bearded cheek.
"For what you went through. For me."
"Never be sorry." He gathered her outstretched
hand in his and held it firmly. "I'm not," he smiled
at her and she dropped her head. "How much do you
remember?"
"Everything," she whispered, her gaze locked
with his.
Everything? His mind spun backward. Did she
remember what he had said to her, in the end? Had
she still been able to hear him even then? He had to
know... "The last thing you said to me.." He
trailed off.
"About the first time we were together?"
Deanna provided, sitting upright.
Riker searched her expression for a moment and
then nodded slowly. "Yeah," he sighed. So she
hadn't heard the rest of it. A part of him was
relieved. Another part of him-
"Will, I meant what I said." She squeezed his
hand. "Words are -- they're not important to me."
Riker levelled his gaze on Troi and found
himself thinking. She had come to him when she knew
that there was so little time. She had found him,
and they had rekindled something they'd sworn
together would never happen while serving on board
the same ship. Or she had made him swear, at least.
They had been together again, intimately, in every
way. And it had been the most -- incredible -- four
days. She had told him that she loved him; that she
wanted to be with him. She had asked him for the
same, but there were so many reasons why he hadn't
been able to answer her. Not the least of which was
her state of mind. After all, he conceded, being
informed that you had less than a week left to live
could do just about anything to a person. Just about
anything at all-
Riker frowned at the course his thoughts had
taken. But now that she was awake; alive; here with
him, he found he had little choice. What if she had
come to him, only because there would be no
ramifications? And now that she had a life and a
future ahead of her. A career on board the
Enterprise along side his own. What would they do?
How could things change? And even if they did --
would it really be what she wanted, when she hadn't
wanted it for so many other years. Was she being
this way with him now, only because she knew what she
had said earlier? He swallowed the growing
discomfort in his throat.
"Deanna, things were -- good for us before.
Weren't they?" He watched her expression shift from
confusion into something less tangible.
"Before what?" She asked carefully, still
holding his hand.
"Well," He cleared his throat. "I mean, when
we were friends. Serving on board the same ship..."
He used the same turn of phrase which she herself had
coined, hoping it would resonate with her. It did.
She dropped his hand and her posture stiffened
slightly.
"Yes," She nodded. "I guess they were."
"I thought so too." He nodded, feeling the
loss of her hand in his more keenly than he would
have liked. But this was a way out. This was a
chance for her, to take if she needed to. It was a
chance he had to grant her, because not to grant it
to her would be -- unthinkable.
"Right." Deanna swallowed visibly, and it
seemed to Will for only a moment, that the sharp stab
of pain he felt his heart did not belong solely to
himself.
"You're my best friend, Deanna. The best
friend I've ever had," his voice sounded hollow, even
to his own ears.
"Me too." She nodded back at him, her eyes
glassy.
"Well," he whispered, standing before he might
lose any more of his tenuous control. "I'm so glad
you're okay. I don't know what I would have done,"
he paused, "without you." Looking down on her from
above, Riker now noticed that she was fidgeting with
a small section of her coverlet, twisting it in her
hands while her head remained bowed. "I'd um,
better go check on things. I haven't been on duty in
almost twelve hours." He leaned forward and pressed
his lips gently against her forehead, ignoring the
look in her eyes lest he try even harder to convince
himself that it meant more than it probably did. "Be
well. I'll see you tonight? It is Thursday, maybe
we can have dinner, same time same place?" Calling
up one of his signature grins, Riker waited until
Troi had smiled back at him and nodded. "Good.
I'll see you then."
"See you then," she whispered. Well, that was
that. Good thing he hadn't done anything foolish.
Will turned on his heel, "Will?" He heard her add,
and he glanced back automatically. "Thank you. For
staying with me. All this time.." Her dark eyes
followed him. He shook his head.
"No place else in the universe I'd rather have
been." Riker swallowed the titanium fist in his
throat and left sickbay for the first time in
thirteen hours.
*
For some time after he'd left, Deanna merely
stared at the doorway. The tears in her eyes had not
quite reached fruition, but the corner of her
coverlet was warm and wrinkled from the attention
she'd given it.
It didn't make sense. Why was he doing this?
Or maybe -- maybe it did make sense. Maybe that was
the reason she'd sensed in him. The reason he hadn't
been able to speak the words she knew were in his
heart. For the past four days, there had been no
consequence to their lovemaking. No possible outcome
-- save one. She had known it, and so had he. They
had entered into something of a 'new contract' as a
result. But now the coins were flipped, scattered
about in disarray. Nothing was certain and
everything yet to be written. He was Will Riker,
first officer of the Flag Ship of the Federation.
She was Deanna Troi, Counselor and Commander. And
where did that leave room for "Will and Deanna"? It
didn't. That was where. That was the reason she had
initially begged him not to cross those boundaries.
Entering into something which, although gratifying in
the short term, would certainly lead to heartache for
both of them in the long run. Not to mention the
lack of objectivity it might engender on any regular
basis.
He had known that everything would change if
they were to be together. And there were just too
many reasons why it couldn't change. Not now. Maybe
not ever. Troi's frustration finally reached its
apex and the tears began to fall. She understood the
reasons why he'd left. In her head, she knew them to
be the most logical decision for both of them. But
why did it have to hurt so much? Deanna drew her
knees up toward her chest and pressed her face
between them, sobbing bitterly and cursing the master
of fate.
--o--
--------
Chapter 33
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Hope is a strange invention--
A Patent of the Heart--
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out."
-Emily Dickinson
--------
The air was fresh, the grass was lush and
slightly damp beneath his bare feet, and Riker knew
that the last place in the universe he should
probably have been was back in a holographic
recreation of Betazoid reliving the past. His
rueful, self-deprecating smile was accompanied by a
shake of the head. At least this time, he had
deleted the character of Deanna. There would be no
more 'alien' surprises.
Shifting back and forth from one foot to the
other, he wiggled his toes in the wet grass. It
wasn't difficult to see why Deanna loved this so
much. It was so like her to commune -- in any
physical or mental way -- with nature. There was
something in the purity of it, which seemed to
describe the very essence of the young Counselor.
Riker sighed, watching in the distance as a
holographic representation of the University of
Betazoid loomed large.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?"
When he heard her voice this time, Riker nearly
fell over from the shock. He spun around and found
himself face to face with an obviously irate Deanna
Troi.
"Deanna?" He asked dumbly.
His question seemed to startle her. She shook
her head and regarded him quizzically. "Yes?"
Riker stepped carefully backward. "Sorry," he
muttered, still unconvinced. "It's just that -- the
last time I was in here, an alien who looked exactly
like you dropped by with the same pick-up line." He
realized how silly that sounded. But it was the
truth, and she would know that too. If she was
really Deanna.
"Pick-up line?" Troi placed both hands on her
hips. "I beg your pardon!" The venom in her voice
was powerful enough that Riker finally gave in.
"You really are Deanna..." He smiled.
"Well give the man a prize." Troi leaned
forward, suddenly curious. "Did the entity really
come in here and say that to you?"
He nodded slowly. "Word for word. That first
sentence anyway." He winked at her, and despite her
every effort, Troi couldn't keep from smiling. She
cleared her throat self-consciously.
"So," Deanna's hands remained akimbo on her
hips. "now that you're sure of who I am, are you
going to answer me?"
"Why am I doing this to myself?" Riker gestured
around him at the perfect day, the perfect scenario.
"Doing *what* to myself? Deanna, in case you hadn't
noticed, this is a beautiful program. I'm relaxing.
What is so wrong with that?"
"You know very well that's not what I meant."
She muttered angrily, advancing toward him. Despite
her obviously inferior size, Riker found himself
taking a step backward without meaning to.
"Is this the part where you tell me I'm an
idiot and I have to guess why?" He held up both
hands and regarded her warily. "I have to warn you,
I always tend to lose at that game.."
For a reason Riker was unable to fathom, his
comment seemed to have the exact opposite effect on
the Counselor that he would have bet on. She stopped
in her tracks, dropped her shoulders and appeared --
deflated.
"You know what?" She sighed softly. "I
probably shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry to have
intruded." Troi spoke sincerely and Riker watched
her turn away.
"Deanna, wait a second." He called. She
stopped. "Why did you come here?"
"I came because-" she began, obviously
struggling with the right words to say. When her
vocabulary failed her, the Counselor pressed her lips
together and shook her head. It was only because
Riker had been watching her expression so intently,
that he noticed there were tears in her eyes.
Thoughts of the holodeck, the strange
conversation he'd had with the entity, everything
else in the universe suddenly vanished and he moved
toward her on autopilot. "Hey," he whispered,
reaching her position and placing his hand beneath
her chin. "Hey, Deanna what's wrong? Are you
feeling all right? Did Doctor Crusher-"
Troi reached up and gently pushed his arm away.
"I'm fine," she lifted her head and swiped angrily at
an errant teardrop. "I don't even know why I'm here.
I don't seem to know anything anymore." Her hand on
his arm was trembling and so he placed his own larger
palm across the back of her fingers. When she said
nothing more but hadn't moved, Riker took the
entirety of her hand in his grasp. He laid the side
of his head across the top of hers and pulled her
close.
"If I tell you a secret, will you promise to
keep it?" He whispered into her hair. The warmth of
his breath made her shiver, but she managed a nod and
an answer.
"Yes."
Riker turned her so that they stood face to
face. "I'm sick of being friends." He brushed at
her tears. "I almost lost you.." He shut his eyes
and exhaled slowly before opening them once more.
"And when you came back, there was nothing in the
Universe I wanted more than to be with you, Deanna.
To always be with you." He held her face between his
palms, collecting moisture more quickly than he was
able to brush it away. "So you know what? To hell
with your rule. To hell with my promise to you," he
watched her eyes widen, but he was too committed to
his decision to turn back after saying so much. "I'm
going to kiss you right now. And I'm going to assume
that if you kiss me back, all bets are off, all
promises nullified," he heard her intake of breath
and placed his fingers across her lips before she
could speak. "And I'm going to make love with you,
tonight," Riker leaned in closer, the edge of his
face caressing hers. "and every other night, for as
long as you'll have me.."
He was so close now that she could feel the
warmth of his breath on her skin. As he tilted his
head, Troi found herself faced with the immediacy of
a decision. He was going to kiss her. In less than
a moment, his lips would press against hers and she
would have a choice to make -- if she even let him
get that far. Gods, who was she kidding? She could
barely breathe even now. If he touched her again,
she knew what would happen.
Deanna felt Will's hands slide down along her
neck, his fingertips now forging the only contact
between her skin and his. For an eternal instant, his
eyes looked directly into hers, searching for any
hint of discomfort. Any sign that she might push him
away. But there was none. She had made that
decision the moment he'd asked her to keep his
secret. And so he came forward. She felt the
warmth of his mouth descend upon hers and her own
head tipped backward, resting against her shoulders
as her eyes fell shut and her lips found his.
Riker lifted his hands and shifted them behind
her neck, offering support, as their kiss became an
almost desperate pull between them. He heard her
make a sound, a murmur of undeniable encouragement,
and so he pulled her toward him, molding their bodies
together as Deanna drew her arms around his neck.
Only when the demand for oxygen began to far outweigh
the rewards of such intimacy, did the two lovers
separate. Each of them flushed from the encounter,
breathing erratically while struggling to recapture
their equilibrium.
"You should take your shoes off," Riker smiled
down at Troi. Her lips were slightly parted and she
ran her tongue across them, swallowing lightly.
"Why would I want to do that?" She asked, eyes
sparkling in the artificial Betazoid sunshine.
"Because an angel of empathy once taught me to
appreciate the finer things in nature." Will
grinned, and Deanna reached suddenly forward,
wrapping her arms around his waist. She pulled him
down with her so that they sank into the damp grass
together.
"Would you take them off for me?" Her
expression turned serious and Riker nodded solemnly.
"Absolutely." His hands brushed over the
length of her casual pantsuit and finally lifted the
heel of one soft-soled shoe into his grasp. He
slipped it from her foot, placing it gently aside
before turning to perform the same task with the
other. His gaze lifted and met with hers.
"Thank you." She murmured, setting her feet
down softly in the grass. She placed both hands
behind her and leaned backward, enjoying the
sunlight. Will watched her for a time, and then did
the same. They sat side-by-side, staring up at the
clouds.
"So," he began. "We still on for dinner
tonight?"
Deanna threw him a sidelong glance. "It is
Thursday night."
He smiled. "Is that a yes, or a no..."
"Well," she shrugged. "I suppose dinner would
be nice." Her glance shifted forward. "If we don't
have anything better to do."
Riker eyebrow shot up but he said nothing
aloud, except. "I'd forgotten how beautiful this
place was."
"Mm." She nodded. "It's been a long time.
Too long, I think. I'd like to go back someday and
spend some time at home. There are times when I miss
it a great deal..." Her eyes left the clouds and
found Will's. "Would you go with me?"
If it were possible, the blue of his eyes grew
darker. He nodded slowly. "To the end of the
universe and back again." It was one of her favorite
lines of poetry and he knew that well. She smiled.
Reaching between them, Deanna slipped her hand within
Will's and he threaded his fingers with hers. They
said nothing for several more moments, content to
watch as fluffy white shapes drifted by overhead on
the breeze. They were remembering, and thinking.
Finally, Deanna spoke.
"You know, you've never been very good at
public affection when it meant something." Her voice
was soft. It held no accusation, only statement of
fact. Riker sighed.
"I guess -- it never fit in with the career."
He admitted. "Kissing a woman I barely know, in
public, is somehow a lot better for my professional
life than showing everyone-" He left off at a loss.
"A vulnerability?" Troi provided, still staring
at the clouds.
"Maybe. Something like that, I guess."
"I understand." Deanna tipped her head.
"It's not that I don't feel-" He frowned.
"Deanna, I love you." Will raised their joined hands
and kissed her fingertips.
"I know," she smiled, affording him an
affectionate glance. "I love you too. Someday,"
she whispered, "things will be easy."
"You think?" Riker turned to her, bemused.
"Well, it's worth hoping for, in any event."
Silence descended upon them once more and Riker
laid back completely in the grass, pulling Troi down
next to him. He squeezed her hand. "But we're
still on for dinner?"
"No." Deanna's answer startled him and he
turned his head to look over at her.
"No?" He echoed.
"No." She smiled, pulling herself up from the
waist; she used their joined hands as leverage and
then draped her legs across his waist, straddling his
midriff. "I have a better idea." Deanna leaned
forward all the way and silenced him with a playful
kiss, releasing his hand and extending her arms so
that she had lifted his hands high above his head.
"Isn't this a better idea?" She whispered, pressing
her lips against the side of his neck.
Will shut his eyes and exhaled. "Yeah," he
gaze reopened and he found her staring down at him.
"But is it legal?"
Troi chuckled softly and shrugged. "I don't
know. You're the XO around here. I was hoping you
might be able to pull a few strings," her lips traced
the edge of his mouth before pressing down and
inviting a long, searching kiss.
Will's hands moved along Deanna's arms,
caressing her through the fabric of the garment she
wore. He lifted his fingers to the catch at her neck
and toyed with the long, hanging bit of cloth.
"Here's a string." He kissed her again for emphasis.
"How about I pull this one?"
"Well, I don't know. That might just make
everything come undone.." She grinned at him, tipping
her head in a particularly endearing way. Riker
appeared disconsolate for a moment, frowning
convincingly.
"You're right. We can't have that."
"Mm Mm." She shook her head, exhaling sharply
when his lips found her neck. "Imzadi," she
whispered, and his hands moved expertly along her
body.
"What was that?" He grinned when Troi uttered
an inarticulate sound, and then pulled the offending
bit of string anyway. He lifted the edge of her
blouse until it slipped easily over her head. Then
he shifted beneath her and rose to his knees. They
were face to face. Will's fingertips slid lightly
over the line of her jaw and then downward until he
found a far more intimate prize.
-
Deanna gasped and murmured something, leaning
forward so that their mouths came together; their
lips moving slowly as one. She reached around him
and drew the catch of his uniform all the way to its
end, watching through dark eyes as he discarded the
garment without prompting. Smiling, she drew her
fingers across his chest, gratified by his obvious
response to her touch.
Will's kisses were filled with fire. His hands
on her skin as he divested them both of the rest of
their clothing left trails of liquid heat at every
broken caress. She wanted him with a desperation
that nearly consumed her, but she held back,
uncertain of why it was she was still unable to feel
his presence in her thoughts.
"Will?" She whispered, interceding when next he
moved to cover her lips with his. "What is it?" He
pulled back and tried again, but she would have none
of it. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." He cupped her breast in his
hand and took her earlobe between his lips. Troi
fell forward at the unexpected sensation, she moaned
softly but managed to pull away once more.
"Imzadi," Her entreat caused him pause. He
suddenly froze, staring down into her eyes without
speaking. "You're afraid." She whispered in awe,
sensing his distress even as the words left her lips.
"Why are you afraid?"
He looked away as realization dawned on her.
"Oh, Will, I'm so sorry.." Deanna's eyes
filled with sympathetic teardrops. "I can't even
imagine what it was like for you -- to go through
something like that all alone." Her hands cradled
his face. "But I'm here now. I'm not going
anywhere. And I love you..."
I love you. The words resonated inside his
mind, inside his heart and in his spirit. She loved
him, and he was desperately in love with her. But
was it enough?
"Yes." An answer filtered down through his
thoughts unbidden, and he knew that it had come from
her. It was enough. He sucked in a cleansing
breath of air and took her mouth in a reverent kiss.
A kiss that was long, and sweet and so full of
everything he was feeling. He opened his thoughts to
her, and his heart; felt the warmth of her presence
slide within him as though it were meant to be, and
he made love to her. The way he promised he would.
The way he'd imagined them together in every dream
and every heartbeat since the day he'd met her. He
loved her that much.
--o--
[END BOOK I]
--------
[BOOK II]
Chapter 34
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Discovery consists of seeing what
everybody has seen and thinking what
nobody else has thought."
--Albert Szent-Gyorgyi
--------
"Phillips out." The serious face of an elderly
admiral disappeared from the Enterprise's main
viewscreen. Picard turned where he stood, exchanging
a look with his first officer. "Commander," The
older man tugged on his uniform top. "It appears our
rendez-vous with the Ambassador's shuttle will have
to wait."
Riker's expression was neutral, but he could
well read the Captain's ever so slight relief at the
prospect of delaying the inevitable arrival of
Lwaxana Troi. Even it if meant a relatively
'routine' deviation and assignment such as this one.
The planet Gillias in the Rigel sector required
emergency technical assistance, and it had fallen
upon the Enterprise, as the closest federation
starship, to assist.
Gillias had been a member of the Federation for
well over two hundred years. As such, they were
often expectant of preferential treatment. Their
considerable pull with fleet command was usually put
to good use in that regard. They, after all, had
some seniority. It was a fact they never missed an
opportunity to bring up with the Federation council.
"Please assemble an away team and find out
what's going on down there." Picard continued,
nodding to himself. "I imagine it's probably fairly
routine, but with Gillias one can never be certain of
what other -- anomalies -- one might encounter along
the way." The Captain had been polite. In point of
fact, Gillias was renowned for their social unrest.
On the surface, they played the part of a utopian
society. But it was well known that their people
were fairly divided on the issue of exactly how the
planet should be governed. The problem, was that
most Gillians were equally arrogant. It was a
reality which meant that -- in all likelihood -- they
would never come to an amicable compromise. It was
all they could do in the interim to avoid a civil
war, for that -- they knew -- would be a one way
ticket into the Federation's watchful eye.
"Aye sir." Riker turned and surveyed the
bridge, then began his ascent up the ramp toward the
turbolift, calling behind him.
"Geordi, Data," He paused for the lift door
and added, "Troi," she would definitely be an asset,
given the circumstances. "You're with me." The
three officers rose -- or turned -- from their
respective stations and moved to join him without
comment.
As they filed inside the lift, Riker caught
Troi's eye for a fraction of a moment. She was
amused about something, but as quickly as the look
had crossed her features it was gone. They stood
side by side for the duration of their descent, in
silence.
When the small chamber finally came to rest,
Geordi and Data stepped without. Riker moved to
follow, but before he was able to pass through the
doorway, Troi's hand slipped forward and tapped the
doorplate, manually shutting the lift. He turned
and threw her a look, but his question was cut short
when she advanced on him until he found himself
pressed against the back wall. She hadn't said
anything, and she hadn't done anything either. She
was simply staring at him.
*
They had stepped briskly through the lift door
and taken several strides through the corridor when
Data suddenly stopped and turned to face LaForge.
"Geordi," he glanced backward at the now-closed
barrier. "I believe that-" Data began, but Geordi
cut him off. Taking the android gently by the arm,
Geordi turned them both forward once more and resumed
their progress through the corridor.
"Just keep moving Data." He smiled at his
obviously inquisitive friend. Data followed along,
his right arm still caught in the young man's grasp,
but he turned backward periodically and frowned.
"Perhaps they require assistance, the turbolift
does not usually close before all occupants have
vacated from-"
"Data," Geordi cut in, almost paternally. "Do
you remember the other day when you stopped to help
the Captain and Doctor Crusher while they were in
front of holodeck four-?"
The android's eyes widened and his mouth
opened. He shut it promptly and then nodded as
though sharing a confidence. "I understand," he
whispered; suddenly walking toward transporter room
three with single-minded focus.
"I thought you would." Geordi grinned,
following his friend through the door.
*
"Deanna?" Riker finally gave in. "They're
going to wonder what's keeping us..."
Troi shrugged, tipping forward so that their
faces were only inches apart. "I know."
"We need to get down to the transporter room,"
He admonished; only half able to conceal the way her
proximity was making him feel.
She nodded seriously and looked away as though
considering; then looked back at him. "Aren't you
going to kiss me?"
Riker found himself grinning. He leaned in
close to her ear and whispered, "if I do, will you be
good and follow orders?"
Deanna laughed and shook her head emphatically.
"Not likely."
"I was afraid of that.." Will frowned without
a hint of sincerity. But then he came forward and
switched their positions, thrusting her gently
against the bulkhead and dropping his head so that
their lips came together. The kiss grew deep almost
before it had begun and Riker pulled away from it
after several long moments, before his body was able
to completely betray him -- and his current mission.
He dropped his forehead to hers and caught his
breath, whispering against her face. "You're making
this difficult on purpose.."
"I am." Troi smiled sweetly, touching her lips
to his once more before they moved completely apart.
Riker tapped the doorplate and waited for an
exit, glancing backward at her and shaking his head.
He heard her soft laughter and then the exaggerated
voice she used whenever she was imitating him.
"Troi, you're with me."
Will swallowed his own grin and marched
stoically forward into the corridor, noticing that
Geordi and Data had made their way almost to the
transporter room door. He cast a sidelong glance at
the Counselor when she came abreast of him, taking
two steps for every one of his.
"This is definitely going to be a challenge,"
He whispered so that only she could hear; his eyes
fixed before him while they walked. Deanna didn't
respond at first; her expression remained neutral.
But once they rounded the corner into transporter
room three, she turned toward him and patted his
chest affectionately.
"Really? I was under the impression that you
were Will Riker." Tipping her head for emphasis, the
Counselor took a position on the transporter pad.
Riker grinned.
--o--
--------
Chapter 35
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Mediocrity does not see higher than itself.
But talent instantly recognizes the genius."
--Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
--------
"Hospitable? Are you calling that hospitable?"
Troi crossed her arms and glared at Will, who for his
part, threw an apologetic glance toward a pair of
Gillian political officers. Data and Geordi had been
escorted to a nearby energy facility on more
'technical' matters soon after the away-team beamed
down to the planet's surface. In the meantime, the
Commander and the Counselor remained behind to
'court' further political relations -- or at least,
that was as polite a term as Riker was able to think
of at the moment.
"Excuse us, Minister," Will smiled politely and
placed his hand on Troi's arm, leading her away from
the small assembled group and out of ear-shot.
"Deanna, they're just being-"
"I know what they're being!" Troi spat, "Did
you hear what she called me? The first time, it was
surprising, but excusable. The second time, I let it
slide again, but there was no mistake when it
happened a third time!"
Riker grinned, "And here I thought you were
supposed to be our diplomatic liaison."
Deanna crossed her arms over her chest and
glared at him petulantly. "That was before a certain
Gillian minister's unfortunate choice of wording."
Her eyes narrowed. "And where were you the entire
time, how could you not have heard-"
"I heard. I do speak a word of Betazin, here
or there. All though I have to admit that I was a
little surprised to hear the Minister speak it so
fluently. I know what she said, I just -- didn't
think it was that big of a deal."
Deanna rounded on him, eyes wide. "You what?
Are you, or are you not the same Will Riker who --
lived--on Betazed for nearly two years?"
"You bet I am." Riker's eyebrow rose and his
tone transformed, "I'm also the same Will Riker who
happens to be first officer of the flag ship," he
admonished. "An officer whose current mission
entails the investigation of a crisis on an aligned
Federation protectorate. That supersedes my personal
feelings on the subject, and it should supersede
yours as well -- Commander." He placed deliberate
emphasis on her rank. "So how about we rise above
the aristocracy for the moment, and let our highbred
Gillian minister over there be the only example of it
at these proceedings." When he finished, his voice
held no victory, only a wake-up call. His gaze
remained locked with hers.
Troi paled visibly, as though she had only just
realized her folly. She had succumbed to the lowest
form of intentional needling. A political insult she
should instantly have recognized from her youth. It
was a kind of intrigue she had -- often vocally --
opposed while she still lived as a member of the
Betazoid nobility within her mother's vast estate.
Perhaps blood was indeed thicker than water. The
Counselor's mouth fell shut. She dropped her gaze
and nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry. It won't
happen again."
Riker's look immediately softened and he placed
his hand gently on her arm. "I know," he smiled down
at her, tossing a quick glance at their would-be
hosts, "and I'm sorry for what happened -- I do
understand, we'll talk about it later. It's just
that now isn't-"
"I know that," Deanna's posture returned and
she sighed softly. "I don't know what I was
thinking. I'm fine now," she smiled serenely and
Riker shook his head.
"I know what you were thinking," he smirked,
"if it was anything like what I was thinking, I'd
thought of blowing her out the nearest airlock.
Shame that we're planetside and there aren't any
airlocks..."
Despite his comment, the tone of Will's voice
remained impassive; as though they had only been
discussing whether or not it might rain later in the
day. It was just boring enough to avoid curiosity
or eavesdropping. Deanna had to smile.
"I know where there's an airlock," Troi
whispered through clenched teeth. Taking his arm,
the Counselor led the Commander back toward the
waiting Gillians. "Minister," Troi greeted a woman
who appeared, in countenance, to be nearly her own
age. "Commander Riker and I were just discussing how
much we'd love to invite you and your staff on board
the Enterprise for a tour, weren't we Commander?"
Riker traded a glance between the two women,
his look transforming from barely concealed surprise
into a broad smile. "Uh, yes of course.
Absolutely."
--o--
--------
Chapter 36
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"I'd ask the questions.
But once I knew the answers,
what more would there be to say?"
--------
A small, if impromptu, dinner reception
followed the Gillian Minister's tour of the
Enterprise. There was dancing -- which lead to the
Counselor's poor mood.
"What is it, Deanna?" Beverly Crusher eyed her
friend between mouthfuls of a particularly sinful
confection. "You haven't touched your chocolate,
what's wrong?"
Troi glanced down at the spoon in her hand and
the bowl full of melted ice cream beneath it. "I
despise that woman," she muttered sullenly.
"What woman?" Crusher surveyed the room,
peering through a tangle of dancing couples. "Who
are you-" and then she caught sight of Commander
Riker, dancing with a particularly fetching partner.
Her expression returned to Troi. "The Gillian
Minister?" Crusher shook her head, trying to
understand. Deanna shrugged, opting to stir her
melted ice-cream, unresponsive. "You're upset
because Will is dancing with the Gillian Minister?"
"I didn't say I was upset," Troi cleared her
throat softly.
"No, you said you despise that woman..."
Beverly admitted, now smiling. "If it bothers you
that much, why don't you just cut in?" Again Deanna
said nothing, and Beverly sighed. They were quiet,
and after a time the music from a small live quartet
in the center of ten-forward faded into silence
between sets. The Counselor was still staring at
her bowl when she suddenly paused mid-motion. Her
face took on a curious expression and she frowned
without looking up.
"What is it now?" Crusher leaned forward but
Troi shook her head. An instant later, a loud shriek
erupted from Will Riker's companion. In truly
'human' fashion, the Minister slapped the Commander
soundly across the face. Virtually everyone within
Ten Forward turned at the sound. Deanna was no
exception. She raised her head and cringed when Will
was hit, but her expression seemed to indicate that
she had somehow sensed it coming. The Minister then
turned. Accompanied by two personal aides, she fled
the room.
When Beverly ceased following the Gillian's
retreat, her gaze found a slightly bemused Will Riker
standing over their table, still rubbing one side of
his face.
"Will!" Crusher's eyes grew wide. "What
happened?"
Riker looked down, appropriately contrite. "I
asked about her father.." He shrugged
apologetically.
"You what?" The Doctor sat backward in her
chair just as the Captain arrived in Ten Forward from
the outer corridor, obviously aware of what had
transpired. Nearly toppled over by the exiting
Gillians, Picard afforded his first officer a
questioning glance as he approached. Crusher's
expression was still incredulous. "The Gillians are
extremely sensitive about their deceased, Will. She
must have been horrified..."
"Who knew?" Riker pleaded innocently, spreading
his hands.
Beverly's eyes narrowed. She glanced at Troi
who was now studiously staring at the table. "You
both look guilty to me," the doctor frowned.
"Regardless-" Picard's voice cut in. "It
appears that certain -- reparations will need to be
made."
"This was my fault," Riker began, "I'll-"
"I don't believe so, Commander." The Captain
pinned his junior with a direct look. "I think
you've managed enough for one night." His words were
a reproach, but a considerably mild one. No doubt,
he understood more than he was letting on. As was
proper under the circumstances, Riker nodded
solemnly.
"Yes, sir."
Picard turned toward Beverly. "Doctor, would
you accompany me to see the Minister?"
Crusher sighed. "Of course," she threw a
backward glance at Deanna as she stood. "We'll talk
later?"
Troi nodded slowly. When the Captain and the
Doctor had left Ten Forward, Will took a seat at the
table and folded his hands in front of him. He said
nothing, but Deanna's eyes refused to leave his.
"Well?" she regarded him directly.
"Well--I wasn't sure whether or not you'd
approve."
"I certainly would not have." Troi shook her
head. "Weren't you the one who suggested we ignore
the situation?"
"What I said," Riker eyes sparkled, "was that
'now' was not the time."
"How convenient for you." The Counselor
frowned and broke his gaze, glancing down at spoon in
her bowl.
"Deanna-"
"What were you thinking?" Her eyes snapped
upward, seizing upon his once more.
"I was thinking -- a lot more about what
happened down there. When we came back, I replayed
her words over and over again in my mind. You *were*
right, she said what she did deliberately to provoke
you. Why am I defending myself to you -- of all
people. She deserved a lot more than she got." His
eyes hardened.
"Perhaps, but not from you. Not on my behalf."
Her voice softened at his wordless expression.
"Will, when you reminded me down there not to allow
her to get to me, you were right. You were right
about our assignment and our responsibilities. What
you did just now, with full knowledge of an intended
outcome" she sighed, "was no better than what the
Gillian minister said to me earlier."
He frowned and was silent for a time. Then he
nodded, his expression serious. "Maybe not. But it
sure as hell made me feel better."
"Made *you* feel better?"
"If I'm not too rusty in my Betazin, the
particular turn of phrase she used would have
included me fairly significantly, considering." He
trailed off with an unmistakable tip of the head.
Deanna regarded him a moment longer and then
exhaled quietly. She shook her head while an ironic
half-smile touched the corners of her lips. "I
suppose I can't really argue with that," she added,
"considering."
They sat quietly across from one another for
several eternal moments. "Okay, all right" Riker
finally conceded, spreading his hands in a gesture of
defeat. "Maybe she got to us both."
"Me?" Troi huffed. "I sat here the entire
time. I didn't say a word." She threw him a look of
challenge.
"You were angry," he returned, nonplused.
"I was perfectly fine, thank you."
"Well, I'm certainly not the empath at this
table-" Riker grinned. She threw him a look.
"All right. I was a little angry." Her eyes
flashed before she lost her battle with a small
smile. "A lot angry. But I was dealing with it.
She was an absolute-" The Counselor's phrase melted
into a short string of words in her native tongue
which had Riker sitting forward, obviously amused.
Deanna paused suddenly. "And while we're on the
subject, what possessed you to dance with her?"
"She asked me." He shrugged simply.
"And?" Troi levelled her eyes on him.
"And-" He began, "I needed an opportunity to be
in close proximity to her."
"Oh, I see." The Counselor nodded slowly,
apparently digesting the information. "She's also a
very beautiful woman."
"Yes, she is," Riker stopped. His eyes snapped
forward. "Wait a second. Her appearance had nothing
to do with the reason I accepted her offer to dance."
Troi arched an eyebrow.
"You really don't believe me, do you?" Will
stared across the table at her; the expression in her
eyes told him everything he needed to know. He
shoved back on his chair and stood. "Right."
Troi watched him wordlessly. Her face
remained a careful mask, but he could see her
disappointment clear through it. He sucked in a
breath. "You know something, Counselor? Beyond a
single selfish desire, your sense of my enjoyment of
the situation had absolutely nothing to do with the
Gillian Minister." He leveled his gaze on hers and
they were silent. She was testing him, searching for
any sense that he might not be telling the complete
truth. He knew that with a certainty that both
startled and appalled him, but he kept his eyes
directly on her even so. It was Deanna who looked
away first.
"I'm sorry," she finally whispered, lifting her
gaze from the table where she had focussed for only a
moment. She looked up to find him, but he was gone.
The doors to ten forward hissed shut in his wake.
--o--
--------
Chapter 37
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"All of our final resolutions are made in
a state of mind which is not going to last."
-Marcel Proust
--------
When she rang the chime for Riker's quarters,
Troi was met with no response. He was inside; there
wasn't a doubt of that in her mind, but he was
obviously refusing to answer. Well, she was damned
if she were going to let him be petty about this.
She rang the chime again. This time there was a
voice. It indicated permission to enter and she
sucked in a shallow breath. Righting her posture,
Deanna moved so that she would automatically trigger
the doorway's mechanism.
Riker was nowhere to be found. His quarters
were surprisingly tidy and two of the rooms adjacent
to the living area were lit. She could hear the
sound of a familiar piece of jazz playing over the
computer and she tipped her head, listening for a
moment.
"Nightbird," she whispered; a small smile
touched the corners of her lips.
"You'd think if I listened to the damn thing
enough times, I'd get it right one of these days,"
Riker's baritone voice preceded him into the living
area and she turned to regard him. He had changed
from the evening. Dressed in a casual tunic and
slacks, he looked as though he had definitely had a
little time to unwind. Troi glanced down momentarily
-- realizing for the first time that she had
forgotten to do the same. A long elegant dress
brushed against her ankles.
"They say that practice makes perfect." She
shrugged lightly.
"Yeah, well, 'they' have been wrong before."
Riker plucked a small statuette from a nearby table
and tumbled it between his fingers. "What can I do
for you?" He looked up at her as though she had come
for a favor. Troi merely regarded him with large
dark eyes until he sighed and placed the statuette
back onto its tiny pedestal.
"You know there are times," she began, "when I
feel as though I know you better than anyone in my
life." Her voice was quiet. "And then there are
other moments. Rare instances when I feel as though
I don't know you at all." Deanna began to walk
slowly into the room, her dress whispering as she
stepped. She rounded the corner of a table and
absently fingered the foliage of a large plant before
turning so that she faced him once more. "I was
wrong tonight. Will," her eyes found his. "I owe
you an apology. You have every right to be cross
with me."
"I'm not." Riker exhaled so quickly it was
almost a laugh. "You know, I was, but then I came
back here and it sort of -- disappeared." He made a
vague gesture and shook his head. "The anger is
still there, I think, but it's not directed at you
anymore. I wasn't really angry with you to begin
with. I think I was angry at myself." She watched
him silently as he raked his fingers backward through
his hair. "I was thinking about the reasons you felt
the way you did."
"I was wrong." She repeated.
"But there was a reason you evaluated my
motives to begin with. Wasn't there? I mean, if you
were able to trust me completely," a pair of crystal
blue eyes flashed at her, "then there would never
have been an issue at all." He dropped his hands to
his sides and nodded absently. "That's what I keep
thinking." He paused and Deanna dropped her gaze in
silence. She heard him clear his throat. "You look
beautiful in that dress."
Riker watched her hand move instinctively
toward her hip, "thank you," she smiled self-
consciously.
"Do you want to talk about this?" His voice
was oddly calm. She glanced away for a moment, and
then back.
"The psychologist in me does." Her admission
made him smile.
"But that's not who's standing in front of me
right now, is it?"
Deanna shook her head slowly. "No. It's not."
"So who have you brought with you this time,
Ms. Troi?" He asked sincerely. She frowned for a
moment and then shrugged; her long raven hair fell
over her shoulder with the gesture. "May I ask you
something?" He inquired when she hadn't responded
orally. Troi nodded.
"Are you even a little afraid of what this
means, for us?"
Deanna's expression grew serious; her dark eyes
large and thoughtful. She considered his words for
what seemed an eternity to Riker and then she looked
downward, running careful fingertips over the smooth
fabric of her dress.
"You don't have to have all the answers for me,
Deanna. I just want to know what you're feeling.
I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here, in case you
hadn't noticed," he afforded her a wry smile when she
glanced up at him. "I'm just a poor human, remember?
I barely know what my own emotions mean at the best
of times." He was trying to lighten the mood;
something he always did during a tense situation. As
usual, it managed to win a tolerant smile from her
direction. She sighed softly.
"Not afraid," she moved toward him slowly and
then stopped. "Cautious? A little uncertain
sometimes. I don't want to feel those things, and
even when I do feel them -- it doesn't change the way
I feel for you, it's just that-"
"Hey, it's okay." She saw him swallow, though
he nodded encouragingly.
"It's not a simple matter of trust. We've been
close -- as friends -- for a long time, Will. In
that capacity, we have been fortunate enough to share
a special kind of trust. In many ways, that trust is
absolute. I would trust you with my life, for
example. I would trust that what you tell me is the
truth."
"But you aren't certain whether or not you can
trust in a romantic relationship with me." He
finished the thought for her and immediately
recognized the look in her eyes. It was a silent
apology and it ate at his resolve until he found he
had to look away.
"I want to." She whispered.
He could feel her eyes still on him. "But no
matter how hard you try, I'm still the guy who
abandoned you on Risa; who has a reputation for being
less than monogamous. I understand that."
"It's not your reputation which concerns me,
Will. It never has been. I know you well enough to
see beyond the projection, and I forgave you some
years ago for what happened on Risa. We wouldn't be
standing here right now if I hadn't. Believe it or
not it's actually *because* I know you the way I do,
that I feel this way. I feel as though you're still
not certain. That even though we've come this far,
there are things you're keeping from me. I honestly
don't know what those things are, but I do know that
they're important to you. And you're not sharing
them with me, I don't know what to think." She
admitted with obvious difficulty.
"So, what? You think I'm hiding something from
you? Deanna, that's ridiculous-"
"Is it?" She shook her head. "Is it ridiculous
of me to believe that you're feelings are
conflicted?" Her gaze locked with his and he found
himself unable to look away, or to respond. "Is it
ridiculous for me to wonder why it is that the last
time you were completely honest with me was the night
we were together on the holodeck nearly two weeks
ago? Something's wrong, Will. Something's wrong and
you're not telling me, and I can't help but wonder if
that something has to do with your wanting us to be
together again." It was the sound of her voice,
perhaps even more so than the words she spoke, which
nearly knocked Riker off of his feet. "I remember
these feelings. I remember the last time you had
them-"
"Deanna," He began, but she cut him off gently.
"If you aren't certain, Will, I need to know.
If this isn't right for you, I need for you to tell
me. Because I can't do this again." Her eyes, when
she looked at him, were large and resolute. "I don't
want you to be with me out of fear, or guilt, or some
sense of 'what-if' you're still harboring. I want
you to be sure because there's a friendship to
consider. A beautiful friendship and I won't allow
you to destroy it out of some misguided sense of
obligation. We don't *have* to be together, Will
Riker-"
"Yes, we do-" His eyes widened and he took a
step forward until he was face to face with her.
"How can you even say that?"
Her eyes were luminous, but the look in them
was one of conviction. "Because the relationship
we've built over the past eight years on board this
ship is more precious to me than anything I've ever
known."
"Then listen to what I have to say to you right
now." Riker lifted her hand and threaded his fingers
with hers. "Our friendship is just as important to
me as it is to you. But there's more than that,
Deanna. There's been more than that from the very
beginning and you can't tell me that's not true. You
know how I feel about you." He paused for a brief
moment, allowing his words to settle, watching her
silent expression. "Lately, I've been afraid." He
finished.
"Of what?"
Riker kept her close as he bent toward her and
whispered, "I've never been afraid of anything in my
adult life, except this." He tipped her head
backward and pressed his lips to hers, first a simple
touch and then something far deeper. His mouth
closed over hers, his hands moved behind her neck as
a cradle of support and he dimly heard the sound she
made when pulled her into his arms. "This," he
repeated, breaking contact so that they were able to
breathe once more.
Deanna's eyes were closed, her breath came
quickly and it was a moment or two before she was
able to open her eyes once more. When she did, she
found that she was standing less than an inch away
from Will's body. "This frightens you?" She
managed.
Riker nodded. "You're a senior officer on this
ship."
"How is that different from before?"
"You need to ask?" He took up her other hand
and placed it with the first one, between two of his.
She sighed, but then her gaze found his and
there was purpose in her eyes. "Then maybe you need
to take some time. Time to consider what it is we're
getting into. Time to think about whether or not our
being together is the right decision for you. I do
know how you feel about me," She belayed his
contradiction with the touch of her hand against the
side of his face and he turned toward it. "We both
know how we feel, and that's why this time -- 'having
fun' -- isn't going to be enough. For either of us."
The look she afforded him was as serious as the sound
of her voice and he dropped his gaze. "You aren't
sure yet, Will. And that's okay. This is a
decision, which will affect us both, possibly
forever. It will affect our lives here on the
Enterprise, and our careers for who knows how long
into the foreseeable future. We've both made plans
that were based on solitary lifestyles. If we allow
ourselves to enter into a relationship, everything
we've worked for until now would have to be re-
evaluated, at least in part."
He knew that she was right, but the knowing
didn't make her words any easier to swallow. "I
*have* been thinking about this. For years, Deanna,
sometimes -- I feel like it's all I can think about."
Riker saw the understanding in her eyes and he
sighed. "Do you know?" He suddenly asked, looking
into her eyes. "If I were to ask you the same
question right now, would you be able to answer me?"
Deanna smiled slightly and tipped her head. It was
distinctly a nod, and he frowned at the sight of it.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Perhaps," she lifted her shoulders, "I've
given myself a little more time to think about it,
over the years."
He shook his head emphatically, "impossible,"
but she simply smiled at him again.
"So if I asked you right now whether or not you
wanted to be with me, if I could tell you that I
wanted us to be together forever. You would say-"
"Yes." Troi drew her fingers along his face and
removed her hand. Riker, for his part, stood there
staring at her in awe. He felt like a total heel,
but there was no way that he could deny the accuracy
of her earlier assessment. He swallowed instead.
"God, Deanna, I wish-"
"Think. Will Riker." She interrupted him
gently, taking a step backward toward his door.
"Think about what you want, and -- for however long
that takes, I think that our friendship is strong
enough to endure, don't you?" Her eyes were large
and dark and it seemed to him that she was on the
verge of tears, though she held them masterfully at
bay. He shook his head in frustration even as she
moved a step closer to the door. "Think." She
repeated, and then she turned her back on him,
stepping through a doorway, which had opened without
his even being aware. Will watched helplessly as
she moved into the corridor.
The last thing he could have sworn he heard as
she disappeared from view -- was the whisper of her
voice in his thoughts. "I love you," she paused in
the hallway and Riker blinked at the sudden stab of
urgency that raced through his heart. But then she
was gone.
--o--
//
--------
Chapter 38
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Contrariwise, if it was so, it might be; and if it
were so,
it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's
logic."
--Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
--------
Two days with the Gillian officials became
seven; one week became two and a half, and by the
nineteenth day of the Enterprise's orbit around
Gillias, the crew of the Federation Flag ship was in
understandably sober spirits. With a sensitive and
fairly high profile trade negotiation fast on
approach, Starfleet Command had been forced to delay
its diplomatic assistance to Gillias time and time
again. In lieu, they had promised, the Enterprise
would remain to ease the transition until a more
official liaison might be established through
channels at Fleet Command. Whatever the case, word
in the corridors was that 'it was taking forever',
and even that was the least of Jean-Luc Picard's
concerns.
An irate Ambassador Troi had been badgering the
Enterprise on a twice daily basis demanding to know
what the holdup could possibly be. There were only
so many times that an individual could put off
Lwaxana Troi, after all, and Picard had begun to
believe he had just used up the last of his trump
cards. Quietly severing the comm link with the
Ambassador's diplomatic transport, the Captain
shifted back in his chair and sighed. The door
chime rang.
"Come." He called, watching as the object of
Lwaxana Troi's distress walked through his doorway.
Picard smile ironically. "Counselor."
"Captain," She tipped her head in curiosity.
"Did I miss something?"
"Your mother, actually. She was wondering
whether we had all been kidnapped by the Ferengi
Alliance and forced into slave labor camps."
Deanna Troi shook her head and smiled. "That
sounds like something my mother would say," Then
her expression grew frank. "I'm sorry, she's
probably worried."
"Indeed," Picard exhaled a slow breath. "She
almost lost a daughter and I believe her concern in
this instance is quite founded. I only wish I had
better news to pass along to her."
Troi frowned at her Captain's obvious
discomfort. "Has Starfleet put us off again?"
"It appears so. They're still dealing with
negotiations in the Miran sector. There's the
possibility of war, and we've been asked to continue
our stay until further notice."
Troi nodded and watched the older man's body
language when he shifted forward in his seat. "I
hate to be another bearer of bad news, then-" The
Counselor began, but Picard knew instantly what she
meant.
"Is the situation degrading?" He asked.
"Rapidly." Deanna thinned her lips. "It seems
as though every opportunity we have to get the two
sides talking ends in argument and irreconcilable
differences. We've been at it for over two weeks and
negotiations are wearing thin."
"Has Commander Riker been able to make any
progress with the Gillian Minister where a temporary
stalemate might be called?"
Troi shook her head. "The Gillian Minister
refuses to cooperate so long as the other party
remains supported in their government."
"But that is the basis on which democracy
exists." The Captain tapped his desk in frustration
just as the door chime sounded once more. "Come in."
He muttered.
Riker entered the Captain's Ready-Room and
quickly gauged his senior officer's mood as fairly
dismal. He threw a glance at Troi and she shrugged
almost imperceptibly. He came up along side of her.
"Sir, I thought you should know, the Gillian
Minister is refusing to cooperate in any further
meetings as long as the-"
"Yes, Number One. I was just informed."
Picard nodded shortly, and Riker raised an eyebrow,
glancing sidelong at Troi.
"The Captain inquired with me as to whether or
not you had been able to make any progress with the
Gillian situation," she explained, affording Will
only a casual look before her attention returned to
the Captain. Riker nodded.
"Well, it would be helpful if the other party
would agree to sit at the same table-"
"I agree," Deanna traded a look between the two
men. "But that isn't likely to happen."
"Counselor, Commander," Picard interjected,
"what if we were to set up negotiations on board the
Enterprise."
"I've already broached that subject with the
Minister, Captain. She refused." Riker's stance
shifted in frustration.
"Yes, well, what if we were to insist that
Federation support would no longer arrive unless such
a meeting took place?"
"Sir?" Will asked, glancing briefly at Troi.
The Counselor appeared equally baffled by the
Captain's suggestion. Gillias was a Federation
Protectorate, it had been for two hundred years.
Refusing them assistance was simply not an option.
"I realize what I'm saying, Number One. The
three of us know that such an occurrence would likely
not take place, but would we be able to convince the
Gillians otherwise?" Picard inclined his head and
Riker's expression transformed from incredulity into
a sly smile. He glanced at Deanna and she shrugged
amicably.
"It's possible, sir." The Commander's gaze
returned to Picard.
"Good. Make it so. Perhaps we can buy our
colleagues at Fleet Command a little more time with
this." Picard nodded. "Have your team beam back to
the planet for one final meeting at each
headquarters. See if you can convince them that the
next rendez-vous be held on board the Enterprise."
"Yes sir." Riker turned.
Just as he had left the room, the Captain
called out to Troi. "Counselor, a word please?"
Deanna turned at the door.
"You've taken on a full schedule well before
Doctor Crusher was ready to release you from medical
leave, I understand."
"I realize, sir, but I'm fine-" Troi began.
Picard raised his hand and smiled.
"I wanted to commend you on the way you've
handled this situation. Your assistance has been
invaluable in keeping a delicate situation from
escalating thus far."
"Thank you, sir." It was difficult not to beam
at such praise from one's commanding officer, but
Troi remained stoic; expectant on the other side of
the Captain's desk. Only when he had been silent for
slightly longer than was natural did she incline her
head.
"Was there something else, sir?"
"Yes." He finally sighed. "I was wondering if
you might have any observations about how the crew is
handling such an -- extended -- orbit." He folded
his hands before him and Deanna regarded him
quizzically. She considered her answer.
"Crew moral is, a little less enthusiastic than
usual, but I think that's to be expected. There's
nothing really out of the ordinary that I would
indicate."
Picard nodded to himself. "I'm glad to hear
it." He paused. "And my senior officers?"
"Sir?" She asked. Picard came forward in his
chair.
"Counselor, I'm uncertain how best to broach
this subject so perhaps I should simply forge ahead.
It has become apparent over the past week or so, that
there is a certain amount of -- tension -- between
yourself and Commander Riker." He stopped, watching
her expression. "I'm certain that, whatever it is,
has not interfered in any way with your duty
assignments, but if it should-"
Deanna frowned slightly, though she did not
bother to deny the Captain's remarks. "Sir, I'm
certain I can assure you that -- whatever it is --
will not affect our responsibilities on board this
ship in any way." Picard regarded her for a silent
moment and then nodded.
"Very well," he exhaled, "dismissed." Troi
sucked in a breath and turned on her heel, moving
toward the ready-room doorway. She paused when she
heard the Captain's voice once more. "I'm sure you
are aware, Counselor, that we have four hundred and
eighty-four Starfleet families on board the
Enterprise."
"I am, sir." She responded carefully.
"Good." He said nothing more, and so she
walked out onto the bridge. Listening for the
slight hiss behind her, Troi frowned thoughtfully.
For a human male, Jean-Luc Picard was an uncannily
observant individual. She sighed softly and hurried
up the ramp toward the turbo-lift door.
--o--
--------
Chapter 39
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to
be ignited."
--Plutarch
--------
Winding her way through one of the more elegant
market-places on Gillias, Deanna smiled at several
passing citizens, nodding at their somewhat
enthusiastic greetings. Gillias was nothing if not
fiercely proud of its membership in the Federation,
and the uniform she wore was certainly a striking
reminder of that affiliation. In fact, it seemed
that the only thing which both political parties
could agree on these days was their desire to remain
entrenched in the U.F.P. Noticing the secondary
government building as it came into view, Troi
quickened her pace with new determination. Perhaps
there was a light at the end of the tunnel, if they
could only get the two parties to communicate!
She had almost arrived at the city-complex when
a series of loud shouts brought her up short. She
spun around, searching for their source -- as did a
great many civilians in the area -- but a loud and
angry mob had descended upon the government square
and Troi quickly found herself pressing through
bodies, fighting for an opening so that she could
make her way from within.
They were enraged. The power and negativity of
the emotion assailed her unprepared senses and though
she dropped a mental shield quickly in place, a brief
moment of dizziness washed over her. She turned to
catch her balance, but a sea of living bodies blocked
her in every direction. They were screaming, yelling
something in unison, which she was unable to
understand, and it was then that she realized her
communicator, along with her universal translator,
was missing. Doubtless it had been ripped off by the
torrent of the crowd. If she hadn't made it an
imperative to extricate herself from her predicament
before, it had certainly become one now.
Pushing forward with difficulty, Troi managed
to forge a pathway through a thinner congregation of
protesters. Within moments, she found herself
mercifully at the angry mob's edge, near a small
civilian home. From her new vantage point, she was
able to look out over the disruption. The Gillian
city-complex was filled to capacity, and people were
literally stepping over one another in an attempt to
march upon the primary government building.
Everywhere was chaos and shouting.
Glancing behind her at the solid doorway of the
home, Troi saw a blinking light. It was the family's
comm reminder for unheard messages, and it reminded
the Counselor of what her new mission must be. She
had to find a means of communication with the other
members of the away-team, and she had to contact the
Enterprise. Will and Geordi had beamed down with her
not more than an hour ago. While it had been
necessary for her to take care of an errand outside
of the city-complex, the other two officers had made
their way directly within. With any luck, they were
still there now and able to inform the ship of new
developments.
A large, jagged rock landed with punishing
force several inches from where she had been standing
and Troi scrambled backward without thinking. They
were throwing things? Her mind allowed for a brief
flash of anger and incredulity. What sort of a
'peaceful,' 'utopian' society threw rocks at their
government buildings? Turning where she stood, Troi
tapped the door chime several times. If her hunch
was correct, there would be no one home at the
moment, and it was probably just as well. She threw
an appraising glance at the square comm unit near the
door. It had a small, though prominent Starfleet
logo engraved into its surface, and she let out a
sigh of relief. She was no engineer, but every
officer was required to take the basic classes, and
if she were able to remember hers correctly,
reprogramming a Starfleet comm unit to contact her
ship would not be as difficult as attempting to make
it back through the crowd for help.
"Stranded in a family garden on a Federation
Protectorate," she muttered under her breath while
she searched for something with which she could pry
the comm panel from the wall. When her eyes fell
upon a stationary version of the jagged rock, which
had collided with the house, she nodded to herself.
Lifting it into her hand, she tipped it against the
instrument panel and began to pull. It was affixed
to the wall with a pair of titanium bolts, but the
surface of the home was made from a comparatively
soft material, and within a couple of minutes, the
small square unit slipped free of it's cradle, into
her hand. "Thank you," she mumbled to no one in
particular, and began removing a series of small,
isolinear chips from the back of the box.
After a series of replacements, the light on
the front of the comm panel began blinking in her
palm and she turned it upward. "Here goes," she
sucked in a breath, "Troi to Enterprise." She stood
there listening for a moment, above the cacophony of
unfamiliar voices. There was static on the comm, but
nothing more. She frowned and tried again, her voice
slightly louder this time, though she was well aware
that volume would make no difference whatsoever. The
unit was likely too small and too short range to
communicate with a starship. Deanna sighed audibly
and resisted the urge to hurl the tiny box across the
angry courtyard.
Frowning instead, she turned the unit over in
her hand and removed two of the chips, interchanging
them for a different purpose. "Troi to away team,"
she held the panel to her ear this time, listening as
a short burst of static came through. "You're
breaking up," she returned, speaking to whomever it
was who had answered her page. But whether it was
Geordi or Will, she was unable to discern. "Can you
hear me?" Another burst of static followed, and she
strained to hear it without success. Either the tiny
comm unit had somehow been damaged when she removed
it from the wall, or communications from the
government complex were somehow being dampened.
Either way, things appeared grim.
Troi looked out over the sea of bodies with new
purpose. Sporadic phaser fire lit the courtyard at
random intervals, and that wasn't the half of it.
People were laying in the midst of debris, their
clothing torn, many of them bleeding from wounds she
could only guess at. And the crowd was growing.
If something wasn't done very soon, an angry mob
would breach the city-complex within a few hours,
leaving little unmarred in its wake.
Touching the small weapon which hung at her own
waist, she tapped its surface three times, ensuring
that it was set on the second lowest setting of
'stun'. She had been left with only one option,
though the thought of struggling once more through an
ocean of bodies was far less than appealing.
It was then, standing at the brink of the
chaos, that she caught a glimpse of something
familiar. It lay on the pavement several meters from
her current position, and it was glinting in the
waning sunlight. A spark of new hope invaded her
thoughts. If the object was indeed her communicator,
then perhaps there was a better way out of this after
all. Preparing herself for the inevitable
onslaught, Troi drew her shoulders square and set
forward once more, into the angry crowd.
--o--
--------
Chapter 40
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The truth you speak has no past and no future.
It is, and that's all it needs to be."
--Richard Bach
--------
"I'm going out there," Riker, gathered a small
pile of equipment from a nearby table. Geordi stood
off to one side and the Gillian Minister approached
them both, obviously distressed.
"Commander," she began, "We cannot guarantee
your safety if you leave the city-complex. Our
preliminary reports have not even come back yet with
the actual number of protesters we are dealing with.
I urge you to reconsider, at least for the time
being. Many of those involved are heavily armed, it
would be a tremendous risk-" She strode toward him,
but Riker shook his head.
"One of my officers is trapped out there
somewhere. I'm not about to leave her safety to
chance." A pair of steel-blue eyes confronted the
Minister's and she stopped in her tracks, extending
her arms in a pleading gesture.
"The odds of your being able to locate another
member of your team are very poor. Without
communications, we cannot even contact a security
team to escort you."
"That won't be necessary," Riker clipped a
tricorder and two other small instruments to his
waist. "Your security team would be an easy target
out there. I don't intend to be. I'll be moving
quickly, and with all due respect, Minister, it isn't
the Federation that your people are looking to lynch
right now." His gaze locked with hers until she
dropped her head slowly.
"As you say," Her whispered reply came back.
"Will you both be on your way, then?"
Geordi came forward to respond, but Riker
interjected. "No. Commander LaForge will remain
here and make sure that your power generators don't
go offline. At least until the worst of this is over
and we can contact our ship," LaForge opened his
mouth in protest, "That's an order." Riker added,
and the Chief Engineer sighed audibly.
"Aye sir," But then he pulled at Riker's arm
and lead him out of earshot of the group.
"Commander, don't you think it would be a good idea
to listen to what the Minister is saying?"
"I have been listening," He answered just as a
loud series of shouts could be heard from without.
"But leaving the Counselor out there in that mob is
not an option Geordi."
"I agree, sir, which is why I think I should go
with you. If there are two of us, the chances of-"
LaForge glanced up at his superior officer when he
felt the taller man's hand on his shoulder.
"I appreciate your loyalty, Geordi, and if
things weren't about ready to fall apart in *here*,
I'd probably take you up on that offer. But we can't
afford for this building to be overrun just yet, and
you're the only one who can keep their generators on
line long enough for us to punch a hole in that
dampening field." He pinned the other man with a
sharp look and LaForge finally nodded.
"Understood, sir. I'll hold the fort until you
get back with the Counselor."
Riker afforded Geordi a wry smile. "Good man.
With any luck, I'll be back in an hour or so."
"We'll be here."
"Minister," Riker turned his attention to the
Gillian staff. "I need a way out of here other than
the front door. A tunnel of some sort, or an unused
entrance, anything that will take me a few meters
away from the focus of that crowd."
"There is a tunnel, it runs for only four
hundred meters or so, but it will take you to the
edge of the city-complex, will that be enough?"
"It'll have to be." Riker nodded.
"Then follow that corridor to its end," The
Minister pointed behind her, "when you reach the far
wall, turn right and enter the doorway. That will
place you in the access stairwell, go down from there
and the rest is underground."
"Understood." The Commander turned when he
had taken several steps. "If I'm not back in two
hours, concentrate on getting our communications
through that dampening field. We need to contact the
Enterprise. Whatever else happens, they'll be able
to send assistance, but not unless we can hail them.
If our Captain hasn't heard from the away-team in an
hour or so, he'll realize something's not right.
It's possible he may send another team down to
investigate. I'd like to be able to warn them before
they arrive."
"As would I," The Minister nodded solemnly.
"Good, then we're all on the same page," Riker
pulled a small pack up on his back. "I'll be back as
soon as I can," He turned as he spoke and made his
way to the end of the corridor, where he disappeared
from view.
--o--
--------
Chapter 41
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"A mirror should reflect a little, before throwing
back images."
--Jean Cocteau
--------
Jostled from person to person, Deanna Troi
pushed forward, sometimes shoving her way toward her
objective. When she arrived within one meter of the
communicator badge, she found herself face to face
with a very angry, very assertive Gillian male.
"You," he growled, "You're helping them, aren't
you? That's why we can't get in."
Troi shook her head in confusion; she had
understood what he said. Her gaze flickered to the
tiny silver pin on the pavement and then quickly
returned to the threat before her. She was obviously
close enough to the translator so that it had been
able to work. "You're wrong," she spoke calmly to
the Gillian. "I'm trapped out here, the same as you
are."
Though an ocean of bodies continued to buffet
them, Troi and her companion continued their
impromptu conversation. The Gillian had a weapon,
and it was trained directly on her. "I don't believe
you. They aren't listening, and it's because you
made some kind of a deal with them."
"That isn't true." She maintained in a level
voice. "We are mediating the negotiations, but we
have never taken sides. We're trying to help you;
all of you. But we can't do that if you won't allow
us to..." Not once did her gaze waver from his.
"Yeah? Well, maybe if I killed you, they'd
start listening." He sneered.
Rather than flinching when the head of the
weapon pressed softly against her skull, Troi took a
step forward, toward the man wielding it. "What's
your name?" She asked softly. The Gillian's eyes
narrowed, but he answered nonetheless.
"Taryn."
"Taryn," She repeated and then smiled. "I'm
Deanna Troi. And I'm a little lost. Do you think,
perhaps, rather than killing me, you might be able to
help me through this crowd?"
The Gillian shook his head incredulously.
"You've got a lot of nerve, Deanna Troi." He
remained where he stood, regarding her sceptically.
But then he began to laugh; a loud, hearty sound
which shook his larger frame. Taryn lowered his gun.
"I wasn't really going to kill you," he admitted.
Troi shrugged, "I know," she smiled simply.
"You're the empath, aren't you? The one
they've been talking about?" He shook his finger at
her slowly while he spoke.
"Yes," she admitted, "Though I can't vouch for
whatever 'they' may have said, otherwise."
Taryn laughed again. "Oh, don't worry, you've
been meeting with our side, they like you just fine.
At least, that's the word on the street."
"The street seems pretty loud and angry right
now, doesn't it?" She regarded him sadly and he
glanced around, as though taking stock of the mayhem
for the very first time.
"Yes," he nodded solemnly. "I guess it does,
at that." Then his gaze returned to her. "But you
have to understand, until you arrived, they weren't
even speaking with us. We had no voice at all."
"And after we arrived?" Deanna pressed.
"That's when the meetings started." Taryn
inclined his head, reaching out a long arm to stop
the impact of another heedless body with Troi's. She
smiled gratefully.
"Then why do this? Why now? We were making
progress." The Counselor shook her head. "In a
single incident such as this, you have undone what it
has taken us nearly two weeks to attempt to piece
together."
"This didn't happen in two weeks, Deanna Troi.
It's taken nearly two decades for things to get this
bad. And I think it would have happened this way,
with or without your involvement." Taryn's eyes were
serious and Deanna frowned.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Hey, so am I." He argued. "You think we like
this? Any of us? We are a peaceful society, the
anger you must be able to sense today is a buildup of
decades of repression. Something has to give,
Commander Troi. You tell me, what is it going to
be?"
Deanna arched an eyebrow at his use of her full
title, but she opted not to mention it. "We came
down here today to ask for a meeting on board the
Enterprise. Neutral ground where both parties would
be able to sit at the same table.." She began.
"And did they agree?" The Gillian shook his
head.
"We never had a chance to ask." She shrugged
helplessly, tipping forward when a young teenager
forced his way through the crowd behind her. "My
colleague, Commander Riker has been meeting with your
Minister, and I have be meeting with the party's
opposition leader,"
"No, you haven't." Taryn sighed.
"I beg your pardon?"
"We didn't trust that the Minister would allow
these meetings to go on. It was decided that you
would meet with two of the lesser officials in the
party, in case things broke down."
"Well, that is certainly an unhappy surprise."
Troi shook her head in frustration. "If I have yet
to meet your party's leader, then who, may I ask,
should I request an audience with the next time?"
The young Gillian smiled contritely. "Me," and
then he cringed when he saw the flash in her eyes.
"You? Then am I to assume that you have the
authority to call all of this off?" She pinned him
with a direct look. He shrugged. "Look," Troi began
once more. "I can assure you of two things if this
demonstration continues as it has been. The first is
the withdrawal of the Federation from any further
negotiations with Gillias. The second will be that
your two parties will have to resolve your conflicts
as a non-aligned world. The Federation does not
accept members who are undergoing a civil war."
For a brief moment, Taryn's eyes grew dark with
anger, but just as quickly it was gone, and he sucked
in a breath of air. "All right, lets say I do get up
there and call all this off-" He regarded her
carefully, "Are you willing to guarantee me that we
will have an equal voice at that table of yours on
board the Enterprise?"
Troi nodded emphatically. "Yes, that much I
can absolutely guarantee you. But Gillias is a
democratic government, your people will ultimately
decide its leadership."
"That's all I'm asking for."
"Then we have a deal?" Troi tipped her head.
"You'll call this off?"
"It will take me some time to do that. My
people are very angry and they won't be happy about
going home after we've come this far." His
expression was frank, but Troi merely smiled.
"I imagine that you'll be able to convince
them, it was you who lead them here, after all, was
it not?"
Taryn sighed. "We have a deal." His eyes
flashed and he moved slowly away from her, turning
toward the center of the crowd, but before he had
taken more than a few steps, he turned. "You are
very wise, Commander Troi, the descriptions they gave
me of your meetings did not do you justice," his eyes
sparkled when he spoke. Troi tipped her head, but
said nothing. She watched him as he disappeared into
the crowd.
Once he had gone, she returned to the matter at
hand. If anything, the crowd had grown thicker since
she re-entered its maw, and so, when the area just
ahead of her grew momentarily sparse, Deanna saw the
telltale glint of her communicator badge just within
reach. Without waiting for a better moment, her body
pressed forward and she grasped for the tiny device.
It slid into her palm and she began to rise, ducking
out of elbow-contact several times before regaining
her balance. She stared down at the triumph in her
hand, and turned to make her way out of the crowd.
She had taken fewer than two steps, however,
when an errant blast of phaser fire scorched the air
directly in front of her. Falling backward, Troi
stumbled and then righted her purchase. Her gaze
flew in the direction of the fire, and she avoided
yet another blast, but she was not so lucky a third
time. From the direction of the farthest wall came
two more shots fired. One of them took her in the
shoulder, dead on.
Ironically, though the world seemed to play out
in slow-motion all around her, the one thought which
entered her mind as she sank to the ground from the
blast, was not for her own safety. It was that she
shouldn't let go of the communicator in her hand;
shouldn't lose contact with it another time. And so
she fell, fingers curled tightly around their
precious cargo, even as an inky blackness descended
upon her, drowning out any further conscious thought.
--o--
--------
Chapter 42
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"What we really want is not knowledge but certainty."
--Bertrand Russell
--------
Riker moved through the crowded city-square
with difficulty, brushing and often shoving against
the bodies of protesters who collided with him. His
eyes scanned the area as he went, and he found
himself wishing that he had taken more time to
practice the lessons which Deanna had taught him. If
he had, he might have been able to sense her or at
least her general direction, right now.
Angry shouting and the occasional phaser blast
caused him to glance up, each time watching for any
hint of the Counselor's whereabouts. But she was
nowhere to be found. He had been searching through
chaos for nearly thirty minutes when he heard a
particularly loud burst of weapons fire crackle
through the air next to him. Someone had been hit.
His gaze flew upward and he watched as the crowd
began to thin where the victim had fallen. It was
too far away for him to see what had happened, but
that didn't matter. In the absence of any sort of
visual contact whatsoever, Riker knew with absolute
certainty that the person who went down, was Deanna.
With his heart hammering against the inside of
his chest, he began to run. Heedless of those around
him, Riker forged a pathway directly through the
ocean of people and suddenly found himself standing
above her. There were people everywhere, yet no one
stopped. No one seemed even to realize she had
fallen. For the briefest of moments, he felt a
keening stab of hatred towards an entire planet. But
it was an irrational feeling, and so he dismissed it
as quickly as it came.
Troi lay on the pavement where she had fallen,
an angry burn set into the right shoulder of her
uniform. Riker fell to his knees at her side.
Very carefully, in the midst of so much else, he
extracted a tiny instrument from his waist and ran it
across her forehead, taking a reading of her vital
signs. She was breathing, her pulse was strong, and
there were no internal injuries. The blast would
have knocked her out pretty good, though. He
released a thankful sigh and snapped the tiny
tricorder back onto his belt. Then, reaching around
the Counselor's inert form, he gathered her from the
surface of the pavement, into his arms.
They needed to find cover. Some place where he
could set her down and tend to her injuries, at
least. His eyes scanned the immediate area and
quickly fell upon a civilian house. Taking advantage
of his superior height, Riker pressed mercilessly
through the crowd for the short distance that it took
for him to carry her into the garden of the home. A
quick glance revealed to him that a small
communications device had been pried from the
exterior wall, no doubt by someone who had tried to
use it when the fighting began. He found the black
box sitting next to the door and noticed the order of
the iso-chips inside. Deanna had done it. Deanna
or another Starfleet officer, but he was ready to bet
his last credit chip that there weren't any other
Starfleet officers on Gillias this day.
Setting the Counselor gently down near the
door, Riker lifted a small phaser unit from his waist
and leveled it at the entry panel. He fired. Small
sparks flew in multiple directions as the unit
tumbled from its place on the wall. With a quick
shove, Will pushed aside the doorway, revealing an
empty home. It was just as well. He would have
hated to have to explain this to the home's
occupants.
Turning to gather Deanna from where he had
placed her, Riker moved them both within the small
building. There was a large piece of furniture not
unlike a bed pushed up against the wall toward the
center of the room and he made his way toward it,
lowering the Counselor, unconscious, onto its
surface. He returned to shut the door behind them.
Though the sound of shouting continued outside,
the walls of the structure served a welcome respite.
Riker reached around himself and pulled the pack from
his back, dropping it near the bed. He began yanking
items from the gear until the one he wanted fell into
his hand. It was a cutting device, and he used it to
carefully remove the Counselor's uniform.
She was burned badly. Swallowing a sympathetic
cringe at the sight of the dark, angry patch on her
skin, Riker pulled two more instruments from his bag
and took her vital signs once more. He was glad she
was unconscious, because a phaser hit this deep would
hurt like hell. He knew that from personal
experience.
Locating the dermal regenerator, he powered the
device to maximum. The severity of her injury would
require at least that much strength. He was
certainly not a doctor, but where medical knowledge
might fail him, technology would take over. In this
case, it was simply a matter of sitting next to her
and running the device across the injured area for as
long as it took to heal -- or until the field-medkit
ran out of battery power. Either way, it would be a
hell of a lot less painful for Deanna when she woke
up.
Seconds became minutes, minutes became nearly a
half hour, and as the last of the skin on Troi's
shoulder turned pink, Riker powered down the device
in his hand. "Thank God for Federation medicine,"
he mumbled. Deanna was still unconscious, and there
wasn't a hypo in the field med-kit to bring her to;
he would have to wait. But she would be all right,
and that was what mattered most.
Lifting the Counselor so that she lay partially
upright against the head of the bed, Riker picked a
simple outfit he'd discovered in one of the other
rooms and replaced the uniform he'd ruined with the
new garment. The chrono near his bag read nearly two
hours since he'd left the Gillian city-complex
building, but the sound of angry protesters continued
outside. If there were going to be any chance in
hell that he and Deanna might make it back to the
government building, she would need to be conscious.
Moving slowly around the circumference of the
bed, Will finally sat at the edge of it, next to
Troi. He took a moment to study her sleeping form
and then gathered her hand in his. That was when he
discovered the communicator. Glancing down at her
in puzzlement, he slid the tiny pin from her grasp
and examined it. She had been using the
communications device on the exterior of this house,
but why would she have done that if she had kept her
communicator all along? Unless-
She hadn't had her communicator; unless she'd
only found it later, and had to go into the crowd to
retrieve it. Suddenly things made sense. For
several minutes he looked down on her; watching her
while she slept. Setting the tiny pin on a nearby
shelf, Will reclaimed Deanna's hand while his other
hand moved to brush the hair away from her face.
He'd been doing a lot of thinking lately;
thinking that she'd asked him to do, and thinking
that he'd been putting off for far too long on his
own. And he'd come to a decision. He had planned on
discussing it with her last night, but then things
had gotten busy; they were preparing for today's
negotiations and the moment never came. In truth,
there was a part of him that was even a little
relieved to put it off. He wasn't the best with
words to begin with, more especially when he didn't
know how they would make her feel.
Riker's expression grew thoughtful as he tucked
strand after strand of long, dark hair behind
Deanna's ear. Pausing mid-stroke, he frowned. He
had the oddest feeling all of a sudden; a ticklish
sensation in the back of his mind. The slight
pressure of her fingers closing over his followed it.
He had been concentrating so intently on her; was
this the way it always was when she woke from sleep?
Sitting forward, he watched his suspicions
confirmed as the Counselor's eyes slid open very
slowly. Deanna blinked several times as her vision
adjusted to the light in the chamber. Her gaze
settled on his eyes and she smiled.
"Hey, beautiful," Riker grinned, cupping his
hand against the side of her face.
"Hi," She whispered, frowning slightly as
flashbacks of the attack collided with her memory.
"How did you find me?"
"Oh, well, I was out taking a walk.." He
shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a characteristic
sparkle in his eye.
"You were not," she batted his arm petulantly
and Riker's expression sobered.
"The protests started and we lost contact with
the ship. I couldn't raise you on the comm, so I
decided to come looking." Will's blue eyes were
darker than usual and Troi stared at him mutely for
several moments. When she hadn't spoken for longer
than he'd expected, Riker leaned forward worriedly.
He had only moved a few inches, however, when
Deanna lifted her arms and pulled his head down to
her, kissing him gently. Her kisses were soft and
yielding at first, but they grew deeper and more
urgent with every passing instant. Riker's body
pressed forward on autopilot, his knee sank into the
bed next to Troi and his hands took her face between
them.
More quickly than either could have imagined,
the two officers were devouring each other hungrily;
eyes closed, breathing raggedly, Troi's fingers
tangled in her lover's hair as their mouths came
together with punishing need.
The heat of undernourished desire was all
consuming as a kiss that had been meant only as a
gesture turned into something far more powerful.
Untold minutes after it had all began; Will and
Deanna emerged reluctantly from the encounter, inches
apart, still gasping for breath.
Riker watched as Troi took her lower lip
between her teeth and bit down on it, hard. Her eyes
were still closed, but the gesture was one he knew
well. She was doing it to keep herself focused; to
keep her resolve from weakening any further. When
she finally opened her eyes again, the fire in them
was gone, but not the emotion.
"Thank you for finding me," she whispered.
Riker lifted an eyebrow. The most intense
physical encounter he'd experienced in weeks, and
she'd simplified it completely. "All part of the
service." He smiled down at her.
"I'm sure you'd have done the same for any
officer." The look she gave him was teasing, but he
nodded solemnly.
"Absolutely."
With a playful smirk, Deanna sat up, noticing
her surroundings -- and her new outfit -- for the
first time. She stared down at herself in
puzzlement and then up at Will, who shrugged. "Yeah,
sorry about that. I had to cut the uniform off.
This," he touched the fabric of her new garment "was
the best I could do on short notice."
"Thank you." Troi smiled gratefully. Lifting
the blanket, she dropped her feet over the edge of
the bed. And then she remembered something. "In the
crowd," she turned toward Will. "I met someone in
the crowd, he promised me that he would end the
demonstration."
"He?" Riker shook his head. Pulling her boots
on while she spoke, Deanna filled Will in on her
encounter with Taryn, his explanation to her and his
promise. When she had finished, Riker nodded
thoughtfully. "Well, I hope your friend keeps his
word. Because it doesn't sound like things have
changed all that much out there in the past hour or
so."
Deanna frowned. "A disruption like this
doesn't just break-apart, Will. It takes time to
organize such an event, and time to stop it mid-way
through."
"I understand that, call me a cynic I suppose,
but why would he have been so agreeable?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. But I believe
he truly does want a peaceful solution. He was
telling me the truth, I can vouch for that much at
least."
"All right," Will nodded. "Lets assume for the
moment that this 'Taryn' is indeed the leader of the
opposition. Why do this at all? Wasn't he aware that
progress was being made?"
Troi shrugged, "As a matter of fact," she
smiled. "I asked him the very same question. And I
imagine, that it will come up again on the Enterprise
when the two parties meet."
"You have an uncanny ability to look on the
bright side of a situation, Counselor." Riker tipped
his head. Deanna flashed him a brilliant smile, but
her expression quickly turned into a wince; her hand
moved to her shoulder.
"I think I fell harder than I thought," she
rubbed the area gingerly.
With a puzzled frown, Will sat next to her on
the bed, turning her body so that her back was toward
him. "The regenerator should have taken care of most
of that. Here, let me take a look." He pressed
gently against the base of her neck and she winced
again. "Looks like a sore spot. There's no more
battery left in the field-kit so you might be a
little uncomfortable for a while, but you should be
fine once we get back on board the Enterprise."
"Thank you for your diagnosis, Dr. Riker."
Deanna massaged the injured area with her hand but
Riker pushed her fingers away.
"Don't do that, you'll only make it worse."
"Well it hurts," She whined.
"Aren't you always the one telling me that men
are the biggest babies?" Riker chuckled softly, but
when Troi shot him a venomous look, he clamped his
mouth shut and smiled instead. "All right," he moved
behind her and lifted her hair with one hand, "hold
still." She didn't respond. Riker tipped her head
forward and worked his fingers against the back of
her neck. "Is that better?" He asked. Deanna
mumbled something under her breath and he grinned.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Shifting her hair to the opposite side, Will
leaned over her shoulder to see how she was doing.
Her eyes were half shut and she sighed. "That's
nice," her whisper came back to him. Washed over
him, really, and he found himself woefully unprepared
for its effect. The nearness of her voice, coupled
with the feeling of her body pressed against his
chest, made him feel almost giddy. He wet his lips
and stared down at the mass of raven hair next to his
hands. It brushed against his fingers while his
touch on her neck became a gentle caress. Without
consideration, he found himself leaning forward;
replacing the touch of his hands with the touch of
his lips.
Deanna froze. She stiffened at first, when the
sensation on her body became something far more
intimate than before. But she had felt Will's
growing emotion from the very beginning and she
hadn't done anything to stop it. Now, with the
warmth of his lips tracing a pathway along the edge
of her neck, she couldn't keep herself from
shivering. Her head fell forward, allowing him
greater access, and a quiet entreat escaped her
parted lips.
His attention seemed to last forever, which was
why it came as something of a shock to her when it
was suddenly gone. She could feel him shift behind
her. He made no sound, but the feelings she sensed
from him were primarily guilt and a sense of
conflict. She swallowed, but did not turn.
"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," he
finally spoke. "I was going to come see you, last
night. If we'd had dinner the way we usually did."
The night in question had been a Thursday
night, and Thursday nights from their very first days
of service together on board the Enterprise, had been
an evening they spent together. Sometimes at her
quarters, other times in his. Every now and then
they would even book the holodeck for something --
interesting. But not once did they dare to cross the
boundaries of their well-defined relationship on
those nights. It was dinner and an evening together
-- as friends. And they had looked forward to it
each week. Sometimes, Deanna even wondered if it
wasn't her favorite part of the week. Over the years
she had taken to dismissing such thoughts the moment
they arrived. At least, until recently she had.
"We were both busy," she provided. "We had the
negotiations to prepare for." Troi heard his
frustrated exhale.
"I know," he shook his head. "This has been
the longest three weeks of my life."
"Well, it looks as though there might be a
resolution on the horizon, if the parties agree to
meet-"
"That's not what I meant," Riker turned where
he sat. He met and held her gaze. "You know that's
not what I meant. I think if we're going to get
anywhere with this," he gestured between their two
bodies, "these two parties have to agree to meet
first."
Her eyes were large and serious and she tipped
her head to regard him. "You seem as though you're
still in conflict, Will..."
"Yes," He agreed, nodding vigorously. "But not
about what you think. About when and where to have
*this* conversation. I guess this place is as good
as any for the moment. And," he conceded when he saw
her skeptical glance. "I'm human. This is a big
deal for me, I'm a little bit nervous. Not about us.
Not about my feelings, just nervous that maybe ...
Oh, hell, I don't know, maybe I'll do something to
screw this up again." He studied her frankly.
Troi lifted her hand and pressed it to his
cheek, but said nothing.
"Deanna, I want us to be together. I want to
be with you, there's not a single doubt in my mind
that I feel like the best version of myself when I'm
around you. I don't think we can go back to the way
things were. Not anymore. I don't want to do that,
and I don't think you do either." A pair of sharp,
blue eyes examined every feature of her face before
continuing. "These past three weeks there were
times, it hurt to breathe," he shook his head in
frustration, "except when you were there," Riker
pulled her unresisting, into his arms; he shut his
eyes and brushed his face against the side of hers.
"I'm not very good with talking about the way I
feel," he whispered into her hair.
He felt her arms encircle his neck and the
warmth of her breath next to his ear when she spoke.
"You're doing just fine."
"Then put me out of my misery would you,
Counselor?" He pulled away from her, only half in
jest. His eyes grew serious once more. "You asked
me to think, I've done that. I want you to know I
can't promise you a perfect solution. The two of us
being together on this ship is not always going to be
easy. There are going to be times when it conflicts
with our professional responsibilities, and hell,
maybe Fleet command is right in suggesting that
couples not serve in the same command structure. I
don't know. But I do know that I'm willing to try.
For myself; for us. I have to try. And I want you
to try with me. Maybe together, we can figure this
out. But I'm not about to let you go without a hell
of a fight this time." He fixed her with a direct
gaze and they remained that way for several seconds,
unblinking.
Troi was about to respond when the outer door
to their shelter was suddenly shoved aside with
tremendous force. An instant later, Lieutenant
Commander Data stepped through the entryway followed
by Doctor Crusher and two medical officers.
"So what do you say, Counselor?" Riker
challenged her, undaunted. They had about seven
seconds until they would doubtless be whisked away.
Deanna glanced at the approaching officers and
then back at Will, her eyes large. She made a quiet
sound and lay her forehead against his chest. "Yes,"
and then she added, "but this conversation isn't
over." They separated just in time to watch Beverly
glide into the room, one eyebrow raised in question
at their previous posture.
"Well," Crusher smiled sardonically. "Looks
like we were just in time." Troi sighed loudly and
leaned backward against Will's larger frame.
"I'd like to go home now." She mumbled.
"Your wish is my command, Counselor." Data
emerged from one of the other rooms and nodded to
Crusher's medical team. He tapped the badge at his
chest. "Enterprise, six to beam up."
The occupants of the tiny Gillian home were
momentarily engulfed in a shroud of artificial light
Six officers shimmered and then vanished. As the
prickle of transport overtook them, Riker's final
thought was a question: Just how long had their
communicators actually been functional...?
--o--
//
--------
Chapter 43
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"If you don't control your mind, someone else will."
--John Allston
--------
Dinner in Ten Forward on the night before the
peace conference was subdued. The Commander and the
Counselor sat at their customary table; they had been
there for nearly half an hour but Deanna had seemed
more interested in her dessert than anything else.
She hadn't said more than three words from the moment
they arrived. When he could take the silence no
longer, Will leaned forward in his chair.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"That's archaic," she smiled half way.
"What is it, Deanna? What's wrong?"
Troi sighed. "I don't know. It's been two
days since the riot on Gillias," she began. Since
their time in the Gillian home, Riker read between
the lines. He nodded encouragingly. "Well, it just
seems as though every time we've tried to have a
conversation since then, something happens. Some new
emergency on the bridge, one or the other of us is
paged. I'm almost afraid to start talking because I
know we won't have a chance to finish. I've barely
seen you-" She muttered sullenly, examining the
contents of her bowl.
Riker watched her across the table. He took in
her expression and the way she was holding her spoon.
A lazy smile began to spread across his features.
"You miss me." He stated simply, eyes bright.
Deanna didn't look up, but it was clear he'd
hit his mark. Reaching across the table, he took her
hand in his. "For what it's worth, I've missed you
too. Having dinner in the evenings just -- isn't
what it used to be." He saw her look up and the wry
smile which touched the corners of her lips. "Who'd
have thought that it would be harder to stay away
from you when we were together than it was when we
were trying for 'just friends'."
"I'm being silly, aren't I?" She shook her
head. "I mean, it even makes me angry that I'm
feeling angry about this! If we're going to be
together, this kind of thing is going to happen all
the time. We can't expect to spend all our time
together. I know that." Her voice trailed off,
frustrated.
"Ah, but we're new again remember?" He smiled
slyly. "That means we get to have fun for a few
weeks before it gets boring."
Troi gasped incredulously and swatted his arm.
"I can't believe you just said that."
He grinned. "It gets worse. Someday we're
going to be an old married couple, and then what are
we going to do for fun?"
Deanna laughed and shook her head. "You always
make me smile."
"You know I've pretty much finished preparing
for tomorrow's meeting." His eyes met with hers.
"You?"
"Me?" Troi tipped her head and wound her
fingers through his.
"I suppose you'll be spending the evening in
the ship's resource center again? You always were an
academic brat." He grinned.
"A what?"
"Don't they have a name for people who study
all the time and have no life on Betazed?" Riker
teased.
"Yes," Troi came back. "Successful."
"Ouch," he mimed a knife in his heart. "All
right, so what if I helped you study tonight."
Deanna bit her lip and pretended to think it
over. "I remember that line.." she whispered. "As I
recall, we didn't get much studying done."
Riker's eyebrows rose. "I promise," he held up
his hand, "I'll be on my best behavior. Nothing but
Gillian social customs all night long."
She grinned at him. "Now that *definitely*
sounds boring."
He shrugged. "Well, that's providing there
aren't any more -- interesting -- distractions. I
can't be held responsible for distractions, now can
I?"
"I suppose not." She admitted with a solemn
nod.
Riker suddenly exhaled sharply and rose from
his seat. He made his way around the table and
pulled Deanna to her feet as well. In fact, he
pulled her flush against him, smiling down at the
surprise in her expression.
"How are we going to do this? If I don't get
some time alone with you soon, there isn't going to
*be* a Gillian peace process." He murmured against
her hair.
Trying to ignore the desperate plea of her
body, Troi turned her head and whispered back in his
ear. "We make a distinction. We separate the
moments when we're on duty from those when we're off
duty."
"It's not that simple." He shook his head in
frustration.
"Then we make it that simple." She felt his
posture relax. Finally, he chuckled; eyes alight
with mischief. "Does that mean no more turbo-lift
rendezvous, Counselor?"
"Well, certainly not if we're in uniform." Her
voice held the unspoken condition.
Riker sighed. "I'm not making any promises."
"Me neither," she breathed, pressing her lips
against the side of his neck. He inhaled sharply and
his arms tightened around her. "You're awfully
forward tonight," her voice was low, "you're not
usually very fond of public displays of affection."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Riker took a
step backward, grinning incredulously. "Should I be
sweeping you off your feet on the bridge every time
we're on shift together?"
She almost laughed. "You know what it means."
He watched her silently for a moment and then
reached out, affectionately tucking a lock of hair
behind her ear. "Does it matter to you?"
"Not really," she shrugged.
"This isn't the first time you've brought it
up..."
"I know, it's just -- easy to tease you about."
She smiled coyly and stood on her tiptoes, pressing
her lips against his.
"Yeah," he whispered, pulling her into his arms
so that he folded them around her. She laid her head
against his shoulder and shut her eyes. "Are we okay
then?" He asked.
"I think so," she mumbled softly.
"I'm still not a hundred percent sure that I'll
be able to keep things separate. I want you to know
that. I'm willing to try, but I don't know what I
would do if-"
Deanna placed her fingers across his lips and
pulled away. "We can't anticipate every eventuality,
Will. No one can. If we were even to try, we would
never allow ourselves to take this chance.."
"I know," He acknowledged. "Which is why I
won't pretend that I'm still not a little bit
worried."
"I understand that," she nodded slowly. "As
long as you're honest with me about what's inside
your heart. That's all I'll ever ask of you." She
watched his expression transform from gravity into
acceptance.
"Deal." He affirmed, but Deanna shook her head
to the negative and he narrowed his eyes quizzically.
"What?" He asked.
She smiled mysteriously.
Lifting her arms around his neck, Troi fell
against him with a soulful kiss, drawing her fingers
through his hair from behind. When they came up for
air, she whispered against the side of his face, "now
it's a deal."
He grinned, and they remained that way for some
time. "You look beautiful tonight," he finally
spoke.
"Thank you," she answered.
"It occurs to me," he went on. Troi looked up
at him expectantly. "We never had a chance to dance
in Ten Forward at the reception all those weeks ago.
I was going to ask you," he frowned thoughtfully.
"Well, you were interrupted." She provided.
"That's true. Still," he smiled, "we're not
likely to be interrupted right now."
"Also true." Deanna tipped her head as Riker
took a giant step backward and extended his arm with
a flourish.
"Would you do me the honor of a dance,
Counselor?"
Deanna nodded wordlessly, eyes bright. The
music had changed, a slow and soulful piece from the
Lounge's collection. Cloaked in shadow near the
farthest corner of Ten Forward, Riker took the
Counselor's hand in his and they came together once
more.
They were silent at the outset, content to
simply live in the moment. But Deanna moved forward
first, pulling her arms around his neck for a more
intimate stance. Her eyes were luminous, and for an
insane moment, Riker was certain that he could drown
in them.
"When was the last time we danced?" Her soft
voice interrupted his train of thought.
"Longer than I'd care to admit."
"This is nice," she ran her fingers through the
hair at the nape of his neck.
"Do you have any idea what that does to me?"
He grinned down at her.
"What?" She asked innocently.
"What you're doing to my neck." His eyes
sparkled.
"Was I doing something to your neck?"
Riker didn't even bother to respond verbally.
His expression grew serious and his face moved toward
hers. The kiss started out as a gentle exploration;
her lips against his, their tongues dancing together
just as their bodies were doing. As suddenly as it
had begun, it wasn't nearly enough.
He pulled her toward him, molding the curve of
her waist against his larger frame, his hands roaming
the contours of her body. Deanna gasped when they
came up for air, but his lips were upon hers with new
ferocity almost instantly and her sharp intake of
breath became a shallow moan.
"I missed you." He whispered harshly against
her hair and she tipped her head when his kisses
moved low on her neck.
"Me too," Grasping the back of his neck, she
drew his face against hers and murmured in his ear,
"why don't we skip the resource center tonight. I
think I already know everything I want to know about
Gillian social customs." The rumble she felt from
his answering laughter made the entirety of her body
shiver in delicious anticipation and she clung to him
when he kissed her once more.
"You really can read my mind," Riker reached
behind his neck to capture her hand in his. With a
final backward glance at their table, he added, "lets
go." And they left Ten-Forward, hand in hand.
--o--
--------
Chapter 44
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The fey wonders of the world only exist while there
are those with the sight to see them."
--Charles de Lint
--------
The doorway to Deanna Troi's quarters slid open
and her gaze drifted from the interior of the dark
suite to the man who was with her. It was strange,
she felt, having come so far with almost perfect
decorum -- their hands at their sides, they had
walked a polite distance apart for the entirety of
the short journey from Ten Forward; even smiled at
several officers in passing. But now they were here,
standing before a kind of portal through which they
would inevitably step; a portal wherein weeks of
crushing denial would be shattered into so many
shards of whispered promises. The problem lay in
such promises; promises for which she already knew
the words. They simply hadn't kept those words as
sacred until now.
Gathering her tumbling thoughts, Deanna laughed
self-consciously. "This is--odd."
Her quiet admission startled Riker. He had
been watching her from the moment they arrived and it
was clear that something wasn't right. "What is?" He
asked.
"You wouldn't believe me." she shook her head.
"I'm not even certain whether *I* believe me."
"Try me."
"All right." A pair of onyx eyes met with the
blue of Will's gaze. "I'm nervous." She exhaled
sharply but Will drew his fingertips gently across
the edge of her face.
"I believe you," he smiled when she touched his
hand. But then his expression grew serious.
"Tonight isn't like any other night. It's about a
new beginning for us, in a way."
"Yes," Troi smiled gratefully. "And if we do
this-"
"There aren't any more rules left in the safe
little book we've written."
Her eyes locked with his, but she said nothing.
Instead, she drew their hands together and threaded
her fingers with his. Her head shook in mute
acknowledgment.
"Do you want to go back?"
Again, she shook her head. This time she
smiled. With their joined hands in tow, Deanna lead
Will through the doorway of her quarters and into the
darkness beyond.
*
With a call for one-quarter lights, Troi turned
where she stood and the door slid shut behind them.
The last of the light from the corridor melted into
semidarkness and Riker lifted a portion of hair from
Deanna's ear, pushing it backward. She regarded him
with such a thoughtful expression that for a moment,
he felt as though he would lose himself in whatever
profound certainty she had realized. But she hadn't
moved, and so he pulled her gently toward him. His
arms drew around her body while the hand he had
lifted continued to stroke her hair.
Deanna shut her eyes and drew in a breath,
drinking in the perfect warmth of his presence. It
was a gesture so unique to her that Riker found
himself unexpectedly filled with need. Though he
was never to speak of it aloud, for years after their
missed rendezvous on Risa he had searched for the
gesture in every partner he took. But he was not to
see it again for nearly a decade.
He had come to cherish the simple joy of so
many little things while they had been a couple; and
then so suddenly those things were gone. Without
even realizing how long it had been since he had
allowed himself to miss the nuance, he was captured
by it once more.
Troi's eyes reopened slowly and she smiled. "I
missed you too." Her shoulders rose and fell as
though she wasn't certain how best to convey the
phrase. Will took her face between his hands and
bent forward. His face was barely a millimetre away
from hers, but in the instant that Deanna would have
sworn he was about to kiss her, he paused.
"What is it?" She asked, watching his eyes as
they explored her features.
"We're still in uniform," He provided, allowing
a lazy smile to tip the corners of his lips.
"Ah," her eyes came alight with intent. "That
could be a problem." She drew her arms around his
neck and idly toyed with the clasp at the top of his
uniform. "But not a permanent problem," her dark
eyes flashed and he lifted her off her feet, spinning
them around until he finally came to a halt at the
edge of one of her cabin windows. When they finally
stopped, Troi's musical laughter filled the suite.
"I don't think anyone's done that with me since I was
five!"
"I was thinking of something a little more --
adult." Riker lifted her into the giant windowpane,
pressing her gently against the glass. "Unless you
had other plans-"
Deanna was unable to speak before he covered
her mouth with his. It was a hungry, needful kiss
and it robbed her of the ability to breathe. She
drew her hands along the muscles of his back, her
fingertips kneading into the fabric of his uniform.
The sensation of the cool glass behind her seemed to
melt into the heat of their bodies pressed together
and she moaned softly when the demand of his mouth
grew more insistent.
His presence was everywhere at once, and though
they'd been together nearly three weeks earlier, the
desire she felt from him now was unequalled in her
remembrance. "Will," she murmured his name on a
sharp exhale, drowning in the pleasure of his touch.
"Wait."
The sound of her voice brought his attentions
to an immediate halt. "Are you all right?" he
asked, watching her carefully.
"I'm fine." she smiled up at him. "Gods, if
you keep this up, I'll never let you out of here."
Her voice was low and he shook his head, obviously
confused.
"You," she drew her lips across his and kissed
him softly. "are always like this when we make
love." He set her down, though her arms remained
around his neck. When he still appeared perplexed,
she sighed softly. "If I didn't think it might
swell your already inflated ego," she threw him an
affectionate smirk, "I might tell you that you are
the most generous lover I've ever known." He would
have kissed her again, but she stopped him. "Will,
don't you understand? When we're together, it's
always about me."
"Deanna," Riker shook his head and smiled, "You
know, you're the first person who's ever brought that
up as a negative thing."
"It's not!" She made a frustrated noise.
"Believe me, I intend to take full advantage of your
-- skills -- later on, but for right now, I want it
to be about you." Troi's dark eyes seemed to stare
directly into his soul. For a time, he was unable to
look away.
"Deanna, what you're asking isn't necessary,"
his answer came with a breath of uncertainty. "Being
with you isn't like being with anyone else. I may
have been with a few other women, but I've never --
whatever it is between us-"
"The bond we share," she provided simply.
"I can say to you honestly, Deanna, that I've
never been with anyone who made me feel as," he
dropped his gaze and searched for the right word, "I
don't even know if there is a way to say this," he
frowned slightly, "but there doesn't have to be, does
there?"
Troi sighed and shut her eyes. She leaned
forward and kissed him. "That's what I want to show
you."
"Show me what?" Riker afforded her a lop-sided
smile. He lifted her from the window-ledge and
pulled her hips toward his.
"Do you remember a few years ago, there was a
Mesomorph who came on board?" Deanna toyed with
the fabric of the uniform near his neck.
"Kamala?" Riker inclined his head.
She tipped her head. "You remember her name."
"I, well-"
"It's all right," She laughed. "Kamala is
going to help me illustrate a point right now, so the
more of her you remember, the better."
Riker cleared his throat uncomfortably. Now
there was an irony. Deanna smiled at him. "All
though Kamala was confined for most of her life, she
and I did share one striking common trait..."
"You're both empathic," He answered without
hesitation.
"Yes," Troi watched him for a time. "I know
that you escorted her to guest quarters the first
night she was on board."
"I did,", he nodded, "but what-"
"Listen to me for a moment," she interjected,
pressing her fingers against his lips. "Believe that
I am absolutely not doing this for any malicious
purpose." Her frank expression entreated his
understanding and he dropped his shoulders in defeat.
"I understand that." Riker murmured. "I just
don't see what Kamala has to do with us, tonight."
"Then let me explain." She smiled patiently.
"I felt what you were feeling that night." Her voice
dropped an octave and Riker looked away. Deanna
lifted her hand and touched the side of his face. "I
know that you were thinking of me when you left her
quarters. It was the only reason I could sense your
emotion so strongly." She watched him swallow and
then sigh.
"Well, she said some things to me," he began.
"Which made you wonder." Troi inclined her
head.
"A little."
"What did she say?"
Riker exhaled. "She said, among other things,
that -- she could be anything I needed her to be;
that she could anticipate my desires before I knew
that I had them." He exhaled uncomfortably.
"And that made you think of me?" Deanna
watched his expression and smiled when he nodded
almost imperceptibly.
"She would have been relying on empathy to do
those things. I knew that, and it made me remember a
few things." His eyes found hers.
"It also made you wonder whether or not there
were -- other things -- I was capable of that you'd
never experienced." Her voice was soft and when he
didn't respond, she asked again, "didn't it?"
"Yes," He finally nodded. "I'll admit to
that. Are you saying that I was right?"
"I'm saying," Deanna began, "that you may have
been my first, Will Riker, but you certainly weren't
my only. If I were to show you what I am truly
capable of right now, it would definitely spoil you
for anyone else." Her dark eyes flashed with
dangerous intent and Riker found himself staring at
her wide eyed. It was an expression that
transformed into a grin.
With a tilt of his head, he leaned forward and
whispered in Troi's ear. "You have my full and
undivided attention, Counselor."
"Well I'm glad to hear it, Commander," she
teased, but as quickly as the look in her eyes had
been playful, it changed once more. Her body moved
forward and her lips fastened on his with an urgency
that consumed them both. "Do I still have your
attention?" The warmth of her breath caressed his
lips.
"Always..." Riker drew her face toward his,
another time.
--o--
--------
Chapter 45
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The lunatic, the lover, and the poet,
are of imagination all compact."
--William Shakespeare
--------
Deanna tucked her legs beneath her body and sat in
the middle of her bed, face to face with an obviously
uncomfortable Will Riker. He was regarding her
curiously.
"Something wrong?" she teased. "You seem
tense."
"Actually," His brow wrinkled. "I've just
never been in a -- romantic situation -- where I
didn't have a clue what was about to happen next.
It's... different, and maybe a little intimidating."
Will cocked his head and smiled ironically. "And the
only reason I'm admitting that to you is because
you're an empath and there isn't a doubt in my mind
that you already knew I was feeling this way." His
smile transformed into a grin when Deanna almost
laughed.
"Well, I suppose I'll take your honesty any way
I can get it." She rolled her eyes. "Is that all
you're feeling right now? Nothing else?" Her dark
eyes flashed. Deanna loved exploring his feelings.
It had sometimes seemed as though getting him to
admit what was going through his mind was an absolute
passion of hers. The problem was that she always did
it when he had no hope in hell of extricating himself
from the situation.
"Warm?" he shrugged, smiling at her answering
grin. "Excited, I guess?"
"I want to show you something," Troi's large
eyes seemed to drink him in. "But you have to trust
me, Will" She belayed his ready answer with a quick
shake of her head. "Trust me absolutely. Without
hesitation." When her serious gaze locked with his,
Riker said nothing. "What I'm about to share with
you," Deanna continued, "will be a spiritual event.
It's something which requires your consent, because
it will go beyond the boundaries of whatever we may
have shared physically, until now. I would never
share this with anyone otherwise. Do you
understand?"
"I think so," He swallowed. "And I do trust
you, Deanna. No matter how strange my feelings might
have seemed, none of that had to do with my trust in
you."
"That means a great deal to me," she
whispered.
"Imzadi-" Will lifted her hand to his lips and
turned it over gently, kissing her palm. "If there
were no one else in the universe that I could trust,
there would always be you." He regarded her
solemnly. The gesture he had performed with her
hand was distinctly Betazoid. It was also a gesture
normally reserved for fully bonded couples, and even
though he was aware they had yet to complete their
union in the truest sense of Betazoid tradition, he
also knew that there was no greater measure of love
he could possibly have shown her. The tears in her
eyes reminded him of that.
Deanna took the hand he offered and drew her
fingers through his. For a moment she merely stared
at him, but then she released her fingers and slid
their palms together so that her smaller hand pressed
slightly into the warm flesh of his larger one.
Without even realizing how it was he knew to do so,
Riker instinctively remained silent, waiting for her
to direct whatever would come next.
"Tell me what you're feeling." She curled her
fingertips, drawing them along the inside of his
palm.
"I'm feeling -- in love with you," he drew in a
breath and smiled wanly, barely able to hear her
voice when she returned his pledge.
"What about tonight?" Her fingers continued to
caress his palm; a sensation which was becoming
increasingly distracting for him. "Do you want to
continue?" she asked.
Riker nodded slowly. "Yes."
"Then clear your thoughts, Imzadi. Free your
mind from the physical confines of your body.
Remember what I taught you," Deanna's musical voice
whispered inside his mind and he realized that she
had switched from spoken communication at some point,
though he couldn't be certain just when it had
happened.
With a willing sigh, Riker released each errant
triviality he'd been considering. He set them
afloat, one at a time, concentrating instead on the
immediacy of Deanna's presence. His eyes locked with
hers and he was suddenly aware of the motion of her
hand as it traveled below his wrist toward the
underside of his arm.
"That's good, just relax," she smiled at him,
"you can feel this," Troi's statement of fact was
accompanied by a glance in the direction of her hand
on his arm. He nodded wordlessly. "When our bodies
have a tactile response, the touch of a lover for
example," Deanna's dark eyes studied him frankly.
"The sensation is pleasing," Troi continued her
explanation, "The emotion we feel is pleasure."
Riker's awareness of her simple touch on his
arm became something far more erotic and he exhaled
sharply. His gaze fell on Deanna's hand and then
returned to her eyes. "How did you do that?"
She tipped her head and smiled at him. "The
emotion is pleasure," Troi repeated, "I can sense
its smallest measure," her eyes were darker than he'd
ever seen them, "and if I choose to do so, I can
touch it; I can send it back in any measure."
"I know what you said to me earlier," Riker
took her other hand and held it, "and I know that you
would never think of this, but technically speaking,
you wouldn't actually need another person's consent
to do this, would you?"
"Technically speaking?" Deanna shook her head
helplessly. "No." Her gaze returned to Will's arm
and she drew one finger slowly across his skin. His
mouth fell open and he shook his head in awe.
"Deanna, what I'm feeling is not just an
amplified version of the way it feels when you touch
me. What I'm feeling is a hell of a lot more than
that." He swallowed.
"Because no single emotion is ever pure." Her
expression lit up and he could almost see her desire
to communicate understanding.
"What is it like?" He asked.
"Like-" She took her lower lip between her
teeth, "the painting in my quarters," she suddenly
smiled at him. "Like a wash of abstract symbols
that mean nothing on their own. But when they come
together in a pattern, I can feel each different
shape."
"You can make me feel -- anything?" He watched
in fascination as Deanna came forward on the bed and
knelt before him. Their bodies were only an inch or
so apart, but there was no further physical contact
while her gaze demanded his attention. A moment
later, Riker's eyes fell shut and he gasped, "Oh, God
... that's incredible." When his voice had finally
returned, he shook his head breathlessly, but
curiosity got the better of him and he managed to
ask, "how far could you go with this?"
Deanna's low laughter preceded her lips against
the outside of his ear when she whispered, "I could
have you on your knees across ten decks, on the other
side of this ship."
Will's jaw dropped and he shook his head
slowly. "I'll try and remember that the next time we
have a disagreement."
"I said that I could," Troi pulled away and
grinned at him. "That doesn't mean I ever would."
"What else?" He sat forward with obvious
interest and Deanna giggled.
"Well," she appeared to ponder the question for
a moment. Then she pressed against him and covered
his mouth with hers. It was a short but meaningful
kiss and Riker suddenly wished that he could pull her
closer.
As if she'd read his mind, Deanna shook her
head negative. She repeated their earlier kiss, only
this time it was longer; slightly deeper. Before
long, Will found that he had surrendered to her whim,
body and soul. They began a ritual of exploration,
but with every passing moment the intimate contact
they shared increased in urgency.
It was during such a moment that Riker felt his
world dissolve around the most powerful force of
needful pleasure he had ever experienced. Their
bodies tumbled to the bed beneath them and he was
dimly aware of Deanna's small hands as they lifted
the top of his uniform and tossed it carelessly
aside. Unable to keep from touching her for even a
moment longer, he took hold of the catch on the one-
piece suit she wore and divested her of the remainder
of the encumbrance between them.
Flesh pressed against flesh, his lips crushed
against hers and he could feel the heat of her skin
everywhere that she touched him. When the feeling
they shared became an almost unbearable necessity,
Riker pulled her body flush with his. He called out
her name and heard her gasp when his lips took the
shell of her ear between them. She was trembling in
his arms. Forcing himself to slow their frenzied
pace, Will opened his eyes and found her staring up
at him. Her lungs drew in breath almost as
erratically as his and her eyes were blacker than
coal.
"Deanna," He swallowed. "I want you. I've
never wanted you more than I do right this instant.
But I want you to feel the same way, and I know that
whatever's happening between us, it's too much, too
fast-"
Troi sucked in a breath. She shut her eyes and
pulled his head down with her hand, kissing him
hungrily. When their mouths disengaged, Deanna drew
her fingers through his hair. "Don't you
understand?" she asked. "I feel everything that
you're feeling. I have to feel it, before that
feeling is shared."
"Catch twenty-two," He brushed gentle
fingertips across the contour of her neck.
"Don't stop," the sound of her voice came back
to him and his body responded before he was able to
even contemplate any other alternative. His mouth
sealed over Troi's with savage urgency and Deanna
murmured her approval, coaxing the back of his neck
with her outstretched arm.
Riker turned his head and captured her hand.
He drew her palm across his lips and caressed the
inset of her arm. Deanna's head fell backward, her
back arched toward him and she whispered his name.
With his heartbeat hammering against the inside of
his chest, Will could feel every breath that she took
as though it were his own, he could sense every
moment of pleasure she experienced. In his wildest
imagination, he had never even begun to realize such
intimacy were possible.
Her eyes were shut and he looked down on her
through a mixture of awe and reverence. She was
right about there never being only one emotion at
play. The intensity of his feeling for her at the
moment rose above even the wonder of their intimate
encounter and he swallowed when he saw her look up at
him; when he felt a rush of uncensored adoration
throughout his entire body.
"This is right." Riker almost laughed. The
expression in his eyes took on a different kind of
light and Deanna tipped her head in confusion at the
sudden shift in his thoughts. "The last time I felt
this way was back on Betazed and it scared the hell
out of me," he admitted, still smiling. "But it
doesn't scare me now. Not even close. It just makes
me feel like everything is -- right. I mean, I knew
before. But this is different. I don't even know if
this makes any sense, but I have to say it." He
exhaled the revelation as though it were a welcome
breath of air. "I need you," He bent to kiss her
parted lips. "I want to be with you. I want us."
He shook his head, "I want this!" He pulled her
unresisting into his arms. When he saw Troi's eyes
again, it was clear that she was crying. "I feel
like I can breathe." He went on, brushing at the
moisture on her face with his fingertips. "Like I
didn't even know that I was suffocating, but all of a
sudden, I'm free."
Deanna let him kiss her another time, their
mouths lingering together while the edge of his face
caressed hers. Neither of them spoke for nearly a
minute, but then she heard his voice again. "I want
us to complete the bond," he whispered against her
skin.
She pulled away from him, eyes large. "Do you
know what you're saying?"
Riker opened his mouth and shook his head, he
had been about to speak but he exhaled instead. "I'm
asking you to marry me, Deanna. I'm asking you to
share a life with me, forever."
Before she could respond, he kissed her again.
Devouring her mouth with needful passion, he
continued kissing her despite the half-hearted
protest she uttered. "Don't answer me now." He
murmured, shutting his eyes when he felt her physical
response to his touch merge with his own sensation of
her. He bore her gently backward against the
mattress and further coherent communication was
indefinitely postponed.
--o--
--------
Chapter 46
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Time is a finite concept borne of physical mortality
and fear.
It swallows up entire generations of dreamers; falls
with harsh
revenge upon the minds of those who dare to see
beyond such
linear boundaries. But time means nothing to the
living spirit.
Pushed against such infinite awareness, the ticking
melts away;
liquid and pliable as the fluid of inspiration."
--------
The greater portion of Riker's morning was
consumed with preparations for the Gillian peace
conference. Though the parties had agreed to meet on
board the Enterprise, there was still a great deal of
reticence between them concerning the possibility of
amicable negotiations, even in a neutral venue.
Still, they would end up talking today, and perhaps
that would be a good enough start. Will tapped the
PADD he was carrying against the side of his thigh
and inspected the conference room one final time.
Everything appeared to be in order. He counted the
chairs yet again. There were six of them. Two for
each party, one for himself and one for Deanna.
Deanna. His mind focussed sharply on her,
remembering their night together. They hadn't slept
for more than three hours in total, he was sure, but
a sense of exhaustion was about the farthest thing
from his mind when he woke in the morning. Deanna's
head lay against his shoulder. Her long, raven hair
fanned out behind her and her warm breath tickled the
hair on his chest. He watched her for several
minutes while she slept; enjoyed the sensation of her
body pressed intimately against the side of his.
And then her eyes had opened. Her head tipped
upward. She smiled at him through a veil of semi-
cognizance.
There was motion on the bridge. Riker's head
snapped upward and he snatched the PADD back into his
grasp before it fell to the floor. Thoughts of
Deanna Troi were definitely not what he needed to be
focusing on right now. With a rueful exhale and a
wry shake of the head, Will walked slowly around the
table, waiting for the moment when the Counselor
would enter with their 'guests'.
The rush of the day's activities ensured that
neither he nor Deanna had seen one another since
their departure from her quarters at 0700 hours.
They had spoken over the COMM regarding arrangements
for the conference, and Deanna had agreed to meet the
delegates upon transport and to escort them to the
table, but beyond the professional pleasantries of
their responsibilities, neither one of them had
mentioned the night before. Not that it would even
have been appropriate under the circumstances. Riker
sighed. The conference couldn't be over quickly
enough.
Without warning, the doors to the boardroom
slid perfunctorily aside and he glanced upward,
watching in that fraction of an eternal instant when
Troi was the only person in the entrance. Their eyes
met and held; he saw the light in her expression that
was meant only for him and offered her a look which
conveyed perhaps more than he might have liked to.
She tipped her head with a knowing half-smile but her
posture remained utterly professional, and though the
exchange had taken fewer than four seconds to
complete, it had been more than enough.
Deanna filed into the room, followed closely by
the delegates of the opposition. Several steps
behind them, the Minister of Gillias walked in with
her aide.
"Minister," Riker nodded, "Thank you for
agreeing to meet on such short notice." The
delegates rounded the table on opposite ends and Troi
took her seat with the other party. Riker pulled out
a chair for the Minister and then found his own seat
as well.
"We want to thank you both for your willingness
to discuss these issues in a neutral place." Troi
glanced at each of the party leaders and smiled. She
folded her hands before her on the table. "It isn't
going to be an easy process, but we truly believe
that if we keep our lines of communication open, we
will at least be able to discuss what needs to occur
in order to facilitate a peaceful solution for
everyone." Her eyes scanned the occupants of the
table.
"We thought, in the interest of fairness, we
might begin with the comments of the GPDS," Riker
used the acronym for the opposing party. "And then
proceed to the Minister's remarks so that you've both
had an opportunity to open with whatever you deem
most appropriate."
"We accept your suggestion." The Minister
inclined her head. "The GPDS may speak first."
"Thank you." Taryn leaned forward in his
chair. He frowned for a moment and then addressed
his remarks directly toward the Gillian Minister. To
her credit, the Minister attended Taryn's words with
absolute decorum.
Riker sighed inwardly. Things had started well
and with any luck, would continue as such. The
problem was that these sorts of negotiations were
notoriously long and arduous. His expression
shifted between the two Gillian parties, both of whom
were wrapped up in conversation. And then he looked
past the leader of the GPDS and straight into
Deanna's dark eyes. She smiled at him across the
table. It was a small, unassuming sort of smile, but
it made him feel as though someone had suddenly
lifted the cloak of his dark mood. He smiled back at
her, drinking in the gentle touch of her presence in
his thoughts while their 'guests' continued,
oblivious.
She was like medicine for his spirit and the
knowledge that she could have such a powerful effect
on him this way was both exhilarating and terrifying.
It made his heart beat faster and his feeling for her
simmer at the surface of his thoughts. He knew that
she could feel what he was feeling, but he wanted her
to know. Deanna's dark eyes flashed; her smile
grew brighter but she looked away from him, curling
her fingers into a fist, she fidgeted with the cuff
of her uniform sleeve and glanced politely at Taryn
while he spoke.
Riker stifled a grin. It was going to be a
long few hours, but at least it wasn't going to be
boring anymore. He leaned forward in his chair and
pretended he cared what the Gillian Minister had to
say in response to the GPDS argument.
--o--
--------
Chapter 47
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"For myself I am an optimist -- it does not seem of
much use being anything else. "
Sir Winston S. Churchill
--------
"Counselor," The Gillian who called himself
Taryn bent at the waist and smiled. "I wanted to
thank you again for what you and Commander Riker were
able to facilitate for my people."
Troi smiled warmly at him. They were standing
at the bar in Ten Forward, speaking on the outskirts
of a room full of people. "We did nothing,
Ambassador," Deanna afforded him the respect of his
new title. "It was only a lack of communication
which prevented your party from achieving an
agreeable solution with the Minister."
"Yet it was a lack of communication which you
managed to alleviate. For that we will always be
grateful."
"Then you're most welcome." Troi set her glass
down at the bar and was about to comment further when
she felt the touch of a large hand on her shoulder
and the familiar electricity of Will Riker's presence
behind her.
"Counselor," His low voice caused a shiver of
anticipation to travel throughout her entire body,
but she resisted the urge to turn where she stood and
wrap her arms around his neck. She opted not to turn
at all; acknowledging his arrival with only the
slightest backward glance. A courteous smile had
already formed on Taryn's lips. "Ambassador," Will
nodded politely at the newly appointed Gillian
official.
Taryn inclined his head, choosing not to
mention the unusually close proximity of the two
Starfleet officers. "I was telling Counselor Troi how
grateful we are for your assistance this day," he
remarked.
Riker stood directly behind Troi, his arm
extended to touch the glass she had just set down.
He was also a little surprised. In truth, he would
have expected Deanna to step carefully away from his
obviously proprietary proximity. It would have been
more in keeping for her to retain the air of
professional decorum she always insisted upon under
most official circumstances -- but she hadn't moved
at all. In fact, she leaned backward casually;
pressing her shoulders against his chest in a
deliberately familiar manner. Her forward attention
remained on their guest.
"We were happy to be of help." Riker smiled.
"I'm certain the Federation will be glad to hear that
Gillias has managed to retain its peaceful legacy for
another generation." He spoke the words as much a
reminder as they were a compliment.
"As you say," Taryn fingered the edge of his
glass. "If you will excuse me, Counselor," his gaze
departed from Troi and moved to Riker, "Commander, I
believe there are several people here who will be
offended if I don't put in an appearance." His smile
was genuine enough, but it seemed obvious there was
more to his desire to leave than simple politics. He
turned from them and made his way into the crowded
room, leaving Troi to tip her head, perplexed.
"Well that was odd." She frowned. "He was
very uncomfortable, but I sensed no duplicity in
him," her shoulders rose and fell.
"He was disappointed." Riker moved next to her
and then in front, finally face to face. "He was
going to hit on you, but then he decided against it."
"I could sense that he was interested in me,
but he was also extremely focussed on the day's
events. I highly doubt that he was going to act on
his impulse." Deanna argued incredulously.
"Well I'm sorry to disappoint your assessment,
Counselor," Riker grinned, "but I'm afraid that's
exactly what it was. I don't need to be an empath to
recognize something like that when I see it. Maybe
it's male ego, but he was definitely about to say --
something-- I'd bet a week's credits on it."
Deanna frowned and the two of them afforded a glance
in the direction of the Ambassador. Will smiled and
raised one eyebrow. Sure enough, Taryn had been
looking back at Troi. He quickly averted his gaze
when their eyes fell upon him.
Deanna turned toward the bar and covered her
mouth with her hand. She shook her head. "I can't
believe I missed that!" Her voice was light and she
sighed. "I guess I just wasn't paying attention."
"Works for me," Will moved behind her and
placed his hands on the surface of the bar, one on
either side of her body. "If you weren't receptive
enough to see him coming, then that means you must
have been pretty distracted..." He grinned and she
turned in his arms so that their bodies faced one
another.
"Distracted is too moderate a word," Troi
exhaled a frustrated breath, "I've been thinking
about you all day long," she frowned when he smiled.
"and that is not a good thing, Will. Especially
considering we had so many other responsibilities to
take care of."
"Oh, I don't know," Riker shrugged, his hands
still fixed to the bar, trapping her in place. "I
think we did a pretty good job, all things
considered. The Gillians aren't fighting anymore."
He lowered his face to her ear, "and neither are we."
"If you keep this up," Deanna whispered back,
"people are going to notice us."
Riker stood up straight and tipped his head.
"Now who's being paranoid about public intimacy," he
smirked.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Actually, I'm glad you brought this up."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, the thing is-"
Their conversation was suddenly cut short when
a loud female voice proclaimed itself outside the Ten
Forward lounge. Deanna's mouth fell open and she
turned where she stood, walking slowly in the
direction of the sound and shaking her head. "It
can't be-"
"Jean-Luc!" A desperate ensign plunged through
the Ten Forward doorway, hot on the heels of a very
loud, very insistent Ambassador Lwaxana Troi --
Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed, heir to the
Holy Rings, holder of the sacred chalice of Riix, --
and mother of Ship's Counselor Deanna Troi. "Jean-
Luc, I demand to see my daughter," she barked. "and
what is all this nonsense about a political
reception? What are you doing having a party out
here when I'm-" her voice trailed off when she ran
into Talyn and nearly knocked the younger man over.
"Oh my, oh, I'm sorry dear. But you really should
watch where you're going."
The Gillian Ambassador stepped backward in
puzzlement, though he apologized and smiled politely.
Deanna Troi froze in her tracks. She turned toward
Will and threw him a stricken look, but Riker was
grinning from ear to ear; as ever thoroughly enjoying
the antics of the Troi matriarch. Frowning at his
good humor, Deanna moved toward her Captain, hoping
to run at least some form of interference.
"Mother," she interrupted, shifting Lwaxana's
attention. "I'm fine. Look," she extended her arms
and turned in a slow circle. "See? All in one
piece."
"Oh great Gods, little one, you *are* all
right! Well, it's so difficult to tell with these
subspace transmissions -- and a mother needs to know.
I had to see for myself. You understand." Lwaxana
hugged her daughter soundly and then held her at arms
length, examining her closely. "Are you sure you're
alright?"
"I'm fine." Deanna persisted. "And this-"
she gestured around the room, "is a political
reception you've just managed to crash." Her voice
held a firm rebuke but the older Troi ignored it with
practiced agility. Her eyes scanned the crowd
momentarily and then settled on Riker.
"William!" She called out to him. "It's so
wonderful to see you again. We'll have to catch up
on the events of the-" Lwaxana's mouth clamped shut
and her eyes widened. "Well it's about time my
dear!" She laughed, "but if you feel that way about
her, why don't you just ask her to marry you?
Neither one of you are getting any younger, you
know."
Riker had only seen the color drain so quickly
from Deanna's face one other time in his remembrance.
Ironically, it was also an instance involving her
mother. Moving forward quickly, he smiled at the
older woman and greeted her warmly. "Ambassador,"
"Oh, for heaven's sake dear, don't call me
that!" Lwaxana scowled. "You're practically
family."
"Mother-" Troi stammered, shaking her head and
clenching both fists at her sides.
"Ambassador," This time it was Picard who
spoke, stepping forward with decorum. "We're pleased
to have you on board, of course," he threw a look at
Riker, "but weren't we going to rendezvous with your
shuttle at Onara-"
"Yes, yes, I moved around my itinerary," she
waved her hand dismissively. "It's a privilege of my
rank that I'm able to pull a few strings now and
then." Her eyes narrowed. "Our initial meeting was
supposed to have been nearly four weeks ago, Jean-
Luc, what could possibly have taken you this long?"
On cue, the Gillian Minister emerged from a
small enclave of people and extended her hand in
greeting. "Ambassador Troi, your reputation precedes
you," the young woman smiled, "we're honored by your
presence here today. But I'm afraid I must be the
one to apologize for monopolizing the attentions of
the Enterprise and her crew. We were in the midst of
certain -- delicate -- diplomatic negotiations," the
two women's eyes locked. "I'm certain you
understand."
For a long moment, Lwaxana was
uncharacteristically silent. Quite suddenly,
however, she smiled. "I imagine so, yes." Her gaze
was sharp and wise. In that moment, Picard was
certain he realized why it was she had been made
Ambassador of her people.
"Mrs. Troi, you must be exhausted," Riker
continued his journey forward, "I could show you to
your quarters-"
"Nonsense! This is a celebration, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is." Riker grinned. "You're welcome
to stay if you'd like." He ignored Picard's slight
cringe and didn't even bother looking over at Troi.
He could feel her eyes on him.
With a characteristic nod and a wave of his
hand, the Captain gave in -- signalling to a group of
musicians to begin playing once more. Very slowly,
the mingling resumed and Deanna moved toward her
mother along the edge of the bar. "Mother," she
whispered harshly, "I cannot believe the scene you
just made."
:::Oh, please, little one,::: Lwaxana answered
telepathically, :::there's really no need to be
petulant about this. I was worried about you. You
hadn't called in nearly a week. What was I supposed
to do?:::
:::Wait! Wait for me to call, mother. You
knew that I was fine, we'd spoken the previous week
and I am not some -- some little girl anymore:::
Deanna scowled.
:::Now there's where you're wrong. You will
always be my little girl, and regardless of how many
years pass in the interim, that one thing will never
change.:::
Despite her own anger over the situation, Troi
found the argument on her lips suddenly deflated and
she sighed. "Mother," she switched to Terran
Standard. "I know that your heart is in the right
place, and that you care about me, but there are
times when I really wish..."
"You wish that I'd stop meddling." Lwaxana's
expression sobered and she smiled wanly at her
daughter. Deanna frowned in return. "I know
that. I do, you know I had a mother of my own once
upon a time. And I swore that I would never be like
her." The older Troi smiled sardonically.
Deanna couldn't help but return the gesture.
"Then what happened?" she asked.
"I had a daughter," Lwaxana shrugged. Deanna
found that she was smiling despite her every attempt
to the contrary. "A daughter-" The Ambassador
continued with a sly tip of the head, "who is
apparently head over heels in love!" Lwaxana glanced
across the room where Will Riker and several other
members of the Enterprise crew were speaking.
Troi sighed and took her mother's arm. "Lets
go for a walk?" she whispered, leading the older
woman toward the Lounge entrance. "There are some
things I need to tell you." Her expression was
serious and so Lwaxana nodded, patting the hand which
Deanna had placed on her arm.
"Of course my darling. Of course."
As the two women left Ten Forward, Riker was
the only one who noticed when Deanna threw a backward
glance in his direction. Their eyes held for a
fraction of a moment and he smiled at her, watching
as she disappeared into the corridor. For several
minutes after she had left, he was still able to feel
the liquid warmth of her silent communication.
--o--
--------
Chapter 48
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"There is room for everything in the world,
so long as we remember the beauty."
--Charles de Lint
--------
"Mother, it isn't that simple." Deanna paced
back and forth in front of her coffee table,
gesturing with both hands. The walk she had taken
with her mother ended up in her quarters, and it was
with a fair degree of trepidation that she faced the
older woman now.
"What's complicated? You do love him don't
you?" From the edge of her seat, Ambassador Troi
smoothed a portion of dress with her hand.
"Yes," Troi nodded. "That hasn't changed,
but-"
"But what? What could be more important than
that? Darling, you know I'd do anything for you, but
I am honestly beginning to think that you're afraid
of getting married."
"I am not afraid." Troi rounded on her mother.
Their eyes locked and Deanna realized her folly
immediately. Lwaxana couldn't possibly have known
about Will's proposal. There hadn't even been enough
time for her to glean the information from Will
himself at the reception. The Counselor's eyes
narrowed.
Lwaxana smiled gently. "He's asked you, hasn't
he?" She lifted her hands defensively. "Now before
you get angry, I wasn't prying, it was only a guess -
- and judging by the expression on your face, it was
a good one."
Deanna exhaled in defeat and dropped herself
into a nearby chair. "You know," Troi scowled, "when
I asked you to walk with me, it was so that we could
talk. Not so that you could second guess everything
I was about to say."
Lwaxana frowned. "You know that's not what I-"
"No, it never is, is it mother?" Deanna lifted
her own hair with both hands and dropped it
uncivilly. "For once would you please just sit there
and *listen* to me? Stop analyzing! Gods, it's no
wonder I'm a psychologist." Troi shook her head.
"Well, it's a relief that I've been granted
credit for at least one positive step in your
lifetime." Lwaxana huffed.
"Mother."
"All right. All right." The older Troi sighed
dramatically. "So? Talk."
Deanna folded her hands in her lap. "You were
right about Will, mother. He has asked me to marry
him."
"Well that's wonderful!" Lwaxana exclaimed and
then shook her head in puzzlement when Troi's
expression hadn't changed from a somber hue. "Isn't
it?"
"He wants us to complete the bond." Deanna
afforded her mother a pointed look and after a time,
the other woman's face fell.
"Well, he must know-" The ambassador
stammered.
"He must? How? How would he know, mother? I
never told him." Troi leveled her gaze. "Did you?"
"Of course not."
"That's what I thought." Deanna sighed. "So
now he's saying--he's saying what I once cried myself
to sleep wishing he would say," her head fell, "only
he has no idea what it is he's saying." She twisted
the fabric of her dress in her hands.
"And you're afraid of telling him." Lwaxana
frowned sympathetically. She touched her daughter's
hand. "I do understand that, little one."
"We were so young. I barely understood what
was happening myself when I had to explain the first
part of it to him; the reason that things were so --
out of control. And then he was gone so quickly,
mother," she glanced up pleadingly. "Isn't there
some way for us to be together without doing this?
I'm only half Betazoid-"
Lwaxana was already shaking her head when
Troi's eyes fell upon her. "Deanna, what you have is
a gift. It's a rare and precious thing. How can you
hope to deny it? Have you so little faith in Will
that you believe he would never accept the truth?"
When Deanna shut her eyes, they were filled
with tears.
"Oh, little one-"
"I trust him." Troi lifted her head and
blinked back the offending moisture. "I do love him,
and he isn't the same person that he was all those
years ago. Neither of us are."
"Then tell him." Lwaxana smiled
affectionately. "Talk to him and find out what he
really feels. You may be the best psychologist in
Starfleet but as you just reminded me earlier, you
can't hope to second guess something like that." She
took her daughter's hand and squeezed it. "Have
faith in William. The Gods know -- whatever it is
that's brought you this close again is a gift in
itself. There is a reason for everything, little
one. We need only embrace the truths we discover as
they fall before us and eke out a future with such as
we're able to shape for ourselves."
Deanna remained where she sat, allowing her
mother's close embrace. "You are so strong, my
darling. And I may not have been the most supportive
of you and William in the beginning, but I was only
reacting to the thought of losing you so soon." She
sighed nostalgically. "The day you came home and I
could sense the change in you -- it terrified me.
Even though I knew that what had happened to you was
a thing to be celebrated and cherished. All I could
think about was the day that you would leave me.
Leave Betazed and everyone behind." Lwaxana held
Deanna at arm's length. "And you did do that."
"But not with Will." Troi swallowed. "I left
on my own."
"Not with Will. Because of Will." The older
Troi smiled. "He flew in on a starship and showed
you what your father showed me." She wrinkled her
nose affectionately. "A glimpse of the universe
beyond."
"You chose to live your life on Betazed."
Deanna shook her head.
"My pathway was a different one than yours has
been. I realized that on the day your young
lieutenant returned to the stars and you went back to
school." Lwaxana shrugged.
"You knew that I would leave? I didn't even
know that I would leave."
"You had already left. Your spirit was no
longer on Betazed, it was only a matter of time
before your body followed."
"But you gave me such a hard time. I agonized
over it for weeks-" Troi frowned.
"Did it change your mind?" The ambassador sat
forward, absently brushing at her dress.
After a time, Deanna exhaled. "No," she
admitted.
"But I made you think about it, long and hard.
I did what I thought was best." Lwaxana afforded her
daughter a serious look. "If I was hard on you, it
was only because I wanted you to be sure. I wanted
you to know that the reasons you chose were the right
ones."
"They were," Deanna answered without
hesitation. "I've never been happier than I have
been these years in Starfleet, and on board the
Enterprise." She squeezed her mother's hand. "I
missed you all terribly; especially you, for the
first few years. But I always knew that I was in the
right place; that I was doing what I was meant to be
doing."
"And so you were."
"Mother?" Deanna lifted her head wiped the
excess moisture from her eyes. Lwaxana tipped her
head expectantly.
"I need to speak with Will." Troi swallowed.
"Tonight."
The older Troi nodded slowly. "I believe you
do." She rose from her seat and Deanna followed.
"Oh, don't worry about me, dear, I know where my
quarters are. They never change."
Troi smiled and shrugged apologetically. When
they arrived at the cabin doorway, both women
stopped. "You know, no matter how many years go by,
whenever I'm with you, I always feel as though I'm a
girl all over again." Deanna sighed ruefully.
"You're going to miss that when I'm gone."
Lwaxana winked.
"Yes, well, you're going to live forever
remember? You offered me that burden the last time I
told you I was still single." Troi grinned back.
"Maybe not forever," Lwaxana amended, "at
least until my third grandchild..."
"Mother." Deanna shook her head.
"Second?"
"Goodnight, mother." Troi waved and tapped the
doorplate, watching with a smile on her face as the
entry slide dutifully shut before her. She blew out
a short breath of air.
The chrono on her desk read nearly 2400 hours
and the Gillian reception would certainly be over by
now. Deanna chewed her lip thoughtfully.
"Computer, location of Commander Riker," she finally
asked.
<Commander Riker is in Ten Forward>
Her brow furrowed. Had the evening gone on
past 2300 hours? It wasn't without the realm of
possibility, but it would certainly have been out of
the ordinary for a political function. "Computer,
how many occupants are there in Ten Forward?"
<There is one occupant in Ten Forward>
She lifted her hand and held it over the tiny
badge pinned to her dress. Her fingertips brushed
against its small metallic surface, and then she
dropped her hand. Lifting the dark skirt from her
ankles, Troi stepped purposefully through the doorway
of her quarters and out into the corridor beyond.
--o--
--------
Chapter 49
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Part of me laughs; part of me cries;
part of me wants to question why."
--------
There was music coming from inside the Ten
Forward lounge and Troi could hear it well before she
arrived at the massive double doorway. The piece was
vaguely familiar to her; a soft piano selection from
Earth, but she was unable to place it. It certainly
didn't fit in with Will's fairly obsessive taste in
classical jazz.
With a single command, she overrode the after-
hours lock on the lounge -- confirming her suspicion
that the reception had indeed come to a close at some
earlier point in the evening. When the doorway
parted for her entrance, the sight before her was one
of casual disarray. As was the case with most
functions which ran late, the clean-up-crew would not
arrive until the early hours of the morning shift.
Ten Forward was a mess. There were decorative
objects and beverage glasses lined up along the outer
edge of Guinan's usually immaculate bar surface.
Chairs were pulled aside from their tables, and
several of the larger musical instruments remained in
the center of the room where their musicians had left
them for re-storage.
As Troi's gaze drifted throughout the dim
lounge, her focus finally settled on Will. It had
taken her a moment or two to find him, very probably
because she didn't believe that her initial sense of
his direction could possibly have been accurate. He
was sitting at the piano, and the music she had heard
before entering was music which he himself was
playing. Her eyes grew large and she approached him
quietly, unwilling to interrupt his concentration.
Riker was still dressed for the evening but his
dress-uniform had been released near the top of his
neck, as had the cuffs of each sleeve. These he had
rolled backward on his arms in order to grant him
greater agility with the keys in front of him. For a
long time, Troi simply stood behind him, watching
while he played. His focus was so filled with the
music he wove that even her sense of him seemed
wrapped in its embrace. Deanna was utterly
enchanted. She had never seen Will this way before;
never imagined that there was a side of him so hidden
that she had yet to discover it. She remained where
she stood until the song came to a lilting close and
her desire to touch him grew beyond bearing. Lifting
her hand, she brushed her fingertips lightly over the
back of his neck, shifting his hair. He hadn't
moved, but she could feel his attention shift
abruptly from its previous focus. It settled on her
and she could sense that he was nervous.
"I never knew that you played the piano." She
was the first to speak.
Riker extended his hand behind him and she took
it, allowing him to pull her around the bench so that
he was able to see her. "I had a music teacher when
I was a kid. She worked at the school but she came
to my house one night a week for an extra lesson
because I guess she thought that I had talent." He
paused and considered for a moment. "Anyway, she
wouldn't let me touch any instrument until I'd
learned to play the piano first." He smiled
nostalgically. "I wanted to play the trombone so
much, I would have done anything."
"But I've never seen you indicate any interest
in the piano before. You haven't even referred to it
in passing."
"Well, I'm not very good at it." He offered her
a self-deprecating shrug. "And you know me, I've got
a few nasty pride issues to overcome."
"Not very good at it?" Deanna shook her head,
"Will, I thought that you were playing a recording
before I came in here. When I saw that it was you, I
was astonished. I had no idea. It was wonderful,"
she added. "I think that I've heard the song before,
but I can't remember what it's called."
"It's called Moonlight Sonata." Riker exhaled
and tipped his shoulder. "My father hated it." He
frowned at the memory. "I must have been nine years
old. I couldn't get the notes right, so I was
practicing and practicing. I really wanted to make
my teacher proud." He glanced up at Troi and smiled.
"I think I had a crush on her too." Deanna grinned.
"Anyway, I never did get it perfect. Dad kept
throwing me outside to do "man" things. Apparently,
playing the piano was for girls."
Deanna drew her fingers through Will's hair.
"So when did you learn?"
Riker's smile transformed into a sly smirk. "I
told my Dad that I was playing sports after school --
which I was -- only one night of each week I'd go to
my teacher's house. I told you," he grinned, "I had
a pretty serious crush on her."
"Apparently," Troi smiled back.
"Well, you know, she had this incredible long,
dark hair -- and these eyes..." he trailed off,
"come to think of it-"
Deanna laughed and swiped the back of his head.
"Right."
Riker sighed. "She taught me to love music,
Dea. And I promised her that I would keep learning
the piano. It was a promise I took seriously, so
even after I got into the trombone, I kept playing.
One day I sat down and I realized that I could sight-
read almost anything I put on the stand."
"You play beautifully."
"Not compared to some of the other musicians
I've heard." he laughed.
"Why compare at all?"
"Well, because-" He furrowed his brow and
shook his head. "I don't know. I guess, that's
always been the way I've looked at things."
Troi nodded sadly. "And if you discover that
you cannot be among the best, you feel as though
there's no purpose in being among those who try at
all." For long moments, Riker merely stared at her,
but then he dropped his shoulders.
"I had to be the best at something. I had to
do that to get away from my father. So I chose
Starfleet," his eyes levelled on Troi. Her dark
expression seemed to swallow him.
"Do you still feel that way?" she whispered.
Riker shrugged. "Not exactly. I don't know.
I guess I'm still pretty competitive. But I've made
peace with my father. I don't feel the same way I
did when I was a kid."
"You have a lot to be proud of in your life,
Will Riker." Deanna laid her hand against his
bearded face, her fingers traced the edge of his jaw.
"So many things you've accomplished which belong only
to you."
Will swallowed and she could sense she'd hit a
mark with him. She tipped her head expectantly until
he spoke. His voice was quiet and his eyes fixed
with hers. "I don't want a life filled with things
which belong only to me anymore." He took her
wandering hand and pressed it to his lips.
Unable to formulate a response, Deanna watched
him move aside on the bench. When he indicated the
spot next to him, she took it in silence, staring
along with him at the piano keys. When neither of
them had spoken for some time, Troi lifted her hand
and pressed down on a note. It echoed in the silence
of the lounge and she found herself exhaling a short
laugh.
Taking her hands in his, Riker placed them on
the keys, positioning each finger. "You hold your
hands like this."
Deanna glanced sidelong at him and smiled. "Are
you going to teach me?" her eyes flashed.
"Do you want to learn?"
"Well, I am an academic brat, aren't I?" her
voice was light and Riker grinned.
"Yes, but you're --my--academic brat." He
brushed his lips against hers, and though he hadn't
intended upon it at the inception of contact, his
mouth sealed over hers and his hands drew away from
the keyboard to the side of her face. He kissed her
slowly, playing an addictive game of tag which soon
coaxed Troi's hands around his neck as well.
"I thought you were going to teach me to play
the piano," Deanna's half-hearted protest tumbled
against Riker's lips and he paused his exploration of
her. Pulling slowly away, he shut his eyes and
swallowed.
"Sorry," he groaned. "I think I got side
tracked there for a moment."
Troi took her lower lip between her teeth and
smiled. "So did I."
His eyes followed the features of her face.
"Shall we start again?"
Deanna giggled and Riker's smile transformed
into a grin. "I meant with the piano."
"I don't know." She exhaled softly. "Is it
going to be a problem if I have a pretty serious
crush on my teacher?"
"We'll work around it," he moved to kiss her
again but she pushed him backward, playfully.
"That's what I'm afraid of." Troi suddenly
sucked in a breath and squared her shoulders. "Will,
the reason I came out here to find you was that I
wanted us to talk."
Attending to the change in her expression,
Riker dropped their teasing repartee and sat up
straight. "Sounds serious," he nodded. "Okay."
"It is serious." Deanna afforded him a pointed
look. "It may be the most serious discussion you and
I will ever have."
--o--
//
--------
Chapter 50
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"What we can easily see is only a small percentage of
what is possible."
--------
With Riker's eyes still on her, Troi stood and
walked slowly around the giant grand piano. She
stopped at the other end of the instrument and
brushed at its surface with the palm of her hand.
"This isn't easy for you, is it?" Will
frowned. "Something's wrong."
"Not wrong; not exactly. There is something I
have to tell you, and I'm not certain how you'll
react." She regarded him frankly.
"About last night."
"Yes," she nodded briefly. "It's about what
you said to me last night."
He exhaled deliberately. "It was too fast,"
Riker shook his head. "I knew that it was too fast.
The thing is, Deanna, for the first time in my life,
I know exactly what I want. I know who I want to be
with when I wake up in the morning. I guess maybe I
didn't really consider whether or not you were ready
to hear what I had to say, but I had to say it
anyway." He glanced down at the piano keys with a
rueful half-smile. "I can't stop thinking about
you."
"It's not too fast," she interjected, her voice
perhaps an octave higher than it should have been.
She smiled at him. "I think that we're definitely on
the same page."
"Then I don't understand," He frowned in
puzzlement.
"You said," she paused for a breath. "You'd
like us to complete the bond."
He nodded. "I would."
"But you don't know what that means." Troi
finished her sentence and regarded him seriously.
"Is that what this is about?" Riker's mouth
fell open and he rose from the bench. Deanna kept
her eyes on him while he moved toward her.
"You need to understand what it is you're
asking for, Will."
"Deanna-"
"Will, please. I need for you to listen to me.
Just for a little while."
Her expression was so intense that Will found
himself bolted to the floor where he stood. He shook
his head. "Okay."
"Come and sit with me?" Deanna moved to a
nearby table and sat, carefully smoothing her long
dress beneath her. Riker pulled a chair from next
to the piano and straddled it backwards, arms crossed
over its back. For a time, Troi seemed to be
considering her words; her dark hair fell over her
shoulders while her head dipped low in thought.
When the silence between them had stretched for
nearly a minute, she finally spoke. "Do you remember
our first night together?"
Will cleared his throat. "Vaguely," he
answered. As anticipated, Deanna's head lifted and
she smirked when she saw that he was smiling.
"I realize it was fairly uninspiring, but bear
with me, please," she teased. Riker nodded
solemnly. "I had been arguing with you for days
before about whether or not you were capable of a
relationship that went beyond physical pleasure."
Her voice was soft and Will found that he was
fascinated by the play of emotion across her
expression as she recalled a night so many years ago.
"I already knew that I was falling in love with you,
but I thought that if I could show you what was
possible beyond the physical, I wouldn't feel as
though I were betraying my spirit to an instinct."
She shook her head at the memory. "What I didn't
understand when I said those things, was that a
physical relationship is woven within a spiritual
one."
"We were both kind of young." Riker met her
gaze. "As I recall, we ended up compromising."
"That's one way of putting it," Deanna allowed
herself a brief smile. "We forged a connection that
night. It was something which neither one of us
could have anticipated would happen."
"Imzadi." He smiled at her and his expression
was so filled with emotion that Deanna wished she
could take hold of him across the table and kiss him
desperately. She spoke instead.
"You asked me what the word meant." Her dark
eyes were large and serious.
"You told me that it meant 'my beloved' but
that there was more to it than that." He tipped his
head at her suddenly sorrowful expression. "Did I
say something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No, you've done nothing
wrong. But I may have."
"I don't understand." He frowned.
"I've misled you, Will. All of these years,
I've told you only half of the truth. And it was
because I was afraid." Her voice caught in her
throat and she swallowed to clear it. "I thought
that you would be frightened if you knew. That you
would leave. When we began serving together on board
the Enterprise, I wanted to tell you again. I
promised myself that I would, but our relationship
changed; we became friends and we were happy. And
the longer we were happy the more I realized that I
was being selfish. I just couldn't-" The tears in
her eyes began to fall with silent fury and she
lifted her hands onto the table, curling them both
inward. "There is a reason why it's so hard for us
to pull away when we touch. Or why, when we're
intimate-"
"It's so intense." Riker cut in to her
sentence, finishing it for her. He rose from his
seat and moved around the table. Pulling Deanna from
her own chair, he drew her into his arms and felt her
stiffen in his embrace. "It's this intense," he
whispered into her hair, fighting his physical
impulse. But the nearness of her body won out over
logic and his mouth descended on hers with punishing
need.
Deanna separated from him with an audible
whimper; her face was flushed and her breath came
quickly. She exhaled a phrase in Betazin that Riker
was able to translate roughly as, "gods give me
strength," and he smiled wanly at her, drawing his
hand along the edge of her face. They had been
silent for several seconds; eyes locked, when Will
finally spoke.
"I understand that there's more you want to
say, but I have a confession I need to make before
you do." Deanna said nothing at first. Her fingers
caught the hand he held against her face and she
pulled it gently downward. When he was no longer
touching her, she took two solemn steps backward --
throwing him an apologetic look as she moved away.
Riker sighed. "Probably a good idea." She
nodded wordlessly and he lowered his gaze, searching
for the words to begin.
"I shipped off planet a few days after we met
in the museum to say good-bye." He toyed absently
with the cuff of his uniform sleeve. "When I got on
board, it was -- awkward. I had been telling myself
that I wanted to get back out into space for so long
that it scared me a little bit when I was finally
granted my wish. I had what I thought I wanted, but
it felt as though it were wrong." He afforded Troi a
thoughtful look. "I was pretty miserable for the
first few days. And I was thinking of you -- all the
time." Deanna continued to watch him silently.
"It was the fifth day I think, and I was in the mess
hall. I had a table off in the corner by myself and
about the last thing I wanted was company, but this
ensign came by and just stood there over my table. I
didn't even look up at him," Riker cringed at the
memory. "Which was sort of a rude thing to do, but I
wasn't in the mood." Will glanced away for a moment
and smiled at a distant thought. "I would have
ignored him completely, except that he spoke to me."
When he hadn't continued, Deanna tipped her
head curiously. "What did he say?"
"Ah." Riker smiled. "This is the good part.
He was just standing there for -- it must have been
three minutes or more -- and then he says, 'Rabeem'."
Will tipped his head and his eyes flashed. Deanna's
eyes widened.
"He was Betazoid?"
"Go figure, huh? Turns out his name was Jes,
and he was the fourth son of the second house."
Riker raised an eyebrow and waited for Deanna to
exclaim, "Jes Veryn?"
"The very same."
"You served with Jes Veryn?"
"For almost a year," Will smiled when she
shook her head. "He told me that you and he were
friends growing up. It was an amazing coincidence."
"He never mentioned that to me," Troi murmured
under her breath. "He's a full commander now, isn't
he?"
"Last I heard." Riker nodded. "And the reason
he didn't mention any of that to you, would have been
because of what happened next." Deanna regarded him
expectantly. "I remember I looked up at him and he
smiled fairly sympathetically." Troi cringed
slightly, and Riker smirked. "You know me well. I
was pretty raw and the last thing I wanted to deal
with was some other guy who thought he had a clue
what was going through my mind."
"What did you do?" she asked cautiously.
"Oh, nothing dramatic, " he shrugged. "I
think I told him to get lost or something equally
brilliant."
"But he didn't leave."
"Nope." Riker chuckled. "The man pulled up a
chair and sat down right across from me like the
highbred slice of nobility that he was." Deanna
rolled her eyes at him but he simply shrugged. "I
was just about ready to try something a little more -
- permanent -- when he looked me in the eye and there
was just -- I don't know -- *something* in his
expression that made me sit back and listen. To this
day, I couldn't tell you what that was."
"I could." Deanna frowned.
"Well," Riker shrugged, "even if he did do
exactly what you think he did, I'm glad that it
happened that way." His eyes met Troi's and he could
see that she was taken aback. "He told me that he'd
been on shore leave visiting family planetside. It
was a bit of a coincidence we were even on the same
ship, so we talked about nothing for a little while
and before I realized it had even happened, he asked
me why I'd left my 'Imzadi' behind." Will dropped
his gaze and pulled absently at the cuff of his
rolled sleeve. "I didn't know what to say. At
first, I thought that he had stolen those thoughts
from me. But he hadn't done that." When his gaze
lifted, Riker found Troi staring at him oddly. Her
expression was impassive. "He asked me how I was
coping and said that if I needed anything, I should
let him know. I had no idea what he meant by that."
Troi finally looked away. "Then you knew."
"Not until he told me, I didn't." Ignoring
their earlier boundary, Will took a step forward and
lifted her chin with his hand. "Jes was a good guy.
He was pretty respectful about the whole thing, and
when I finally let him, he explained to me that I was
suffering from two things. The first, was a fairly
routine case of a broken heart." Deanna regarded him
with dark eyes and Riker took a deep breath,
releasing it slowly. "The second thing; the thing
that made it impossible for me to stop thinking about
you; that filled every waking and unconscious moment
with the empty feeling of your absence, was a half-
completed bond." Will nodded thoughtfully. "He was
amazed, you see, because I was human and you weren't
a full telepath. According to him, the odds of a
bond like ours forming, even between two telepaths
would have been -- one in a thousand?"
Troi shook her head. "It is rare," she bit
down on her lip, "it's so rare that I couldn't
believe at first that it had really happened. The
first night that we were together, it was a romantic
idea, it was something exciting and wonderful; but
even then I didn't realize it had really happened."
"You didn't know, Deanna." Will's expression
was serious. "Not until later. I understood that."
"It seemed impossible. I chose to believe it
wasn't true." She hung her head. "By the time I
realized I had been lying to myself and to you-"
"Jes told me that you had to be going through
the same thing. He said it would get better with
time, but that if we ever got together again it would
be almost impossible to let go. He couldn't believe
that I'd chosen to leave you to begin with." Riker
drew his fingers through the hair near Troi's ear.
"You didn't understand the consequences. I
did." She argued. "By the time I realized the
truth, things had already become difficult for us.
Your career was taking you away from me. I didn't
know when or if I would ever see you again, and I
couldn't ask you to stay; to complete a bond you
probably didn't want any part of."
"It hurt like hell."
"You must have hated me," she whispered.
"Hated you?" Will dropped his forehead against
hers. "How could I have hated you when every time I
opened my mouth for a breath of air, it felt as
though your absence would rip a hole in my chest.
Deanna, I was in love with you." He covered her lips
with his. "That feeling has never left me." She
kissed him back, melted against his body and for a
time, the universe vanished around them. Her hands
lifted over his shoulders and his arms closed behind
her. They stood that way, even after the kiss was
over and Riker touched her face. "Did your
understanding of what was going to happen make it any
easier?"
Troi looked away.
"For months, it felt like my heart was being
ripped out, night after night." His voice dropped to
barely a whisper. "And then one day it began to feel
better. Suddenly I could think of you and not feel
those things. At first I wondered if you had found
someone else."
Deanna shook her head adamantly. "There were
nights," she began, "when I cried myself to sleep and
I could feel your presence so strongly."
"As time went by, and things got better -- we
both moved on. But it was never the same." Riker
added. "Whatever happened between us back on Betazed
might have cooled off, but the human heart in me
still loved you." He paused. "When we met again on
board the Enterprise, I knew why you asked for my
promise that we would only be friends."
"I should have told you, anyway," she whispered
sadly.
"I knew." Riker repeated. "I always knew."
He drew in a breath. "But it doesn't have to be that
way again." He regarded her seriously. "We can make
a choice this time. If we're going to be together,
it can't go on like this." Riker placed the back of
his hand against the side of Troi's face. "I want to
be with you. I know that if we complete the bond,
there's no turning back. But maybe we aren't meant
to turn back. I can't imagine a life without you in
it."
"Will, if we do this, it may impact our careers
in Starfleet. There is no precedent for two officers
in a situation like ours."
"Then we'll be the first." He took both of her
hands in his. "Do you want to be with me?"
She nodded slowly, lifting their joined hands
and kissing the outside of his.
"We can't be together if we don't complete the
bond." He smiled affectionately and Deanna returned
the gesture. "We'll both go crazy."
"I feel like I'm already crazy," she groaned.
"The link isn't meant to be left open this way."
"Then marry me, Imzadi." Riker drew her gently
toward him. "Be with me." His blue eyes traveled
over every centimetre of her face. "Complete the
bond with me."
Deanna's lips came together; she looked down at
the floor for a moment before her eyes focussed on
his. Her nod came before the sound of her voice,
and Riker had her in his arms at the very instant
that she spoke.
The meeting of their mouths swallowed the first
of her audible responses. In between breathless
kisses, he heard her repeat herself, whispering
against his lips; the side of his face; the edge of
his ear. And even though being with her this way had
driven the last of his self-control from existence,
Riker had the presence of mind to call for a command
security lockout of the Ten Forward lounge before
their bodies sank to the floor and the whisper of
Deanna's voice became an entirely different entreat.
--o--
--------
Chapter 51
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Watch your thoughts, for they become words.
Choose your words, for they become actions.
Understand your actions, for they become habits.
Study your habits, for they will become your
character.
Develop your character, for it becomes your destiny."
--------
Through a shimmering portal in the Enterprise's
Ten-Forward Lounge, the great eye of the universe
looked down with sparkling starlight on a pair of
lovers.
Laying in the shadow of a giant grand piano,
Troi drew her hand across Riker's chest; she
remembered the first time she had done so and she
smiled. It was a distinction between Betazoid and
human men that the latter often had hair on their
chest, face and arms. In the beginning of her
relationship with Will Riker, that aspect of his
physiology had fascinated her; excited her for its
difference. But now, after so many years, it was
simply a part of who he was. She felt about it, the
way she felt about him.
For the moment, he held her close; her nude
body half atop his. She opened her eyes and regarded
him playfully when he pulled his fingers through her
hair.
"You have this obsession with my hair," she
whispered, smiling.
"I know." He furrowed his brow. "I think I
need counseling."
She giggled. "Well, I'll see if I can refer you
to someone."
Riker grinned and rolled over, pinning her
gently to the floor. "Really? Because, I think I
have other issues as well. It would have to be
someone --very-- dedicated."
Deanna raised an eyebrow, belaying his kiss by
inserting her hand between their lips. Her
expression grew serious. "We might have to have you
committed."
"Sounds like fun." He kissed her hand instead.
"Will I have a padded cell?"
"Probably." Troi nodded solemnly. "It would
be more comfortable than this floor, in any event."
Her quip was followed by a short grimace and Riker
laughed. Taking her into his arms, he lifted their
bodies so that he was able to sit while she straddled
his waist.
"Better?" he asked, still playing with her
hair. Deanna grinned.
"Do you want it?" She grabbed an errant lock
of raven tendril from atop her head, examining it
with narrowed eyes. "You have no idea what a pain it
is in the mornings. You're welcome to it, I'd much
rather go short."
"Deanna," Will dropped both hands and placed
then behind his back for leverage. "You could shave
your head, dress up like a Tarcalian desert banshee
wearing a sackcloth and you'd still be the most
beautiful woman I've ever met."
For a brief moment, Troi almost surrendered to
the compliment, her dark eyes softened, but then she
smiled. "You must not get around very much,
Commander. What would the rest of the ship think if
they knew that your infamous reputation was all a
facade?" Before he could respond, Deanna leaned
forward, placing her lips against Will's; the warmth
of her breathy laughter tickled his mouth before she
kissed him.
Riker sighed and shut his eyes. "You know, I
think I'm actually going to miss it when our being
together isn't this -- insanely intense -- anymore."
"Don't worry," Troi whispered in his ear, "that
part isn't going to change." Riker's eyes widened
as she pulled away. With a coy smile, Deanna
shrugged. "We'll have better control of our
emotions, we'll be able to concentrate when we want
to; but intimacy is always going to be a little --
insane."
Will's lazy smile transformed into a full grin
and he tipped his head. "I didn't know that."
"Yes, well, I'm certain Jes wouldn't have been
the first to bring something like that up, either.
Despite our obvious cultural differences, there are
still one or two innate gender differentiated
similarities between Terran and Betazoid males." She
chuckled at Riker's expression.
"Thank you, Counselor." He pinned her with a
direct gaze. "Is there anything --else--you'd like
to share?"
Deanna wrinkled her brow and paused
thoughtfully, she threw him a look. "I already told
you about my understating the 'phase', didn't I?"
Will didn't respond. He was staring at her
strangely and Troi shook her head. "What is it?"
His expression remained until he lifted his arms from
behind him and took her face between them. Kissing
was like an artform for Will Riker and Deanna never
ceased to marvel at his ability to tease her into
breathless submission. When she was finally able to
breath again, she saw that he was still examining her
features.
"Did you really say yes?" He shook his head in
awe, but she smiled.
"Yes," Troi repeated quietly. "Several times."
"Lets not wait," his blue eyes flashed. "I
don't want to wait another day. I can barely wait
another hour-"
Deanna's mouth fell open and she found herself
searching for a response, but before she had found
one, the access light on the Ten Forward doorway
flashed and there were voices on the other side. Her
gaze locked with Will's.
"The clean-up crew!" She lifted her hand to
her lips. "They're trying to get in. What time is
it?"
Riker shrugged helplessly. "Computer, time?"
<The time is 0430 hours>
Their eyes shifted from the entrance to the
lounge and back again. With a quiet exclamation,
Deanna hopped from Will's embrace and began gathering
their discarded clothing from the floor. She tossed
Riker his uniform and began putting on her dress as
the voices outside grew more confused.
"What do we say?" She asked, turning so that
he could fasten the back of the evening gown. Before
he complied with her silent request, Riker drew the
tip of his index finger along the edge of her spine.
Troi shivered involuntarily. "Will!" she gasped.
He winked at her, fastened the catch of her garment,
then pulled on the top of his uniform.
They had dressed completely when to Deanna's
dismay; Riker called out, "Computer, release
security lock, Ten Forward, authorization Riker Omega
Five." The computer beeped a dutiful response and
the entrance slid suddenly open. A crew of four
young officers glanced in perplexed astonishment at
the now-open doorway, but their surprise was only to
grow when they found themselves regarding two senior
officers, standing in the dim light of the lounge.
"Sir!" The shift leader stammered. He saw the
Counselor first, but his eyes quickly discovered
Commander Riker just behind her and his gaze shifted
between them. Both officers were dressed as they
must have been the night before. He swallowed.
"We're here for clean-up sir."
"As you were ensign." Riker nodded sternly,
but he threw a backward glance at Deanna and nearly
smiled at her obvious discomfort. She was hiding it
well.
"Are you all right sirs?" One of the other
ensigns asked, "The door was--ouch." She grimaced
and scowled at the young woman beside her.
"We're fine." Troi nodded at the girl.
"Ensign Kaller, isn't it?" Riker cocked his
head.
"Yes sir." She nodded. "Shall we come back?"
"No need." Riker surveyed the disarray around
them. "The lounge is all yours." He turned toward
Deanna and took her hand, leading her around the end
of the piano toward the doorway. As they reached the
entrance and passed the clean-up crew, Riker turned.
The group was obviously curious and they had
definitely noticed the way he'd taken the Counselor's
hand. Will smiled at the young shift-leader. "It's
pretty early in the morning for a duty assignment,"
"Yes sir." The young man smiled back.
"I was thinking," Riker's gaze settled on Troi.
"They might be the first to know." Deanna's eyes
widened, but then she smiled at him; she smiled and
she nodded. Will needed no further encouragement.
He turned, offering each of the four young officers a
smile of his own. "We're engaged," he pulled Deanna
toward him.
Ensign Kaller squealed. "Oh, oh --
congratulations!" Her delighted exclamation was
followed by several more from her peers. As they
thanked the young officers for their well wishes and
made their way through the corridor toward the
turbolift, Will and Deanna heard a harsh whisper from
behind them. It proclaimed, "I told you they were a
couple!"
Troi grinned, preceding Riker into the lift
where she turned. Will was shaking his head. "How
is it that everyone else knew before we did?" The
door slid shut behind him.
Deanna's eyes were alight with playful
mischief. Ignoring his comment, she came forward and
pressed him against the wall of the turbolift. "I
can't believe you just did that!"
"That's what I was going to tell you earlier in
the evening before your mother arrived." Riker
shrugged slightly. "I seem to have gotten over my
concern for public intimacy." He leaned forward and
kissed her parted lips.
Deanna sighed and lifted her hand to his face.
"Vaulted over is more like it. It's going to be all
over the ship by alpha shift, you realize." She bit
her lower lip.
"I'm counting on it." He lost himself in her
dark eyes.
"I love you," she whispered.
He kissed her again, their mouths lingered
together afterwards. "I never thought I'd be saying
this," Will drew his lips across hers. "But I think
it's time we went to see your mother." He pulled
away and recaptured her hand. "We're going to need
her help."
Deanna smiled. "She's never going to let us
live this down, you know."
"I can live with that." Will shrugged
slightly.
Troi regarded him thoughtfully for a moment.
"So can I," she squeezed his hand.
--o--
--------
Chapter 52
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"We cannot change yesterday.
We can only make the most of today,
and look with hope toward tomorrow."
--------
"Deanna, congratulations! I just heard the
news," Beverly Crusher bounded into Counselor Troi's
office, smiling warmly. "And why didn't you tell me
this morning -- I had to hear it from a lieutenant in
sickbay!" Crusher paused when it became apparent
that she was not about to receive an answer to her
reprimand. "Deanna?" She walked forward and passed
her hand across Troi's field of view. "Enterprise to
Counselor Troi," she teased.
"What?" Deanna turned, observing her friend as
though she'd only just realized there was someone
else in the room. "I'm sorry," she shook her head,
rising from the high-back chair which sat behind her
desk. "My mind was elsewhere."
"I could see that." Crusher afforded her an
amused expression. "Are you feeling all right?"
Troi dropped her shoulders but said nothing.
Finally she sighed; a slow and soulful exhale. "I'm
-- wonderful." A smile transformed her face and
Beverly couldn't keep from grinning.
"I've seen teenagers with a first crush have
more self control than that," Crusher laughed.
"You," Troi pointed one finger at her friend,
"have absolutely no idea," she muttered
disparagingly.
"Well okay, so ... enlighten me." Doctor
Crusher sat on the edge of Troi's desk.
"I'm --so--in love!" Deanna sank dramatically
onto one of the large, overstuffed patient couches in
her suite.
Beverly shook her head in amazement. "What are
you on??" she laughed.
"Very funny," Troi frowned slightly, "But
you're not far off the mark. If Will and I don't fix
this link fairly soon, I'll end up trying anything."
Her brow furrowed thoughtfully, "I wonder if anything
would actually work for-"
"Wait a second, Deanna," Crusher interrupted.
"What are you talking about? What link?"
Troi pulled her knees up to her chest and drew
her arms around them. She looked uncomfortable,
sitting that way; clad in full Starfleet uniform.
"Will and I are bonded." Deanna spoke simply, as
though those five words were all the explanation
anyone could possibly require. She fixed her gaze on
a painting which hung near the entrance to her office
and then sighed. "Partially bonded actually, which is
entirely the problem."
"I'm afraid you've lost me." Beverly narrowed
her eyes.
"It's difficult to explain." Troi lifted her
gaze and regarded the doctor. "Medically there's
really nothing wrong."
"You're acting like a moony-eyed school girl,
Deanna, there's definitely --something--going on.
Tell me about this bond," Doctor Crusher crossed her
arms over her chest and Deanna sighed again.
"It's a spiritual connection, Beverly. On
Betazed, we call it "Imzadi"."
"I've heard you use that word before." Crusher
nodded.
"Yes. On the surface, it simply means
'beloved' or dear one. But beneath that connotation
is a far deeper meaning. It's very rare. It happened
to Will and I when we were both fairly young." She
trailed off.
Beverly frowned. "Are you saying that you've
been 'linked' this way for all these years? You
certainly haven't acted this strangely before."
"I know." Deanna smiled at some distant
memory, "He and I never crossed the boundaries of
friendship on this ship, before."
Beverly smiled incredulously. "You mean, being
physically intimate is doing this to you?"
"Not exactly." Troi let her legs uncurl and
sat up on the small couch. "Allowing ourselves any
measure of romantic intimacy would have re-awakened
the link. Sleeping together only helped things along
more quickly."
"Well," Crusher smiled wanly, "I hate to break
it to you, counselor but you look -- pathetic."
"I know," Troi groaned, shaking her head in
frustration. "It's driving us both crazy. I can't
stop thinking of him, it feels as though he's so
close. When I shut my eyes, I can almost," her eyes
fell shut and she lifted one hand as though there
were something in front of her.
"Deanna." Beverly's hands on Troi's shoulders
forced the empath's eyes to open. "Get a hold of
yourself."
"It's really not this bad all the time." she
swallowed. "Most of the time I'm fine. It's only
when it gets this way that it's almost impossible to
concentrate." She smiled apologetically. "The only
thing that seems to help is meditation, which is what
I was trying to do-"
"When I came in here and interrupted you."
Crusher finished for her. "Sorry."
"It's all right." Troi exhaled slowly. "I'm
feeling a little better already."
"You look a little better." The doctor nodded
appraisingly. "Is this going to go away?"
"Yes," Deanna laughed at the absurdity of
Crusher's implication. "Yes, if we complete the
link, we'll both be fine. It's only because it's
open this way that it's a little ... unstable."
"You can say that again." Beverly thinned her
lips, "Does this sort of thing happen to Will as
well?"
Troi nodded uncomfortably. "Usually at the
same time. It's become awkward for both of us. "
"Is that why you're getting married so quickly?
To complete the bond?" Crusher regarded her friend
seriously.
"No," Deanna smiled and shook her head. "The
wedding is simply a wedding. For Will and I to
complete the bond, tradition dictates we need the
help of another telepath." She paused thoughtfully.
"We've decided to combine the two ceremonies. As far
as I'm aware, this sort of union has never occurred
for any two people who weren't telepathic before,"
she exhaled a short laugh. "I suppose we'll be the
first." Rising from her seat, Troi moved slowly
through her office, glancing at numerous pieces of
artwork while she spoke. "Imagine that you'd cut
your finger," she turned toward Crusher and paused.
"If it were a deep enough cut, you would need a
doctor or some other intervention to close the
injury. But that is only the first step toward
healing."
"Because most biological injuries continue
healing after they're regenerated," the doctor
acknowledged.
"Exactly." Troi nodded. "In the same manner,
another telepath is able to help bring an already
established connection together," she placed her
palms flush against one another, "but only the two
who are bonded can finish the link. That part is
very personal and happens afterwards."
"Sounds like that would make for quite a
wedding night," Beverly leaned forward with
interest. "If you don't mind my sucking the romance
right out of this," she smiled. "from a purely
clinical perspective, you make it sound as though the
two of you are meant to be together; in order to
complete some larger whole."
"I suppose, in a way, that's true."
"But what if things didn't end up this way?"
The doctor shrugged. "What if you or Will had never
made this decision? Imagine one or both of you had
married someone else?"
Deanna seemed to consider for a moment. She
lifted a small statue from the edge of her desk and
held it in her hand. "What if --" she turned toward
Crusher and tipped her head. "you hadn't chosen to
be a doctor? What if there were no ship called
Enterprise?" Troi raised one eyebrow and smiled.
"The universe is filled with 'what ifs'; roads not
taken, journeys yet to be discovered." She lifted
her head, remembering the conversation she'd had
earlier with her mother. "Perhaps," Deanna set the
tiny statue down once more. "We need only embrace
the truths we discover as they fall before us and eke
out a future with such as we're able to shape for
ourselves."
"Wow," Beverly nodded thoughtfully.
"I'm afraid I can't take credit for that last
bit." Troi threw her friend a wry smile. "My mother
said that to me last night. I think I'm only just
now beginning to fully understand what she meant."
"I have new respect for your mother every time
I meet her." Crusher inclined her head. "So," she
moved forward and took her friend's arm. "What do
you say we grab some lunch?" Her blue eyes flashed.
"You can tell me all about your plans..."
"What plans?" Troi laughed. "We don't even
know what kind of ceremony it's going to be."
"Oh, that part's easy." Beverly smirked.
"Lwaxana will have us all court marshaled if it's not
a Betazoid wedding."
"Good point." Deanna nodded solemnly. "You
think the Captain will mind performing in the nude?"
"Oh, God! Can I be there when you present him
with the option?" Crusher threw her head back and
cackled.
--o--
--------
Chapter 53
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The currents that determine our dreams
and shape out lives, flow from the attitudes
we nurture every day."
--------
In the early hours of ship's afternoon, Deanna
Troi rounded the corridor near her office. Humming
softly to herself, she smiled once more at Beverly's
overly enthusiastic wedding suggestions. Though it
would be a few hours until she was able to meet with
her mother regarding additonal preparations for
formalizing the bond she shared with Will, it seemed
as though so many things were finally falling into
place. And more quickly than she would ever have
imagined.
Will was determined to be married within the
week and though the thought of such accelerated plans
caused her heart to race against the inside of her
chest, it was impossible not to feel a little anxious
as well. On the one hand, there was no question of
her feeling for him; on the other, they were about to
be -- *married*!
She paused in her tracks and shut her eyes,
inhaling deeply. Calm: a quiet place to think.
That was what she needed. Stopping outside of the
door to her office, Troi tapped in the security code
and stepped inside, exhaling a long held breath of
air. She was finally alone.
"Breathe, Deanna, release your thoughts," the
reminder of her own voice seemed to help center a
tenuous balance of emotional control and a wry
expression formed at the corners of her lips. "What
have you done to me, Will Riker?" she smiled self-
indulgently.
The entry chime in her office sounded and Troi
turned where she stood. Interrupted from the
breathing exercise she had begun, her curious gaze
regarded the doorway. She had no further patients
scheduled for the remainder of the day. It hadn't
seemed appropriate for her to counsel anyone,
considering her sense of emotion had become so
unpredictable of late; she was barely able to discern
at times what she herself was feeling.
"Come in?" she called, tipping her head as the
entry slid open and an all too familiar problem
loomed large. Deanna pulled her fingers up to her
face, covering a frustrated groan.
"I'm sorry, am I interrupting you?" The
hesitant voice of her visitor caused her to lower her
hands and sigh.
"No, Will." She offered him an apologetic
smile. "I was just-" she lifted and then dropped
her arms in a helpless gesture.
"Trying to think of anything but the two of
us," he nodded sympathetically, "I know. I was doing
the same thing." Walking slowly toward her, he
stopped when he was only a few feet away. "Then I
realized something."
"What was that?" she threw him a look.
"We're both getting worse," he chuckled, "an
hour ago on the bridge, I had to relieve *myself*
from active duty because I couldn't concentrate on
anything," he blew out a short breath, "except you."
Riker's eyes flashed, "but as I left the bridge, I
started thinking. Obviously neither one of us will
be productive in our regular duty assignments while
we feel this way, but this unpredictability is only
going to last for another day or so."
Deanna nodded mutely, her expression indicative
of the fact that she still wasn't quite following his
line of logic.
"So, I was wondering," Will went on, "why are
we fighting it?"
Troi's eyes grew and her head shifted backward.
She opened her mouth as though to speak but then shut
it again, suddenly dropping her gaze and glancing at
the floor. After a brief moment of silence, she
lifted her head once more and her eyes locked with
his. "I don't know," she admitted.
"That's what I thought." The look in his eyes
was sharp and serious. They stood that way for only
an instant -- one dizzying fraction of a second
before Deanna flew into his arms. Her fingers
tangled in his hair and she mumbled soft
encouragement when his lips descended on hers.
"Oh, Gods, don't stop," Troi's warm breath
caressed the edge of Riker's face and he turned
toward her mouth, recapturing it with needful
passion. There was barely a moment of space between
them.
"Have you spoken to your mother yet?" he drew
warm lips across her neck and took the lobe of her
ear gently between his teeth.
"Not yet," she exhaled sharply, peppering
feather-light kisses along his skin. "We're meeting
later this afternoon."
"That's good," Riker groaned when the side of
Troi's face pulled slowly across his. His hands
slipped down her arms and then moved up the back of
her uniform from behind. "You feel so incredible."
He shut his eyes and pressed his face into her hair.
The sultry sound of Deanna's laughter preceded
her hand as it cupped the back of his neck, coaxing
him toward another heart-stopping meeting of mouths.
Riker suddenly pulled her body flush with his and
drew them both down into a seated position on one of
the couches in her office. She tucked her legs
beneath her and leaned sideways against the back of
the overstuffed piece of furniture, relaxing her arms
around Will's shoulders. "We should see the
Captain." She smiled coyly; running her fingers
across the back of Riker's neck. "Beverly tells me
he hasn't been 'officially' informed as yet."
"You know, he was acting a little odd this
morning," Will agreed, resting the side of his head
on a cushion. Deanna moved forward and suddenly
they were nose to nose; he kissed her playfully. "I
traded off with him for bridge duty and it was
obvious that he already knew, but he just looked at
me. I think he was expecting me to say something."
"And you didn't?" She laughed. "Why not?"
"Well, I thought we should do it together."
Riker shrugged, watching her smile only inches away
from his face.
With a thoughtful nod, Troi unexpectedly
plucked herself from the couch and stood. "Perhaps
we should."
"Right now?" He rose to his feet after her.
"What's wrong with now?" she threw him a
provocative smirk.
"Well, I suppose now might be considered as
good a time as any," Will pretended to nod, moving
slowly around the perimeter of the couch. As soon as
Deanna turned to watch his progress however, he
rounded on her and grabbed hold of her waist; lifting
the counselor from the floor with astounding ease.
"Will!" she gasped, "put me down!"
Riker laughed. Shifting her from a precarious
position on his shoulder, he folded Deanna into his
arms and set her feet back on solid ground. As her
altitude changed abruptly, Troi had no choice but to
grasp Will's shoulders for purchase. Their eyes
locked and she huffed incredulously at his all-too-
smug expression. "You're only getting away with that
because I'm in a generous mood," she whispered
dangerously.
"Duly noted," he grinned.
"And one other thing." She narrowed her eyes.
"What's that?"
Troi regarded him for a brief moment, her hands
still resting on his shoulders. "This," she finally
smiled, grasping the side of his neck so that his
legs turned to jelly beneath him. It was a move from
Worf's combat classes and Riker knew it well; a fact
which did little to stop him from falling victim to
it miserably.
For the fraction of an instant that her hand
made contact with his skin, Will felt his body lose
its balance. Deanna reached behind him, pulling
something from his grasp even before he was aware she
had realized he was carrying the item. His eyes
widened, but by the time he regained his purchase,
she was already on the other side of the room,
grinning triumphantly and holding his prize firmly in
her grasp.
"You little vixen-" He shook his head,
frowning without a hint of sincerity.
"Oh, get over yourself," she scolded him,
"what are you hiding, anyway? It's been on your mind
ever since you came in here." Troi's gaze traveled
downward as her arm traveled upward and the focus of
her vision settled on the item in her hand. "Will,"
her mood shifted and she whispered his name softly,
cradling her new treasure with reverence. A slim,
delicate band of white cloth dangled through her
fingertips. It was of the kind traditionally
presented to a Betazed woman upon her engagement.
Riker cleared his throat self-consciously. "I,
um, wasn't sure that it was right. But I wanted to
make it myself, so I guess it's probably not exact."
"It's beautiful," She lifted her gaze and
settled a pair of enormous dark eyes on him. It was
an odd moment for Riker, because in that very
instant, he found himself paradoxically wondering
whether his legs had been steadier a minute ago.
"You made this?" she let her eyes wander over the
gauzy material, trading her attention between it and
the man in front of her.
He shrugged slightly.
"You couldn't have done this in a day," Deanna
shook her head, still in awe of the beautiful cloth
she held.
"I didn't," Riker allowed, "I actually started
it -- well, a long time ago."
When she looked up again, the Counselor's eyes
were glassy with unshed teardrops. She moved
silently toward one of the large mirrors in the suite
and lifted her hair, threading the band of cloth
through it. Regarding her reflection for only a
moment, Deanna watched Will approach from behind her.
"Now its beautiful," he smiled, placing one
hand on her shoulder. She turned in his arms and
drew his face toward her, shutting her eyes and
kissing him so gently that he barely felt the touch
of her lips on his. Responding to her nearness,
Riker tasted the salty moisture of her teardrops; he
explored the warm pull of her mouth and his spirit
filled with the sensation of her presence in his
mind.
"Thank you," her murmur of approval dusted
across his lips and he sighed.
"I think we both know why we've been avoiding
talking to the Captain." Riker looked down at Troi
and she nodded wordlessly. "But we're going to have
to do it eventually," he added. Again, she nodded.
Taking his hand when he slipped it around her
waist, Deanna leaned against his larger frame and
bumped him playfully with her hip. "Why don't we
just go." Her quiet suggestion settled over them
both. "Putting this off any longer isn't going to
change the truth. Or Starfleet's protocols."
"No, it's not." Will exhaled a slow breath of
air. "But you know what?" his serious expression
remained. "Nothing is going to stop me from marrying
you this time." Riker squeezed Troi's hand. Her
answering smile was all the encouragement he needed.
--o--
--------
Chapter 54
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The currents that determine our dreams
and shape out lives, flow from the attitudes
we nurture every day."
--------
Captain Jean-Luc Picard leaned over the desk in
his ready-room and regarded two of his senior
officers seriously. "Married?" he thinned his lips.
It seemed obvious that he had already known. But for
reasons of his own, he was choosing to allow their
announcement to appear as though it were his first
awareness of the subject.
"Yes, sir."
Standing next to Riker, Troi stepped forward.
"We realize that ours is a somewhat delicate
request," she kept her hands at her sides. "Since
Will and I are both senior officers on this ship, our
marriage might represent a problem for Fleet Command.
One or both of us may be chosen for reassignment as a
result."
"I'm glad you are aware of that fact,
Counselor." Picard nodded slowly. "Fleet Command
does not look favorably on married couples within the
senior hierarchy of a tactical deep space vessel.
Have you considered your response to an order for
reassignment should the scenario arise?"
Moving forward, Riker took Troi's hand in his.
"We have, sir. We'd like to continue serving on
board the Enterprise of course, with your permission
-- and Starfleet's -- but if that becomes impossible,
we may both request a planetside assignment."
"Planetside? Will Riker would be willing to
request a planetside assignment?" The Captain sat
backward in his chair and pulled down on his uniform
top. "This must be serious," he finally sighed.
"Very well, Number One, Counselor." His frown
transformed into a slight smile. "I think it's fairly
safe to assume that this entire ship and her crew
will be more than thrilled at your decision. And I
would be honored to marry you both," he folded his
hands before him on the desk, "as for Starfleet, I
can give you no guarantees. I can only predict that
we will have ample opportunity to deal with their
comments when -- and if -- they arise." He pinned
them both with a direct gaze. Riker was already
grinning and Deanna exhaled a breath she hadn't even
known she was holding.
"Thank you, sir." Will nodded.
"Yes, well -- it's about damn time, don't you
think?" Picard smiled back at them.
"Yes, sir." Troi laughed, glancing up at
Riker. "It's about damn time."
"Hey, don't look at me like that," he grinned,
whispering so that only she could hear, "you were the
one with the rulebook."
Deanna made an incredulous sound.
"There is one other thing," the Captain
interjected; his face suddenly impassive. "Before I
agree to perform this ceremony, is this to be a --
traditional -- Betazoid wedding?"
Riker opened his mouth and then clamped it
shut, turning toward Troi. "We haven't decided that
yet, sir." He shrugged, eyes still on Deanna.
"Would it be a problem if it were?" His gaze
returned to Picard.
"Not precisely." The Captain frowned. "It's
only that -- certain members of the crew -- may not
feel comfortable appearing without clothing as
prescribed by the ritual." Picard cleared his
throat.
Troi smiled brightly. "Captain, I'm certain
we'll be able to work around any 'cultural
differences' which the ceremony might present."
"Then I will trust in your capable efficiency
as always, Counselor." Picard nodded at her. "I
imagine that congratulations are in order for both of
you."
"Thank you, sir" Riker shifted where he stood.
"If possible, we'd like to do this as quickly as we
can."
Picard raised an eyebrow as Deanna quickly
intervened. "There are some personal issues which
Will and I are grappling with at the moment. Issues
that may only be resolved once the ceremony is
completed."
The Captain seemed to consider for a moment.
"I understand." He finally nodded. "To be frank, I
see no reason why there should be any sort of undue
delay-"
<Bridge to Captain Picard> The curt hail of
the Enterprise's acting tactical officer sounded over
the intercom.
"Go ahead, Lieutenant." Picard sat back in his
chair.
"Sir, there's a priority one hail coming
through with an unverified Starfleet signature."
"Priority one?" The Captain frowned. "Is it a
distress call?"
"No sir, not that we've been able to identify.
It appears to be a civilian freighter, touched down
on the southern continent of Ony'am in sector 004."
Both Riker and Troi glanced up in surprise.
"Ony'am is the third planet in the Betazoid solar
system," she murmured. "There are at least two
established colonies down there in the northern
hemisphere."
Without further discourse, Picard placed his
hands on either side of his chair and rose to his
feet. "On our way, Lieutenant," he nodded,
affording a glance at Riker where he stood. "I was
informed that you removed yourself from active duty
this morning, Commander, but do you feel that you and
the Counselor might be able to take your stations at
this time?"
Feeling quietly relieved at the Captain's
discretion, Will shared a brief look with Deanna, who
shrugged. "We will, sir," he took his eyes off her
and nodded.
"Good. Lets find out what the situation is on
Ony'am, shall we?"
Three officers turned without comment and left
the Captain's chamber.
..//
--------
Chapter 55
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The best way to predict the future...is to create
it."
--------
"Do we have a clear transmission?" Captain
Picard strode onto the bridge accompanied by
Counselor Troi and Commander Riker.
Lieutenant Quan examined his tactical console.
"Yes sir. Incoming transmission from Ony'am has
cleared the decoding process, it's a Starfleet
signature."
"Whose?" Riker tossed the young lieutenant a
sharp look.
"It's a facilities code, sir, unattached to
individual access. It could belong to a medical
center or an educational institution. We haven't
assigned it as yet."
Riker frowned. "What's a civilian freighter
doing with a Starfleet institutional code?" The
question was rhetorical, but the Captain exhaled
thoughtfully.
"On screen, Lieutenant." Picard moved
stoically toward the command seat and stood in front
of it, facing an enormous portal often referred to as
'the eye of the Enterprise'. At the Captain's
command, the view screen flickered briefly and then
displayed a face which forced a look of surprise to
the forefront of every expression in the room.
"Greetings, Federation vessel," A squat,
bulbous-looking Ferengi smiled at the bridge crew
through a gap-toothed maw. "Thank you for answering
our hail so quickly," he nodded perfunctorily and
then motioned to his right where another Ferengi
officer came scrambling forward. "I am DaiMon Thoth,
commanding officer of the Ferengi transport ship
DuMar. This is Nuk, my second in command."
With a quick tug on his uniform top and a
sidelong glance at Riker, who appeared as stunned as
the rest of the bridge crew, Picard set forth his
most impassive expression. "DaiMon," he
acknowledged. "I'm Captain Picard of the starship
Enterprise. How is it that you came to hail us using
a code reserved for Federation personnel?"
"A valid question, Captain." Thoth inclined
his head. "We are -- acting as a school ship, for
the Danarian Academy on Veris Prime."
Riker threw a backward glance at Troi. Their
eyes met for a fraction of a moment and he noted that
she too was trying to conceal an incredulous
expression.
"A school ship?" Picard moved forward. "Are
you saying that the Danarian Academy -- which, as I
recall is a primary school facility -- has
commissioned a Ferengi charter ship as a means of
transport?" The Captain shook his head. "You'll
pardon my candor, DaiMon, but I find it difficult to
imagine a situation wherein such accommodation would
ever be required."
"I understand your reservation, Captain."
DaiMon Thoth smiled once more. "Our program is an
exchange of resources between the Ferengi Alliance
and the Federation," he slurred through his teeth.
"We have a passenger list of nearly sixty Federation
and Ferengi school children. We were on our way to
the Ferengenar Financial Museum when -- complications
arose and we were forced to land our ship on the
southern continent of Ony'am."
"What sort of complications?" Riker strode
forward authoritatively and Picard afforded him a
position at his side.
"My first officer, Commander Riker," the
Captain nodded in Will's direction.
"Commander," Thoth might have frowned, but the
gesture was so fleeting and so minimal that Riker
found himself uncertain it had ever been there. "Two
thirds of the children are Verisa. I am sure you are
aware that Verisa law permits travel through space
only within a stasis unit. We have -- more than an
adequate supply on board, but there was a malfunction
and several of the units opened prematurely. The
children are fine," Thoth threw a quick glance at his
second in command, "however, there are nearly forty
of them -- and only two of us." He ducked his head
apologetically.
"Are you saying that you are unable to place
the children back within their stasis units?" Picard
shook his head.
Thoth's second in command, an even shorter
Ferengi apparently called Nuk, chose that particular
moment to duck within the view-frame of the screen.
He scowled deeply. "The children are -- unruly," he
whined. "We have attempted to explain the situation
to them, but we do not speak their language and there
are no universal translators which have the capacity
to enunciate their method of communication."
Picard sighed -- odd though it may have seemed,
thus far everything the Ferengi claimed was indeed
plausible. The Verisa were a telepathic species.
They communicated via a combination of gesture and
mental imagery, making their language virtually
indecipherable by artificial technology. He frowned.
"What about their teachers? Surely they must
have achieved some form of communication with you
prior to your departure. Why not bring them out of
stasis and have them place the children back in their
units?" Picard tipped his head suspiciously.
DaiMon Thoth pushed his junior officer aside.
"I'm afraid, Captain, that we are the only chaperone
on this voyage."
That was even less believable. With a telling
look at his first officer, Picard glanced momentarily
downward and exhaled. It was Riker's queue to speak
while his Captain considered for a moment, and Will
didn't miss a beat. "Have you attempted to contact
either of the colonies on Ony'am? Perhaps they might
be able to send assistance..." he pinned the Ferengi
with a sharp look.
"We have tried that." Nuk stepped around Thoth
another time, much to the DaiMon distaste. "There
are no colonists on Ony'am who can communicate with
the Verisa."
"Captain." Shoving impatiently at the other
Ferengi, Thoth recaptured the viewscreen. "Our hail
was meant for a Federation vessel. If there is
someone in your crew who may be able to communicate
with the Verisa, we would be grateful for your
assistance in continuing our journey." He paused
dramatically and then added, "for the children."
"Of course," Picard muttered dryly. "We will
consider your situation, DaiMon." He finally
answered, "and, if you have no objection, we will
also attempt to contact the Danarian Academy and
apprise them of your status." At this, he raised an
eyebrow but the Ferengi stood unflinching in the
viewscreen.
"By all means, Captain. You have our
gratitude. We will be -- in your debt." He smiled
ferally, which was all he was able to do, considering
the nature of his dental structure. Picard nodded
and then tilted his head backward, a signal to the
tactical officer for the cessation of communications.
As ordered, the viewscreen went blank.
Turning where he stood, Picard looked over at
Troi. "Counselor," he mused, "I don't suppose-"
"Yes, sir." Deanna sighed. "I am capable of
communicating with the Verisa. I've done so on
numerous occasions, as has my mother..."
"Your mother is a Federation Ambassador. I'd
rather not bring her into this unless it were
absolutely necessary. What you are telling me is
that, were we to decide upon it, you would be able to
speak with the children?"
"I would sir," Troi repeated.
Picard turned toward Will. "Thoughts, Number
One?"
Riker frowned. "Well I certainly don't trust
DaiMon Thoth, if that's what you're asking. I think
he's hiding something, but for all I know, it could
just be that he's overcharging the school for his
services."
"Unfortunately," Deanna cut in, "the Ferengi
are one of only a few races which Betazoids are
unable to read. I would tend to concur with
Commander Riker, but I can't offer any empathic
assessment to back up that feeling."
"Going with your gut on this one, Counselor?"
Riker teased.
"I'm afraid so," she smirked.
"Very well," Picard straightened his uniform
jacket and fixed his gaze on the tactical officer at
ops. "Lieutenant Quan -- how long would it take us
to reach Ony'am at warp six?"
A response came without hesitation. "Thirteen
hours, sir, give or take."
"Indeed." The Captain paused for a brief
moment before nodding to himself. "Please contact
the Danarian Academy and verify as much of the
DaiMon's story as you can."
"Aye sir." Quan returned to his console.
"Commander," Picard threw Riker a meaningful
glance. "Assemble the senior staff in the
observation lounge in five minutes."
"Yes sir." Will inclined his head, watching as
Picard was the first to depart for the meeting. With
a quick page relaying the Captain's instructions as
ordered, Riker turned toward Troi and noticed her
slight frown. She was sensing something, but the
expression in her eyes was a distant one.
Riker came up beside her. "What is it?" He
asked so that only she could hear.
"I'm not sure," she sighed. "I'm fairly
certain that there were children on board that
vessel. But it was odd..."
"What was?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "I think I just
need to think about it for a little while." With
that she grew quiet and the two of them walked in
companionable silence toward the observation lounge.
--o--
--------
Chapter 56
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.
When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember
this...
You haven't."
--------
Glancing from Geordi LaForge, past Beverly
Crusher and Data, across the table toward Counselor
Troi and then Commander Riker, Picard folded his
hands before him.
Riker was the first to speak. "Lieutenant Quan
reports that the Danarian Academy was able to verify
at least a part of DaiMon Thoth's story. His ship
was carrying fifty-seven primary school students on
an excursion to the Ferengenar Financial Museum."
"What fun," Crusher quipped dryly.
"Be that as it may," the Captain frowned,
"does anyone else find it odd that their ship would
land in order to solve such a simple issue? They
might just as easily have requested assistance from
orbit."
"Agreed." LaForge sat forward. "What if
there's more to the story. Where were the children,
anyway?"
"I sensed that there were definitely young
minds on board." Troi paused thoughtfully. "But
there was something strange about them."
"Strange?" Picard inclined his head. "In what
way?"
"I wasn't sure at first," she glanced at Riker
and then back to her Captain. "Now that I've thought
about it some more, I tend to believe that what I was
feeling was a sense of -- anticipation -- not
rowdiness as the Thoth suggested. It was as though
they were waiting for something to happen. Or
someone, perhaps. I can't be sure." Deanna exhaled
a frustrated breath.
"Ony'am is over thirteen hours away at warp
six," Riker interjected, looking over at her. "Even
sensing as much as you did is going to be helpful."
Troi felt Will's hand when it covered hers
beneath the table and she smiled wanly. "At this
point, Captain, I have to recommend that we do
investigate further." Her pointed glance reached
Picard. "If there are children from the Danarian
Academy on board that vessel then they are certainly
innocent, regardless of their chaperone's ulterior
motivation. And perhaps they simply are on a field-
trip." She shrugged.
"Deanna's right." Doctor Crusher chimed in.
"If the Academy says they're legit, we should do what
we can to help and send them on their way."
Data tipped his head. "It is possible that our
inherent mistrust is simply based upon previous
negative experiences with the Ferengi. However," he
seemed thoughtful. "It would not be correct for us
to assume that all Ferengi will behave in the same
manner."
Geordi smirked and Crusher averted her amused
expression. Observing the otherwise agreeable looks
of his officers, Picard nodded slowly. "Very well.
We'll set a course for Ony'am." He glanced at Troi.
"Counselor, you and two security officers will beam
to the surface and assist with the children."
Deanna nodded her assent. "I'll need to brush
up a little on my sign language before then," she
smiled. "It's been over five years since the last
time I spoke with any of the Verisa."
"You should have just under fourteen hours in
which to reorient yourself." Picard returned her
smile. Rising from his chair, he called the meeting
to a close and followed Geordi and Data through the
Conference room door. When they had gone, Doctor
Crusher leaned forward.
"So," she traded a glance between Riker and
Troi. "How are you two holding up?"
Deanna and Will seemed to exhale
simultaneously, but it was Riker who finally smiled.
Rather than question how it was that Beverly even
knew to ask, he shrugged noncommittally. "Okay, I
guess. All things considered."
"Do you think that you're up for this?"
Crusher's scrutiny fell on Troi, who glanced down at
a computer terminal in the table in front of her.
When she hadn't said anything for several
seconds, Riker tipped an amused glance in the
Counselor's direction. "I think what Beverly's
asking, is whether or not you're going to give in to
your impulse to jump me right now." He winked at
Doctor Crusher.
Deanna tapped the tiny computer screen she was
looking at, scrolling through a data page on Verisa
linguistics. "I'm fine," she shrugged, managing a
neutral expression.
"She's fine." Riker repeated, still smiling at
Beverly. He took Troi's other hand under the table
and ran his index finger along the inset of her palm.
Without a word, Deanna lifted her head and threw him
a scathing look. She yanked her hand from his and
set it on top of the table while her attention
returned to the information screen.
"Deanna," Doctor Crusher sighed
sympathetically. "I've been doing some reading up on
the secondary ceremony you mentioned. Please forgive
me for prying into such a personal subject. I only
did it because I care about you both. I know that
this isn't the most romantic idea, or the way you and
Will had things planned, but your wedding has just
been postponed for at least another two days." Her
attention shifted from Troi toward Riker and then
back again. "The two of you will ultimately have to
complete the bond together on your wedding night, but
maybe you should go and see your mother before you
leave for Ony'am. At least get her to help you
stabilize the way you're both feeling. According to
what I was able to read, if you go through the first
part of the ritual with another telepath, it would
buy you at least a few more days before you had to
complete the link or let it go..."
Beverly's candor was tempered by such a genuine
sense of caring that Troi finally gave up. Lifting
her head from the words on her screen, she offered
each of her companions a resigned half-smile. "I'm
sorry," she sighed. "I guess I just -- wasn't
expecting things to be this way, so quickly." Her
eyes found Will's.
"Neither of us were," he confirmed, leaning
over to brush his lips against the top of her head.
"But I think that Beverly might be right." He
regarded her seriously.
"She is right." Deanna nodded. "I know that.
Well, my head does at least," she frowned.
"I'll tell you what?" Riker lifted his hand to
her face. "We're going to be in sector 004 anyway
when we finish up with this mission," his blue eyes
sparkled as he spoke. "Why don't we get married on
Betazed? We could have the ceremony at dusk, on the
edge of the Janaran sea, just the way you described
it to me that night," he sucked in a breath. The
motion played counterpoint to the racing of his heart
when her expression filled with uncensored joy.
"Do you mean that?" Her eyes -- black as
midnight -- were large enough to drown inside.
The answer to her question was obviously
rhetorical. She had recognized from the moment he
spoke that his intention was sincere. Still, there
were times when she needed to hear him say the words,
even so.
"You know that I do," he exhaled. "I know how
much this means to you, Deanna. You've already been
willing to sacrifice so many of your hopes," he
smiled down at her. "I don't want you to do that. I
want our wedding to be as beautiful as the night you
described it to me; when we were both too young to
know any better."
On the other side of the table, Beverly Crusher
placed her hand against her lips, watching through
empathetic eyes as two of her dearest friends forgot
that she was even in the room. She cleared her
throat softly, reminding them of the fact.
"What do you say, Sparks?" Riker drew his
thumb across the top of Troi's hand until her
expression transformed into a brilliant smile.
"Yes," she laughed musically and threw her
arms around his neck.
"Sparks?" Crusher threw Riker an amused look
of her own.
As though he hadn't been aware of what he'd
said, Will released Deanna back into her chair and a
slow smile spread across his lips. Troi smirked at
him.
"You did just call me Sparks, didn't you?"
He shrugged apologetically, but the smile on
his face remained.
"You haven't called me that since we were
twenty-three years old!" Deanna shook her head,
taking her lip between her teeth, thoughtfully.
"All right, spill." Doctor Crusher placed her
elbows on the table and her head in the cradle of her
hands. She regarded both of her friends across the
table.
Watching her settle in for a story, Riker
laughed. "Should we tell her?" he glanced at Troi.
"It's kind of silly." Deanna shrugged, leaving it
entirely up to him. "Okay, well, it was a nickname I
gave Deanna even before we were ever together. She
hated it, at first."
"I wanted nothing to do with you, at first."
Troi smiled.
"Right." He waggled his eyebrows at the memory
and Deanna slapped his arm, playfully. Turning from
her, Riker smiled at Crusher. "Anyway! The first
time we ever kissed-"
"You kissed me," Deanna corrected, "I did not
kiss you."
"That's not how I remember it." Riker smirked
and Beverly laughed at the way Troi's eyes narrowed
dangerously. "You definitely kissed me back," He
leveled his gaze on the Counselor, matching the
expression she threw him. Their eyes held as he
continued. "The first time we ever kissed," he
repeated deliberately, "there was this --
electricity. It was like..."
"Sparks?" Beverly offered helpfully, chuckling
when Troi muttered something under her breath.
"Exactly." Riker grinned. "It felt like we
were both plugged in to *something*."
"Well, one of us was, in any event." Troi
wrinkled her nose.
"That was when I knew." Will nodded to himself
and Beverly lifted her head from her hands.
"Knew what?" she asked.
"That there was something different about
Deanna," he sighed thoughtfully. "I'd never felt
anything like that before in my life."
"Now, this part, I hadn't heard." Troi leaned
forward on the table and regarded Will expectantly.
"You felt it too," he argued, "I could tell by
the expression on your face." She smiled coyly at
him, but said nothing.
"Well, I think it's adorable." Beverly smiled.
"Why haven't I ever heard it before?"
Both Riker and Troi dropped their gazes and
Crusher suddenly felt as though she shouldn't have
asked the question. The deed was done, however. She
sat back in her chair and waited.
"The night before I left Betazed was the last
night I ever called her that." Riker frowned and
Deanna looked up, watching while he spoke. "We were
going to be married a few months later, which you
probably heard about," he glanced at Beverly, "but
things -- fell through -- we never actually saw each
other again until we were stationed on board the
Enterprise and, it just didn't seem right anymore."
"Until a minute ago." Beverly maintained.
Riker shrugged. "I wasn't even thinking about
it. It just -- came out."
"Then maybe it's right again." Troi's softly
spoken statement caused Will to look in her
direction.
"You hated it when I called you that," he threw
her a rueful smile but she shook her head.
"You live to tease me, Will Riker," Deanna
exhaled a short laugh. "I knew that if you thought I
didn't like it, you would use the name more often.
So I pretended I hated it." She wrinkled her nose.
"You mean to say that all that time!" he
opened his mouth in mock-indignation and Troi grinned
at the imposition.
"I'm afraid so," her voice was solemn.
"Oh, God, this is better than the holonovel I
was watching." Doctor Crusher laughed.
"Yes," Deanna narrowed her eyes at her friend,
"and if you breathe even a word of it outside this
room, you'll pay dearly."
"Hey, I promise." Crusher lifted her hand.
"Not a word. I'm really flattered that you trusted
me enough to tell me all of this," she beamed at both
of them.
Troi suddenly shut her eyes and cringed.
"Deanna?" Beverly rose from her chair as the
Counselor lifted one hand, belaying her concern.
"It's all right," she muttered. "It's only my
mother," Troi opened her eyes. "She has a nasty
habit of telepathically yelling my name across the
alpha quadrant."
Riker hid his amused look behind his hand and
Crusher frowned curiously. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine." Deanna glanced at Will. "I
think we should go and see her as soon as possible,
though. She's aware that something's up, and I can't
keep her out of the loop for much longer."
With a sympathetic smile, Riker pushed his
chair backward and pulled the Counselor to her feet.
When it was clear that he had something to say which
was meant only for Deanna, Crusher cleared her throat
softly and wished them both luck, bowing out of the
observation lounge with decorum. The door slid shut
behind her and Deanna exhaled.
"We should go, I suppose," her voice was
resigned.
"Yeah, better not keep Lwaxana waiting," he
grinned when she rolled her eyes. Taking her arm, he
turned them both toward the doorway. "You really
didn't hate it?" His voice was light and she threw
him an amused glance.
"No," she admitted. "I actually sort of loved
it. It made me feel special."
"You are special." Riker backed her against
the wall until she was trapped between his body and
the smooth wooden panel behind her. "You know,
everyone I love has a nickname." He brought his face
within inches of hers, until the warmth of her gaze
reached a simmering boil. Without waiting for a
response, his mouth descended on hers; whispering her
name before the heat of her tongue collided with his.
A firestorm of emotion convulsed through their
bodies, rippling and magnified through the unstable
link they shared. Deanna grasped the back of his
neck, whimpering softly while the world melted in and
out of existence all around them.
"I'm sorry," she barely heard him utter the
words as their mouths separated with an audible
sound. Clutching and releasing the muscle of his
shoulder, Troi waited for the moment of insanity to
pass; for control to resurface; for her thoughts to
right themselves. With the damp heat of his breath
on her neck, she found herself rhythmically drawn to
him and she moaned in frustration -- pushing
halfheartedly at his chest with her other hand.
"We have to go," the conviction in her voice
sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.
"Sparks?" she heard him breathe against her
skin, the nearness of his body still holding her
captive.
"Mm?" Troi shut her eyes and thought of
nothing but the air she took into her lungs. Lucid
thought had begun to return.
He didn't answer immediately, but when the
words finally came, they filled her with the full
force of his uncensored emotion. "I love you so damn
much."
Her heart flipped against the inside of her
chest; the exercise she'd started fell away with the
remainder of her self-control and Deanna wrapped her
arms around his neck, sealing their mouths with
primal desperation.
She was dimly aware of his hands when he lifted
her high against the wall; the rush of cool air on
her skin as the uniform she wore was peeled expertly
from her body and the shivering pleasure in his
spirit at the touch of her soul.
Bathed in starlight from the observation
portal, Will took her with untamed abandon. Troi
arched against him, biting back on every cry which
threatened to escape her lips. Long raven curls
tumbled over her shoulders; spilling onto his face
with every thrust of his body inside of her. As the
miracle of unimaginable pleasure convulsed between
them, she drew his head toward her breast and held on
for blessed existence; chanting a word which forced
the coupling of their bodies beyond the limits of
sanity. And the word was ...
Imzadi.
--o--
--------
Chapter 57
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Greatness lies not in where we stand,
but in which direction we are moving."
--------
:::You might as well come inside, little one.
Don't worry about ringing the chime.:::
Lwaxana Troi smiled as the door to her VIP
suite slid open, revealing two Starfleet officers who
looked as guilty as a couple of teenagers. Deanna's
hair was slightly damp -- no doubt from a hasty
shower -- and Will Riker looked unusually immaculate.
:::Well, well, I'm not even going to ask what
you two have been up to.::: The older Troi allowed a
slight smirk to touch the corners of her lips.
:::How considerate of you.::: Deanna quipped
nonverbally, "Hello, mother," she voiced cheerfully
at the same time.
"Oh, my darling." The Ambassador rose
gracefully to her feet, extending her arms and
folding her daughter into a close embrace. "You're
positively glowing."
Troi narrowed her eyes at the older woman.
"Thank you." Turning toward Will, she pulled him
forward by their joined hands. "Will and I have come
to ask a favor of you."
"Really?" Lwaxana smiled innocently.
"Our wedding has been postponed for a while."
The Counselor let her words hang in the air for a few
moments, taking more satisfaction than she should
have at the surprise in her mother's expression.
"Nonsense!" The Troi matriarch huffed. "Let
me speak with Jean-Luc, there's no way I'm allowing
him to-"
"Mother." Deanna interrupted, releasing Will's
hand and touching the Ambassador's arm. "It's not
indefinitely, it's only for a few days. We have a
stop to make on Ony'am in less than ten hours and a
short assignment there. We were hoping that
afterwards, we could be married on Betazed."
"On Betazed?" Lwaxana's eyes lit up. "Oh,
that's *wonderful* news, just *wonderful*!! I know
just the place. We can have the entire thing
arranged in less than-"
"Mrs. Troi," Riker grinned when he finally
captured the older woman's attention. "Actually,
Deanna and I already have a place in mind. It's not
exactly palatial," he glanced affectionately at his
fiance, "but I don't think you'll find a more
beautiful location."
The Ambassador looked from Will to her daughter
and back again. Her suspicious frown transformed
when Deanna offered her a glimpse of the imagery she
had been searching for. "The Janaran Sea?"
"Yes," Troi beamed. "It will be outdoors, at
dusk. We'd like for you to make the arrangements."
With a short sob, Lwaxana Troi hugged her
daughter once more. "Of course I will darling. Of
course I will. We'll set the beach alight with
candles. We can have the guests in behind, and you
can get married at the water's edge. Oh, how utterly
romantic!" Pressing her hands together, the Troi
matriarch began to pace. Will and Deanna exchanged
equally amused glances until it was decided that one
of the two of them needed to interrupt her.
"There's something else we're going to need
your help with right now, though, mother." Lwaxana
turned where she stood. "We'd like for you to assist
with the first part of the joining ceremony."
"I see." The Ambassador's tone grew serious.
"I suppose this means that you or William are going
to beam down on that ridiculous mission in a few
hours."
Deanna nodded. "I am. And I need to be able
to rely on my senses; stay focussed. Mother, you
know as well as I do that if you don't help us with
this, there's no way for Will or I to perform our
duty assignments until we're married."
"I'm aware of that, dear." Lwaxana sighed.
"Well, I suppose it's important, anyway," she met her
daughter's gaze. "All right," she resigned. "But
we're going through the full ceremony on your wedding
day, even so." Troi smiled brightly. "And both you
and William will have to complete this once we start
it. If you're not married within the week, there
could be irreparable damage to your link -- not to
mention your state of mind. Are you sure you want to
go through with this?"
"We are, Mrs. Troi." Riker smiled first at the
Ambassador and then at Deanna.
"Very well. Come here then, both of you." She
walked slowly toward the sitting area of her suite
and pulled three chairs together. "Sit down." With
the three of them in a semi-circular arrangement, the
older Troi smiled wryly. "You're going to laugh when
you realize how simple this is. The good part, of
course, happens later -- in private," she winked at
Deanna. "Now you're going to see how much I really
love ceremony," she wrinkled her nose distastefully.
"Oh, I'll play this up at your wedding, but for time
being, please give me your hands. Physical contact
seems to enhance the strength of the connection."
Deanna smiled at Will's obvious amusement.
They held out their hands and the Ambassador placed
them together, covering them with her own. "The
joining of a couple in the spiritual union of Imzadi
is a sacred one." Affording them each a pointed
look, Lwaxana dropped her gaze. "We do not enter into
such a union lightly, nor heavy of heart. Have you
both the commitment to pledge your spirits to be
bonded; for a timeless eternity?" Her eyes fell on
Riker first and then her daughter. "Think before you
answer, my dears," she warned, "this is a question
for which you may never amend your response."
Riker's eyes locked with Troi's and he felt her
hand trembling in his grasp. He could almost sense
the butterflies in her stomach, but oddly enough he
felt perfectly calm. There wasn't a doubt in his
mind and he marveled at the absence of any worry in
his heart. This was the way it was supposed to be;
the way it had never been before. Now, it was right.
He smiled, and it was clear from Lwaxana Troi's
admiring expression that she also had sensed his
resolution. Deanna's sense of things came a little
less quickly, no doubt because her own emotions were
so wrapped up in the moment.
Sucking in a deep breath of air, Will let it
out slowly. "I am," he finally spoke. The
answering light in Deanna's eyes provided more warmth
to his soul that he had ever before known was
possible.
"And you, Deanna?" Lwaxana turned her gaze on
Troi.
She smiled shyly at Will; he could feel her
hand in his and he squeezed it gently. "I am," she
whispered.
"Then clear your thoughts of all but your sense
of each other." The older Troi nodded at each of
them in turn. "Release the walls you've imagined.
Allow your feelings to flow freely through your
spirits," the Ambassador shut her eyes and seemed to
concentrate for a moment.
Riker was feeling light headed. The room was
real, and yet it seemed almost transparent. Shadows
moved in intricate patterns across his thoughts and
he brushed them aside, searching for something beyond
their reach. He could feel himself floating. Only
the knowledge that his feet were on the floor near
his chair compelled him to question the sensation.
There were shapes and abstract images which he
recognized somehow as emotions. He felt them, but
more profoundly, he knew them. And then there was
light. Everywhere light. The warmth and the glow of
it swallowed him whole. He gasped in the same moment
he heard Deanna do the same -- when he could feel her
presence so strongly. She was all around him.
Inside of him. Beyond him, in a place he hadn't even
known might exist.
Her thoughts filled his mind; strange and
foreign at first; they caused him to pull backward.
His impulse was to fight the intrusion, but the more
of her he felt, the more his spirit remembered. She
was with him; he could sense her; he could touch her;
he could feel her in his soul. Her thoughts and his
combined and for a moment, he was unsure which was
which. And then he felt the difference; a feathery
touch of individuality that belonged only to her.
They were together, but they were separate as well.
Untold minutes later when the light began to
dim, the room shimmered back into focus, and Riker
suddenly realized his eyes had been open the entire
time. He glanced first at Lwaxana Troi who sat
staring at her hands in her lap. When had they
dropped their hands? She looked exhausted, but
otherwise none the worse for wear.
Deanna was happy. No, that was wrong, she was
filled with joy. Riker lifted his gaze slowly from
the Ambassador to the woman sitting just behind her.
His mouth fell part of the way open and he stared at
the Counselor for nearly a minute without speaking.
He could sense her emotions as powerfully as though
they were his own. If he shut his eyes and
concentrated, he could even feel the tickle of her
hair across her forehead. Will exhaled a short
laugh.
"Wow," he breathed, staring down at her in awe.
Deanna smiled at him and reached out with her hand.
He took it without consideration, amazed by the
comparatively small size of her fingers in his grasp.
But it was even more than that. Her touch was
surrounded by an energy that seemed to flow from
their hands along their arms; shivering throughout
every corner of their bodies. It was as though he
could touch her aura; feel its warmth engulf them
both from the simplest physical contact. Was it like
that for her as well? Yes. He suddenly knew the
answer to his question without any shadow of a doubt.
Riker ran his fingers over the inset of her palm,
finally focussing on her eyes. "Wow," he repeated.
Her eyes reflected the wonder he'd been feeling
and he saw her swallow. Their entire exchange
couldn't have taken more than three minutes, but it
was to be the most memorable three minutes of Will's
entire lifetime. He knew the power of her feeling
for him, and it was both miraculous and terrifying.
Was it possible that any one person could feel so
much in an instant? Or were they sharing this
together?
"You've taken the first step." Ambassador
Troi's quiet statement hung in the silence of the
suite and Riker reluctantly released the Counselor's
hand. "What happens next will either bond your souls
together, or bring you more torment than you could
possibly imagine." The older woman's black eyes
regarded them both. "Allow yourselves to feel those
things which frighten you; to share those things
which seem impossible." She sighed softly and Deanna
took her hand, squeezing it.
"Thank you, mother," she whispered out loud,
laying her head against the older woman's shoulder.
Lwaxana patted her daughter's hand.
"I've been privileged to perform this ceremony
twice before in my lifetime," Lwaxana looked over at
Will, her voice unusually quiet. "I've never felt
anything so strong. You were meant for this. And I
will never question that again."
Lifting her head from her mother's arm, Deanna
found Will's crystal blue gaze focussed intently on
her. They had been privy to an apology from a woman
whose word was law. Such moments were not to be taken
lightly.
"Mrs. Troi, what I feel for your daughter is
more than I could ever articulate." Riker's eyes
remained fixed on Deanna. "I don't know how, or why
these things happen the way they do, but I do know
that I feel whole right now, in a way that I've never
known." His quiet admission caused the Ambassador to
smile warmly at him.
"I know you do, William. And I know that
whatever happens from this day forward, your decision
today -- was right. Ever since she was born, I've
hoped that Deanna would find someone who could love
her the way her father loved me." Lwaxana hung her
head. "For a long time, that meant that no one was
good enough for her in my eyes," she afforded the
Commander a wry smile. "not even you. I imagined
that if I had her genetically bonded to the Miller
boy, it might make things easier. But I can see now
that her spirit was stronger than that. And so is
yours. There is meaning in everything." Lwaxana
raised a tear-filled gaze, "I want you both to be
happy."
"We will, mother," Troi took her mother's
hand, but to the Counselor's moderate surprise, the
Ambassador turned and hugged Will.
"Take care of her," she whispered into his
ear.
"I will," he whispered back. "with my life."
"Well, then," The older Troi sighed loudly and
brushed at the tears in her eyes. Pressing down on
her knees with both hands, she rose from her chair
and moved toward the doorway, tapping it open. "I
have a wedding to plan, and you both have your work
to do, I'm sure," her eyes sparkled while she spoke.
Troi stood and so did Riker. "Go along now, there's
no way this will happen in two or three days if
you're here to distract me," she gestured out the
doorway. Deanna traded a look with Will, but he was
equally perplexed, and so the two of them made their
way toward the exit. Troi bent to kiss her mother
and Lwaxana smiled gently.
"The next twenty-four hours are going to be
busy, I'll see you in a day or so?" Deanna smiled at
her mother's brusque nod.
"Of course you will darling. Now take care of
yourselves."
"Yes ma'am." Riker grinned. He was still
grinning when the door to the Ambassador's suite slid
shut in front of he and the Counselor, and they
turned toward each other. "That was definitely
odd." Will cleared his throat.
"You'll find she gets that way whenever she's
emotional. It's just the way she copes with it."
Deanna shrugged and linked her arm with his.
"Besides, you have to know that she's going to be
planning every tiny detail for the next two days..."
"Well," he smiled, "I don't mind if you don't."
"I suppose not," Deanna wrinkled her nose.
"She's been dreaming about this her whole life, I
could never take that away from her."
"And you haven't been dreaming about it?" Riker
threw her an amused glance.
"I've been dreaming about having the wedding,"
she smiled coyly, "not planning it."
"Well said." Riker laughed. Then he sighed
deeply. They had walked half-way down the corridor
and the turbo-lift loomed ahead. "I guess you have a
lot of research to do before we get to Ony'am."
Troi halted their progress in front of the lift
and turned where she stood. Extracting her hand
from his, she placed both her arms around his neck
and tipped forward, kissing him deeply.
"I can't begin to tell you how amazing it is
when you do that." His smile grazed her lips.
"I know," she whispered. "And the best part
is, we can finally stop when we have to," she giggled
as his eyes devoured her.
"If I had known it was going to be this way,
I'd have married you when I was five." Riker lifted
his eyebrows and she fell against him, placing the
side of her head on his chest.
"That would have been very odd." she mumbled.
Will closed his arms around her body. "And we're not
married yet."
"You'd better get going," he whispered, "before
I forget that I have willpower again."
Lifting herself reluctantly from his embrace,
Deanna beamed at him. "Three days," she took her lip
between her teeth and bit down on it, backing toward
the lift as she did.
"Three hundred years," Will groaned, forcing
him traitorous body not to follow her step inside the
small enclosure.
"Three days, Imzadi," she repeated. "and not a
nanosecond longer."
"Three days." Riker grinned at the sudden
warmth which filled him. He watched the lift-door
slide shut in front of her and considered a
particularly lascivious thought. He could feel the
precise instant when she responded to the touch of
his mind, and he smiled -- until his knees nearly
buckled from the force of her comeback.
"She wasn't kidding," he whispered, clutching
the wall for support. It occurred to him in passing
that he could likely retaliate in kind, now that they
were linked this way. He thought about it for only a
moment... and conceded defeat instead.
Through the span of several decks, Riker felt
Deanna's mental laughter as it tickled the edge of
his consciousness. And was that image ...
A chicken?
--o--
--------
Chapter 58
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The soul is dyed the color of its thoughts."
--------
Standing on the transporter pad, flanked by two
of the tallest security officers Riker had ever seen,
Deanna Troi looked paradoxically tiny. Either of
the two men easily topped Will's own considerable
height by nearly half a head, and while the picture
was almost absurd, the implication made him feel
somewhat better about sending her down to Ony'am
alone.
"I think the Captain's expecting a crew of
Nausicaans down there, rather than a couple of
Ferengi." He grinned at each of the two lieutenants,
and they returned his gesture. "Take good care of
our Counselor."
"Yes sir," the security officer smiled.
"She's the only one we've got -- for at least
as long as it would take to get a new one in from
Fleet Headquarters." Riker teased.
Troi didn't even bother to respond, she glared
at him instead. "Energize." The last image she saw
as the transporters beam engulfed her was a decidedly
x-rated projection from Will.
*
"Where are they?"
DaiMon Thoth paced back and forth before a
communication console. The Federation ship was to
have sent a translator nearly half a standard hour
ago, but as yet, no one had arrived.
"They are transporting now, DaiMon." First
officer Nuk scrambled forward to meet the impending
arrival. Three bodies materialized, two fairly
enormous federation security officers and what
appeared to be -- a Betazoid female. Thoth smiled
toothily.
"Greetings, Commander Troi," he offered her a
respectful nod, then turned toward the open maw of
his first officer. "Please, forgive Nuk. We were --
not aware that you were female. On Ferengenar, there
is still a great deal of 'gender distinction'."
"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, DaiMon, the
Federation permits no such 'distinction'." Troi
afforded Thoth her most practiced and diplomatic
smile, nodding to her security escort that they
should fall in as the small entourage moved through
the corridor of the DuMar.
"Yes," he nodded vigorously, his hunched back
swaying in mid-stride. Nuk scrambled up behind them,
equally deferential.
"May I assume," the smaller Ferengi inquired,
"since you are Betazoid, that your -- telepathy --
allows you to communicate with the Verisa?"
Deanna threw him a sidelong glance while she
walked. "In a manner of speaking, yes." Her first
impulse had been to correct the assessment, as she
would have corrected anyone who assumed she was fully
telepathic. But even though she was unable to sense
the current state of emotion in her hosts, there was
something about dealing with the Ferengi in general
that she would forever mistrust.
"Where are the children?" Her head lifted as
they passed the latest in a long line of open doors
leading to empty rooms. "I can sense their presence,
but it's cloistered. Have you managed to gather them
all in one room?"
"We have -- made arrangements for their well
being, yes." Thoth inclined his bulbous head and
spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "If you
would communicate with them," he asked.
"Ask them to return to their stasis units," Nuk
chimed in.
"We could be on our way."
After what seemed an interminable distance for
such a small ship, they stopped in front of a sealed
doorway which Troi was certain lead to the Verisa
children. Nuk began inputting an access code and
Deanna regarded both Ferengi suspiciously.
"Why are your stasis units at the back of your
ship? Isn't it dangerous to keep biological support
equipment so close to the nacelles?"
Nuk opened his mouth to respond, but Thoth
belayed him with a faster tongue. "The stasis units
are not here. We were forced to relocate the
children when the units malfunctioned." The doorway
Nuk had authorized was open now, and Troi peered past
him, into the open space.
There were children in the room, well over
thirty of them, and they were Verisa, just as the
Ferengi claimed. Deanna cast her senses forth and
found that the general attitude of the youngsters was
content. Many of them played with toys, while others
huddled in small groups, gesturing silently.
Satisfied that none of the children were scared
or upset, she turned around. "How is it that you
were able to bring them in here, but not back into
their stasis units?"
Nuk and Thoth exchanged a glance and something
passed between them. With an annoyed shrug, the
DaiMon suddenly shoved backward on one of the
enormous security guards while he and his second in
command drew their disrupters simultaneously.
Without waiting for the stunned Enterprise officers
to respond, both Ferengi fired, effectively dropping
the two towering guards before they had even realized
there was an attack. Deanna fell back against the
wall, eyes wide.
"What are you doing?" she gasped.
"You ask too many questions, female," Nuk
trained his weapon on her at close range and ripped
the communications pin from her chest. Shoving her
backward into the room with the children, he tapped a
code into the wall and shut the entrance.
Stunned, but otherwise unharmed, Troi staggered
backward into the large enclosure. Her eyes drifted
over the heads of the Verisa school children -- none
of whom seemed aware that anything had transpired.
Balling her hand into a fist, Deanna slammed it
against the door, cursing in Betazin, Terran
Standard, and several other languages she was fairly
certain the children wouldn't know.
"Why me?" she tipped her head skyward,
exhaling a livid puff of air.
--o--
--------
Chapter 59
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The trials you encounter will introduce you to your
strengths."
--------
Counselor Troi's security escort was alive; she
was certain of it.
For whatever their reasons, the Ferengi had
only stunned the two larger men -- doubtless they
were now in some kind of brig, hold up behind an
energy field and cursing as loudly as she had been.
She exhaled ruefully. Time for self pity later. For
the moment, she had to figure out a way to escape,
and to get word to the Enterprise.
She scanned the doorway carefully. The
controls were obviously outside, and it seemed as
though this suite were meant to keep its occupants
from leaving.
One of the Verisa children succumbed to
curiosity and approached her, she felt a small and
tentative hand when it touched her arm.
"Hello," she turned, speaking out of habit
while she gestured to the small child; a boy who
couldn't have been more than six standard years old.
Verisa language was an intricate combination of sign
language and telepathy, a fact which made it
extremely challenging for Betazoids to learn and
fairly impossible for a non-telepathic species.
Using it now reminded her of every late night she
spent at the University, stubbornly refusing to give
in and accept less than an A in her linguistics
course.
In the end, however, her diligence paid off.
Starfleet had made use of her skills on more than one
occasion, and she was considered one of only a
handful of telepaths fluent in the language who were
not Verisa themselves. [[I'm Deanna Troi,]] she
smiled at the little boy. [[Can you tell me your
name?]]
[[Avrim]] he beamed proudly.
[[I'm pleased to meet you, Avrim,]] she glanced
around the room at several of the other children.
[[Can you tell me why you're here today?]]
[[It's a surprise]]
[[A surprise? What kind of surprise?]] Deanna
noted the short frown on Avrim's gamin face and she
lowered herself to his level, placing her hand on his
shoulder. [[You can tell me, you know. Your
teachers from the Danarian Academy sent me to help
you go on a field trip. Is that what the surprise
is?]]
Avrim signed something quickly and shook his
head. Troi caught the edge of his otherwise unspoken
response. He was thinking of toys and special sort
of candy that most Verisa children adored.
[[That sounds like fun]] Deanna smiled at him.
[[Where are you going to get all of that?]]
The image she sensed was definitely one of
DaiMon Thoth. A slight frown touched her lips. "How
the hell is that little troll promising these
children candy when he can't even communicate with
them?" she muttered under her breath, smiling at the
curious look of the youngster when he hadn't
understood her. [[Avrim]], she switched gears, [[Can
you tell me what you have to do so that DaiMon Thoth
will give you the candy?]]
The little boy's eyes brightened and he took
Deanna's hand, leading her toward the far end of the
room where a large group of the children had
congregated. There were five of them sitting cross-
legged around a large, glowing orb. Each of the
children had their eyes closed and they were
concentrating. They were doing something
telepathically, that much was absolutely clear.
Deanna glanced at Avrim and shook her head. [[What
are they doing?]] she asked.
The boy signed again and his hands moved so
quickly that Troi had to slow him down. [[Hide and
seek? Hiding?]] She knelt before him again.
[[Hiding what?]] Avrim frowned. [[Avrim, it's very
important that you tell me what you are hiding for
DaiMon Thoth.]] she offered him a serious look so
that he dropped his little shoulders, signing her
answer for her as he might have one of his teachers.
Deanna's eyes grew wide as the image he
projected coalesced inside her thoughts. "Oh, great
Gods," she whispered, gripping Avrim's hand in hers.
She stood carefully, glancing around the room while
the impact of the young boy's response sank in.
It certainly explained why the journey from the
small freighter's transporter room seemed far longer
than it should have been. It was far longer than it
should have been because they weren't actually inside
of a freighter, Ferengi or otherwise. They were
inside another ship all together.
They were standing in a Romulan Warbird.
--o--
--------
Chapter 60
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Your integrity is your destiny...it is the light
that guides your way."
--------
As the tumble of her thoughts came together,
Troi heard the telltale hiss of the doorway slide
aside and found herself staring at DaiMon Thoth. She
said nothing, dropping an impassive mask across her
face rather than giving in to the shock she had been
feeling.
"Commander Troi," he spoke with unusual
deference, circling the perimeter of the room with
his hands behind his back. One of those hands held
a large disrupter. "No doubt, you have -- spoken --
with the children by now?" he sneered.
Deanna regarded him mutely.
"They have proven most useful, so far." With a
feral smile, the Ferengi turned and faced her.
"Why are you doing this? The Federation and
the Ferengi Alliance have a shaky alliance at best,
have you any idea what you're jeopardizing by taking
a Starfleet away-team hostage?" she asked,
motionless in the center of the room. Avrim stood
beside her. He held a toy in his hand and seemed
uncaring of the 'adult' discussion.
"We are not a part of the Ferengi Alliance."
Thoth shrugged. "We are in business for ourselves."
"Where have I heard that before," Troi mumbled
under her breath, choosing to ignore the DaiMon's
leer.
"Females," he sneered. "You are always so
quick to pass moral judgment where there is profit to
be gained."
Deanna's eyes narrowed and she advanced on
Thoth until there was only a few feet of space
between them. "If you don't reconsider this
insanity, you're going to lose more than your
profit."
"Your defiance is most alluring, Commander."
The Ferengi's toothy smile widened. "Many of my
people do not find your species attractive, but I
could make an -- exception, once we have completed
our mission. You would be well rewarded."
Troi scowled deeply. She glanced from the
Ferengi toward the children and back again. Her
mind formed a silent resolution, but before she was
able to act, Avrim stepped out from behind her and
Thoth grabbed hold of the little boy. Leveling his
disruptor against the Verisa child's skull, the
DaiMon shook his head.
"I would not do that, if I were you,
Commander."
Troi froze where she stood. "Let him go."
Responding to the sudden shuffle and negative
emotion, Avrim began to cry. Silent teardrops fell
over his tiny cheeks and he began gesturing quickly.
[[It's going to be okay, Avrim.]] She signed
to the little boy. [[DaiMon Thoth is just playing a
game with you, he's going to let you go.]] Avrim
seemed to relax slightly, and Deanna lifted her gaze
toward Thoth.
"Let him go," she repeated slowly,"or I swear
to you, if it's the last thing I do, I'll rip your
ears out of your skull with my bare hands."
Though the smirk in his expression faltered
only briefly, Thoth released the child and let him
run off toward the opposite corner of the room.
Turning his weapon on Deanna, he gestured toward the
doorway.
"Consider that a gift," he snarled. "You are
Betazoid, Commander. Your people are a pathetic and
peaceful society. I doubt that you would harm me as
you claim. From now on, you will do as I say. You
will assist with our requirements." His eyes darted
toward the children in the back of the room. "Or I
will kill every child on this ship, starting with
that one."
He couldn't kill them. He needed their
telepathy for whatever deception he was planning. It
was obviously a bluff, and she had half a mind to
remind him of that fact; except that it would reveal
to him exactly how much she knew. At this point, he
could only guess at that. And even if he did know,
killing Avrim would certainly not halt his plans for
the other Verisa children. He might do it just to
get back at her, and she wasn't willing to risk that
much over an angry comeback.
"Do you agree?" The Ferengi advanced on her.
"Do I have a choice?"
The DaiMon smiled. "A wise decision,
Commander."
Oh yes, she was just bursting with wisdom in
this assignment. Starting with agreeing to beam down
here and cooperate with a freelance Ferengi charter.
Troi sighed, throwing a scathing backward glance at
Thoth when he shoved her forward through the doorway
into the corridor beyond.
"Where are we going?" she asked, sensing the
children's mood shift back to what it had been before
the DaiMon's intrusion.
"That is not your concern." The Ferengi
growled.
"Where are the other members of my away-team?"
she continued, nonplused. Thoth suddenly lost his
patience and cornered her against the bulkhead.
Holding the disruptor only inches away from her head,
he backhanded her across the face.
"You will speak only when spoken to, female!"
Troi's dark eyes seized on him with fury, but she
said nothing; standing rigidly beneath the barrel of
his weapon. His feral smirk transformed into a smile
and he drew the edge of the disruptor along the side
of her head. "You are not so repulsive, when you are
silent."
Deanna was 'silent' for the rest of their
journey through the corridor. Her mind spun with a
thousand scenarios of how best to contact her ship,
but if they were indeed within the belly of a
Warbird, there would be no way for the Enterprise's
sensors to penetrate its shields. She considered
her options while memorizing the path they had taken
from the children's room to what -- she was now
certain -- was the bridge of the vessel.
Stepping through a solid titanium doorway, Troi
found the illusion of a freighter seemed to vanish on
the edges of the portal. It was only when they'd
moved into the command center of the ship that her
progress froze and an iron vice descended over her
chest.
There were Romulans on board; a handful at
least; all sitting at their stations on the bridge.
Their faces turned forward as though hard to task,
she had to stop herself from gasping aloud.
Every one of them was dead.
--o--
--------
Chapter 61
RATED R for violence.
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"It is never too late to be what you might have
been."
--George Eliot
--------
"DaiMon!" The Ferengi called Nuk hurried
forward as Troi and her captor took their first steps
onto the bridge of the Warbird. "The Enterprise is
hailing us. They wish to know the status of our
effort with the children," he offered a pointed
glance at his superior. "And they wish to know why
their attempts to contact Commander Troi have been --
unsuccessful."
DaiMon Thoth reached into his vest pocked with
one hand and extracted a tiny Starfleet communicator
pin. Examining it for only a moment, he dropped it
onto a nearby console and gestured Deanna forward
with the barrel of his weapon.
"Commander," he nodded crudely at Troi. "It
would appear that you have a transmission to make."
When Deanna's expression betrayed an almost
imperceptible surprise, Thoth smiled toothily. "Only
remember that you hold the lives of those children in
your hands. Your ship will not be able to penetrate
the shields of this one in time to save them, or you,
if our -- secret -- is betrayed."
Deanna merely stared at her captor. She was
certain the look she gave him would have proclaimed
the depth of her disbelief, but it was an emotion she
was willing to share for the moment. "How long do
you believe you're going to be able to continue this
deception, DaiMon? My ship is not going to be
content to allow me to remain here indefinitely.
What do you suggest I tell them?"
"Tell them -- you are working with the
children, but they are afraid of further travel."
The Ferengi seemed to enjoy his own fabrication.
"Tell them, it will take two standard hours before
you will be able to return, and that they must not
interrupt your -- progress -- until the assignment is
completed."
"That flies in the face of protocol and it
defies logic." Troi shook her head. "My Captain
will not accept that."
Thoth narrowed angry eyes at her. "He will
accept whatever you ask him to accept, Commander. Or
the child you spoke with will die."
"The way these Romulan officers died?" Deanna
stole a glance at one of the nearby officers, frozen
in a macabre life-like pose at his station. "How are
you doing this?"
The moment she spoke, Deanna felt something
stir in the back of her consciousness. It was a
familiar stirring and she fought to remain impassive
as it stole over her. Someone on the bridge was a
telepath. The problem was that there appeared to be
only three living beings in present company,
including herself -- and there had never been a
recorded case of a Ferengi telepath in history.
Troi's gaze moved slowly over the Romulan crew
members at their stations. There was absolutely no
question in her mind that every one of them was dead.
Then what had she sensed? Whatever it had been
lasted only a fraction of an instant. At present,
she could sense nothing out of the ordinary. Her
gaze settled on Nuk and then on DaiMon Thoth.
She had to buy time.
*
"I want that ship *back* on screen, Ensign
Lyle!" Picard yanked on the hem of his uniform
jacket.
"I'm trying, sir," Lyle, tapped feverishly
into the con. "They're not responding."
"What the hell is going on?" Riker turned an
incredulous glance on his Captain, "are they blocking
our comm deliberately?"
"It would appear so, Number One." The
Captain's lips narrowed to a fine line. "Lieutenant
Quan, have their communications somehow been
disrupted?"
"No, sir." Quan frowned at the tactical
console. "They seem to be," his eyes snapped up.
"Sir, they're hailing us."
Picard and Riker exchanged glances. "On
screen," the Captain faced forward as DaiMon Thoth's
bulbous face occupied the entire width of the viewing
area.
"Our -- apologies, Captain." Thoth paused,
apparently contrite. "We experienced a malfunction
in our primary power array. It has been corrected."
"DaiMon," Riker moved forward. "We'd like to
speak to our officer. We've been trying to hail her,
but she hasn't responded. Do you have any idea why
that might be?" His cold blue gaze settled on the
Ferengi.
"She has been successfully communicating with
the children. I cannot tell you why your hails were
not answered. Perhaps you should ask her for
yourself?" Stepping aside, Thoth exposed a small
window of space through which Troi was clearly
visible. She stood directly behind the DaiMon; her
face as impassive as Riker had ever seen it. He
frowned.
"Commander," Picard addressed Deanna directly.
"Is your communicator not functioning?"
Troi's look shifted from Picard to Riker and
back again. "I received none of your hails sir," she
spoke quietly.
"What about Sommers and Taggut?" Will tipped
his head. "Weren't they supposed to be with you?"
"They are -- with the children." Thoth
interjected, and Riker threw him an annoyed glance.
"Is everything all right, Commander?" Will's
eyes caught and held Deanna's. She was looking right
at him, but there was something about her expression
that was odd. It occurred to him that if he had been
a telepath, he might have been able to get at least
some sense of what she was feeling through their
link. As it was, distanced by thousands of
kilometres, he was forced to hazard a guess. "Should
we send another crew member to assist?"
"No." Her quick response came unexpectedly.
"We're fine here. We should be finished with the
children in about two standard hours. It's a little
more complicated than we originally planned for,
that's all." Troi continued to stare at Riker until
he was absolutely certain something wasn't right.
But what was it?
"Very well, Commander." Picard inclined his
head, exhaling. "You will apprise us of the status
of your progress in two hours time."
"Yes sir," she nodded. "I don't anticipate any
further delays. DaiMon Tog has been very
accommodating." Her eyes lingered on Picard's for a
moment. "Troi out."
The screen went blank, and Picard turned to his
first officer. "Correct me if I'm wrong, number one,
but wasn't DaiMon Tog the Ferengi renegade who
kidnapped you and the Counselor some years ago?"
"Yes sir," Riker's hands fisted at his sides.
"Could that have been a slip of the tongue?"
The Captain pinned his junior with a serious look.
"No, sir." Will's jaw clenched and he exhaled
sharply.
"Damn." Picard swore under his breath. His
expression hardened and he spun around.
"Lieutenant, I want a scan of every inch of that
vessel. I want to know everything you can tell me
about it, and I don't want DaiMon Thoth and his crew
to know what you're doing. Is that understood?"
"Aye sir," Quan nodded, tapping an array of
commands into his console. "Initiating silent sensor
sweep now."
"Number one, my ready room!" The Captain
barked, turning on his heel where he suddenly paused.
"And summon the Ambassador to the bridge,
immediately."
*
"Block all further transmissions!" DaiMon
Thoth slammed a sticky fist against the
communications console, rounding on Troi. "Did you
think, Beta-zoid, that I would not know of your
deception?" Nuk leveled his disruptor on their
hostage while Thoth advanced on her, shoving the
empath roughly against a bulkhead.
Standing in rigid defiance of his physical
blow, Troi stared blankly at him.
"Go!" The lead Ferengi snarled at his
underling. "Get me the child. The one with the blue
overcoat," he smiled ferally at Troi. "The one she
calls Avrim."
Nuk scrambled from the room and Thoth pulled
his own weapon flush with Deanna's skull. Her eyes
had widened with the mention of Avrim's name. "You
would like to know the answers to your questions,"
he leered at her. "Why these Romulans are dead?" He
whispered against her hair.
"I never told you the name of that child,"
Troi spoke slowly.
For a moment, Thoth seemed to contemplate. But
then he simply smirked. "Perhaps you would like me
to show you how I killed them," he continued his
earlier thought.
"You're insane," she whispered back, flinching
slightly when he raised the blunt edge of his weapon
as though he were going to strike her again. His
blow never followed through. He backed away from her
instead, smiling through a maw of short teeth.
"Your -- professional opinion, Counselor?"
"I never told you that I was a Counselor,
either." She slid forward from the wall and her dark
eyes flashed.
"They were easy to kill." Thoth glanced
deliberately around the room. "Their minds are
fragile."
"There are no Ferengi telepaths." Troi stood
motionless at the edge of the bulkhead. "Your brains
have four lobes. They're incapable of supporting a
paracortex."
:::You know this to be a fact?::: Thoth
projected in anger, and Troi cringed at the raw
impact of his undisciplined intrusion. It was also a
powerful intrusion, and she regarded him coldly,
unwilling to allow him the satisfaction of a
response. According to every Federation text she
had ever read in her lifetime, there were no Ferengi
telepaths. Their brain structure made it as
impossible for them to exhibit telepathic
characteristics as it did for any telepath to read
their thoughts. But standing before her was a
blatant and undeniable defiance of that fact.
Still, if this much was true, it might also be
possible to form a sense of him. Concentrating her
focus, Deanna felt the smallest glimmer of entry --
before it was gone. She frowned imperceptibly at the
failure. Had he blocked her somehow? It didn't seem
feasible, given the lack of discipline in his earlier
projection. Blocking a probe took years of mental
practice, and it was more than apparent that Thoth
had received no such instruction.
"I don't understand," she stalled. "Why would
you need those children to hide this ship if you
yourself are capable-"
Thoth's gaze settled on Troi and she was
suddenly certain that he was nowhere near as powerful
as the outburst he'd thrown at her.
"You're not using them to hide the ship." She
whispered disgustedly. "You're using them to augment
your own power. The same way you used them to kill
all of these officers"
Yanking back on the hair of one of the dead
Romulans, DaiMon Thoth dropped her face against the
instrument panel. "And now I will profit from the
sale of their ship, one piece at a time." His angry
eyes devoured her. "Before I take yours."
"You expect to gain control of the Enterprise?"
Deanna's eyes widened. Before she was able continue,
Nuk stumbled into the room, hauling a wild-eyed
Verisa child in his meaty grasp. It was Avrim, and
his panic was readily apparent. The small Ferengi
held him fast.
"Let him go," Deanna spun toward Thoth, "He
has no impact on your profit."
"Perhaps not." The DaiMon scowled. "But his
death will ensure your -- continued -- cooperation."
"What do you want from me?" Troi shook her
head.
"You know the language of the children." His
sibilant slur was dangerously low. "You are able to
communicate with them, where I am only able to
respond with fragments. They will trust you, the way
that this one trusts you." He glared at the boy.
Avrim's small hands moved quickly and Deanna
struggled to keep up. "He's frightened, DaiMon,
please... let him go back with the others. I'll do
whatever you ask."
Thoth stared directly into her gaze. He
considered her words and then nodded slightly. Troi
had only begun to exhale when he suddenly lifted his
weapon and fired with deadly accuracy.
"No!!" Deanna wailed, clutching her chest as a
cascading sense of agony forced her to her knees.
The Verisa child pitched forward from the force
of the blow. His tiny torso was gone, blackened by a
charred hole from the powerful weapon's discharge .
Eyes frozen forever in a moment of terror, Avrim's
lifeless body slid to the floor of the bridge.
"You monster!" Troi sobbed, crawling the short
distance between her position and the little boy's
body. She gathered his head into her lap and shut
his tiny eyes with her hand.
"Now, Commander," DaiMon Thoth leered at her.
"You will no longer question my orders. You will do
whatever I ask. Or I will kill two more."
--o--
--------
Chapter 62
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Lay on, Macduff; and damn'd be him that first cries,
'Hold, enough!'"
--William Shakespeare, Macbeth
--------
"Like hell!" Riker glared at his Captain,
pacing back and forth in the older man's ready-room.
"Number One," Picard began patiently. "We are
faced with an extremely delicate situation. There
are children on board that vessel; children whose
lives are in danger if we allow our course of action
to be known. For whatever reason, our transporters
and sensors have been unable to penetrate their
shields. They may be grounded, but the reality of a
potential hostage situation demands our respect."
The Captain paused, adjusting his jacket. "I realize
your feelings on the matter."
"With all due respect sir?" Riker dropped
unceremoniously onto a nearby couch and drew both
hands through his hair. "You have no idea."
"Your fiance may be a hostage, Will." Picard's
infuriatingly level expression remained. "I would
imagine that to be enough cause for any officer to
find himself AWOL within a day. I'm hoping to keep
you on my bridge a little longer than that."
With a wry smile, Riker rose to his feet. "I'm
not about to endanger this ship, sir. If that's what
you mean. Deanna would never forgive me if I did."
"That's correct, Commander. But neither are
you about to sit around and do nothing. I understand
that, which is why I will be allowing you to lead the
away-team once we're certain of our objectives."
Riker's flash of surprise registered with Picard, but
he chose to pretend it hadn't. "I'll be going
directly against Starfleet protocols when I give that
order, but I strongly believe that you are still the
most qualified and best suited officer to lead such a
mission; your personal relationship with the
Counselor notwithstanding. And I have complete
faith in your ability to separate the issues." His
final remark was accompanied by a pointed look, under
which Riker nodded slowly.
"Thank you, sir."
<Bridge to Captain Picard>
"Go ahead ensign."
<Sir, Ambassador Troi is here.>
"Thank you. Please escort her to my ready
room, " he sighed softly and turned to Riker. "I am
not looking forward to this."
The door hissed aside and Picard cringed in
anticipation; ready for the full-out verbal assault
that was most certainly on its way. Only it never
came. Lwaxana Troi stepped regally inside. She said
nothing at all.
Trading a glance between Will and the woman
before him, Picard found himself speechless. The
look on the Ambassador's face was surprising, to say
the least. Not to mention the fact that she hadn't
uttered a single word of anger or protest over the
current situation; a situation which she was
doubtless well aware of already.
"Ambassador," The Captain inclined his head.
"I'm sure you are aware why I've asked you here."
She stared coldly at him for a moment and when
her voice finally came, it was eerily neutral. "My
daughter is on that ship, Jean-Luc." The look in her
eyes was haunted. "But I can't sense her at all.
She was there and now she's not. All of a sudden
she's just -- gone."
Placing his hand on the older woman's arm,
Riker turned her slowly toward him. "We spoke to her
only a few minutes ago. She's okay for the moment.
But I have no sense of her either. At first, I
wasn't sure if that was because she was too far away.
But now I think we both might be experiencing the
same thing."
"How, William?" Lwaxana shook her head. "How
are they doing this?"
"We're not sure." Picard came forward. "We
know very little at the present time, except that
Counselor Troi might have felt threatened in some
way. Perhaps her team was in jeopardy. Or the lives
of the children on board. She must have had reason
not to expose the deception outright."
Lwaxana continued to stare directly at Will and
Picard couldn't help but wonder what silent
communication might have passed between them. "We
had hoped you might be able to send a telepathic
message to her." he continued, "only now it appears
that option is not feasible either. We'll have to
come up with another alternative."
Will shifted where he stood, knowing the order
was coming; watching the older man's expression as a
silent tug-of-war was fought and conceded in an
instant. "Number One," Picard thinned his lips.
"Take a team down there and stay out of sight. See
if you can get inside that ship unannounced."
"Aye sir." Riker nodded, exhaling his relief
before managing to curb the impulse. His body turned
toward the doorway when he felt a hand on his arm
from behind.
"Your link with her is stronger than mine now,
William." Lwaxana whispered so that only he could
hear. "Don't forget that."
Her hand left his arm and Riker nodded
minutely, offering her a short glance before he left
the ready-room and stepped out onto the bridge.
--o--
-- -------
Chapter 63
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The first duty of love is to listen."
--Paul Tillich
--------
"Get up, female!" Nuk yanked on Deanna's arm,
hauling her to her feet next to the dead child.
"There is work to do."
Troi's center of balance had returned, but her
eyes were filled with hatred when she glared at the
smaller Ferengi. Meeting her expression for only an
instant, Nuk backed away, keeping the barrel of his
weapon trained on her. "Move!"
The trip down the corridor was slow, and she
made it deliberately sluggish; refusing to keep pace
with her captor despite his muttered cursing. When
they finally entered the children's area, Troi's eyes
scanned the group. Several children glanced up,
moderately curious of the open doorway. One of them
gestured, asking whether Avrim had eaten any of their
promised candy. Troi turned away and shut her eyes,
fighting against a sudden wave of nausea.
"Already they trust you." DaiMon Thoth
appeared from one of the corners of the suite. He
had been standing near the illuminated globe and it
was apparent that he had come for an increase in his
mental abilities. Though a ripple of disgust still
clutched her throat, Deanna was able to note that a
new group of children sat cross-legged around the
orb. The others played at various positions
throughout the room. Thoth's fingers gripped her
arm and she froze.
"You will tell them I require double the amount
of energy for the next cycle."
Troi looked away.
"Do you -- defy me, Commander?" The Ferengi
took the hand of one of the smaller children and held
it. The little girl smiled up at him.
With a downward glance, Deanna sighed. She
made her way to the small group surrounding the orb
and gestured to one of them. Her gaze shifted
backward to Thoth, and then returned to the group.
Tapping a second child on the arm to break his
concentration, she signed something to him as well
and the little boy nodded.
Pleased with her response, the DaiMon smiled in
satisfaction. Moments later he left the room,
sealing Troi and the children within.
*
Riker's team materialized less than a kilometre
from the transport freighter. It was a stroke of
fortune that the southern hemisphere of Ony'am was
densely forested. With its thick conifers and an
abundance of small herbivorous wildlife, he hoped to
keep their approach less conspicuous, confusing any
sensor sweeps the grounded ship might make.
It had taken him some time to choose, but the
final analysis had yielded four officers in total;
LaForge, Data, Doctor Crusher and of course himself.
If he kept it simple this way, he would be able cover
as many bases as possible with as few team members as
he was able to get away with.
Though their progress through the wilderness
was slower than he might have liked, Riker found that
the closer they got to the Ferengi ship, the more
familiar things seemed. It was a kind of intangible
familiarity which he had come to associate with
Deanna, and it meant that she was alive.
The fact that her presence seemed so faint was
strange, though. Ever since they had taken the first
step in the bonding ceremony, his sense of her had
been extremely strong. Nearly overwhelming at times,
though he would never have admitted it. He knew
they would both learn to adapt to the link as time
went by. What he hadn't anticipated was that it
might be able to save one of their lives someday.
Pausing in his tracks, he dropped his head and
exhaled.
"Commander, are you all right?" Geordi LaForge
placed his hand on Riker's shoulder.
"I'm fine," he frowned slightly. "I just felt
a little queasy there for a minute. That's all."
"Nauseous?" Crusher was in front of him before
he could protest, tricorder in hand.
"Beverly, it's fine." He smiled at her worried
look. "Actually, I think it's Deanna who isn't
feeling so well. I was thinking of her when I felt
this sudden wave of nausea."
Crusher raised an eyebrow. "You've got a sense
of her again. Can you tell if she's all right?"
"I think so," he shook his head. "It's too
faint. If I had to guess, I'd say she was just
disgusted with something."
"Well, that could be a good sign." Beverly
smiled wanly. "She's still holding out."
"Lets keep going." Riker shrugged off the
doctor's scrutinizing glance and turned toward Data.
"What are we picking up on long range?"
Data afforded his tricorder a decidedly
overstated frown. It was a 'thoughtful' expression
which he had practiced over the years in his
endeavors to appear more human. "There is a ship
just ahead. I am reading it as a Ferengi transport
freighter." He tipped his head. "Curious."
"What is?"
"The energy emanating from the vessel is not
consistent with Ferengi transport specifications."
"In English, Data." Crusher admonished softly.
"It is giving off enough steam to warm up a
small planet, Doctor." Data turned his yellow eyes
on Beverly, who smiled.
"Could they be up to something? Maybe that's
why they landed." Geordi examined his own tricorder.
"Data, can you analyze those readings. Lets
get a signature on them. If they're not entirely
Ferengi, I'd like to know what we're dealing with
before we get any closer."
The android nodded wordlessly and began
reprogramming the instrument in his hand.
Just outside the perimeter of a large clearing,
Riker halted the team. They were several meters
within the cover of the forest and the freighter was
visible ahead. Sitting on its own in the center of
such a large field, it appeared almost tiny..
"I need those readings, Data." Riker threw his
officer an expectant look, but Data ignored it;
already hard to task.
*
When Thoth had gone, Deanna stood and regarded
the only doorway to the room. He had come here to
extract the telepathic energy being collected for him
by the children, and that meant that he had a
weakness. If he wasn't able to receive the
augmentation at the onset of the next cycle, he would
be unable to maintain the illusion over the Warbird
and the Enterprise would detect the ship immediately.
She had a plan, and she would put it to use.
Her only hope now, was that DaiMon Thoth not discover
what she had actually told the children before it was
too late. Glancing at the orb near the back of the
room, Troi began to examine its features when her
head suddenly turned; her attention refocused and her
breath quickened in her chest.
It was Will. He was nearby, somewhere close.
Her sense of him was very faint, but the proximity he
would have had to attain in order for even this much
was dear indeed. Closing her eyes, Deanna breathed
him in hungrily. She hadn't realized how alone she'd
felt, or how worried until just this moment. It
would be impossible for her to communicate with him
using words under the circumstances, but perhaps it
would be possible to let him know she was aware of
his presence, at least.
Focussing her thoughts so that they surrounded
him alone, she reached within herself and sent him
the most powerful emotion she was able to gather.
Her dark eyes opened, filled with purpose and she
backed against the wall, leaning against its cool
surface for support.
He would understand her message. He had to.
--o--
--------
Chapter 64
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Do not go gentle into that good night. ...
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
--Dylan Thomas
--------
"A what?" Riker leaned forward; uncertain he
had heard Data's words correctly.
"The energy readings are consistent with the
type and scale of a Vohr-Class Romulan Warbird," the
android repeated.
"Could they have a Romulan warp-core in their
ship for some reason?" Crusher's eyes widened.
"Impossible," LaForge shook his head. "That
kind of power doesn't just disburse on its own.
They'd need the entire engineering room from a
Romulan Warbird just to run the core."
"Take an educated guess at what's causing those
readings," Riker's gaze shifted between Geordi and
Data.
"Well sir," Geordi frowned. "Either that
Ferengi freighter is a lot bigger than it looks from
here, or there's a cloaked Romulan Warbird somewhere
in this clearing."
"Except that a Warbird would take up this
entire field," Riker countered, "even cloaked, it
would crush that Freighter like a tin-can."
"You asked for an educated guess, sir."
LaForge shrugged. "I'm giving you one."
"And you concur?" Will turned to Data.
"Yes sir. I am afraid there does not seem to
be any other viable explanation."
"Okay." Riker exhaled slowly. "Lets assume
for a minute that you're both right, and that for
whatever reason, we're not seeing what's really in
this field. Neither were the Enterprise sensors, or
the tricorders we brought down here. What kind of
technology does something like that?"
"Nothing I've ever heard of." Geordi cast a
sidelong glance at Data.
"Nor I." The android confirmed.
"What if it's not technology at all."
Crusher's eyes narrowed and she studied the empty
clearing for a moment.
"Meaning?" Riker threw her a look.
"Well, a powerful hallucinogenic drug can make
a humanoid see just about anything." The Doctor
nodded, "maybe what's doing this isn't artificial.
Maybe its biological."
"Are you saying we were all drugged? What
about the ship's computers, the sensor logs." Will
frowned.
"If the ship were cloaked, that would take care
of most of the sensor readings. Beyond that, I think
we have to remember that Enterprise officers take all
of those readings. And that leaves them open to
pretty much anything."
Riker was about to comment further when he
suddenly froze; eyes forward, staring at the Ferengi
ship. "Deanna," he whispered.
"What is it?" Crusher stood next to him.
"She knows we're here." A slight smile touched
the corners of his lips and he murmured in awe,
"she's letting me know that she knows we're here."
"Can you talk to her? Tell her anything?"
Riker shook his head. "Not yet," his eyes rose
and met Crusher's. "Beverly, is it possible that
whatever is keeping a lid on my sense of Deanna might
be the same thing that's cloaking a ship in this
clearing?"
"You're asking the wrong person, Commander."
The Doctor shook her head. "If Deanna were here,
I'd suggest we ask her. But I suppose that
anything's possible."
"I have a better idea." Tapping the badge at
his chest, Will smiled at the doctor. "Riker to
Enterprise."
<Enterprise here, Commander. Go ahead.>
"Lieutenant, I need you to get me Ambassador
Troi on the COMM. Right away."
--o--
--------
Chapter 65
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
Rated PG-14
"Immortality consists largely of boredom."
--Zefram Cochrane
--------
Backed against a bulkhead with the barrel of a
disruptor in her face, Deanna Troi had few options.
Getting herself killed for a biting remark wasn't the
most appealing of them. She bit down on her tongue
until the painful pressure overwhelmed her anger, but
she stared at her captor in silence.
"I will not abide your defiance any longer,
Commander." DaiMon Thoth growled, pressing the
rounded metal weapon against her forehead. "You
attempt to betray me at every turn, yet you are aware
that I will kill these children one at a time if you
continue," he shook his bulbous head. "You are less
useful then I had planned. Perhaps, I should kill
you instead." Thoth waited a moment for his comment
to settle on her, but his only response was a pair of
expressionless black eyes; unblinking though he
scowled. "Come with me," shoving her forward
through the corridor, he forced their progress
towards the bridge. "I have something to show you."
As they entered the command center of the
Warbird, she nearly froze in her tracks. It was
apparent that the giant viewscreen had been
activated; a forested landscape was clearly visible
through it. But what startled her was not the view.
It was her sense of Will, or rather, the strength of
it.
Perhaps for the same reason that the illusion
of a Ferengi freighter was not maintained on the
bridge of the ship, her sense of Riker was nearly
unhindered. And that meant that she could probably
communicate with him as well. Readying herself for
the attempt, Troi's eye caught a whisper of movement
through the massive portal. There were people in the
woods. Her heart leapt into her throat. If DaiMon
Thoth hadn't seen them already, he very soon would.
Her eyes flew back to her captor, gauging in an
instant whether or not he had wanted to 'show her'
the members of her crew in the forest. But he hadn't
even glanced in their direction since the moment they
arrived on the bridge. That was telling enough for
her.
Deanna lunged at a nearby console, tapping an
entry key as though she had been attempting to access
the comm. She didn't have to wait long for a
response. The impact of the Ferengi's boot at the
base of her spine sent her tumbling to the ground.
As she let herself fall, wincing in pain, she reached
up and pulled the DaiMon's arm for support, toppling
him in the process. His disruptor went off, but not
in her direction and she seized the opportunity
before it was gone.
:::Go!!::: Her mind screamed the imperative,
issued a mental command as loudly as she was able.
"Go?" Thoth responded to her telepathic cry,
misinterpreting it as stray. "Betazoid, bitch," he
snarled, "where do you think you will *go*?" She
thought of Will, and caught only a glimpse of the
viewscreen again before the blunt end of Thoth's
weapon crashed down on her skull, and everything was
dark.
*
"Then it's possible that if we get inside that
ship, I'll be able to feel Deanna's presence again."
Riker considered thoughtfully, listening to the sound
of the Ambassador's voice on the other end of the
COMM.
<If you're already noticing a change, William,
then I think that's exactly what will happen.> The
older Troi came back.
"The question is," he muttered to himself,
"what kind of ship is it?"
"Commander," LaForge interjected, "I think if
we move in over here, we might be able to come out
behind the aft bulkhead. If the nacelles are back
there, their static energy signature might block our
intrusion. Or at least, make it look like just
another curious animal walking by."
"Four curious animals, Goerdi," Crusher smiled.
"Either way, doc, I think it's our best
chance." LaForge shut his tricorder with a flourish.
"All right." Riker nodded. "Thank you
Ambassador. I'll work on the assumption that you're
right."
<Of course I'm right.>
He smiled. "And we'll head in the way Geordi
suggested. Riker out," he tapped his communicator
and turned to his team. "Lets move."
Circling the perimeter of the clearing, they
maintained their forest cover until LaForge brought
them up short. "This is it," he whispered. "It'll
be a bit of a sprint, but I think we can make it to
the hull before being seen. Unless their sensors are
already trained on this area."
"The odds of that happening are approximately
one in twenty-three." Data nodded helpfully.
"Then we've got a good chance."
Without warning, Riker felt a wash of sensation
whiplash through his body; replacing the familiar
sense of proximity he had known was missing. It was
Deanna, and it felt as though she were looking right
at him.
His eyes darted to the ship in the clearing and
then back again, noticing for the first time that
Geordi had unwittingly moved out of the cover of the
woods. On instinct, he reached forward to pull
LaForge back, but his motion never followed through.
:::Go!!::: Troi's cry echoed in his thoughts.
It was followed by a shuddering sense of agony and he
nearly lost his footing as her pain became his own.
"Run." He barked at the others. "Now!"
Sprinting forward through the brush, they entered the
clearing together and flew toward the hull of the
ship. They made it there in a matter of moments, and
Riker pressed his back against the rough surface of
the metal, counting his team. Everyone got through;
everyone, except Deanna. He felt the precise moment
when consciousness slipped from her body. Hands
fisted at his sides, fingernails savagely biting into
the skin of his palms, Riker's jaw clenched. "I'm
going to rip that bastard's heart out," he growled.
Only able to guess at the cause of his distress
and the circumstances under which he had known to
call them to action, Crusher placed one of her hands
on each of his shoulders. "Commander, listen to what
you're saying," her voice was level and calm and her
cold blue eyes seized on his. When he had clearly
resisted the urge to shove her aside, the glint in
the doctor's expression grew sharp. "You're going to
rip his heart out? This is the twenty-fourth
century, Will. I have a laser scalpel right here in
my bag."
--o--
--------
Chapter 66
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"We are not human beings on a spiritual journey.
We are spiritual beings on a human journey."
--Stephen Covey
--------
Climbing in an access port near the back of the
ship, Riker couldn't help but marvel at how long the
tunnel seemed to be. If he hadn't known any better
he might have considered that their ascent through
the smooth metal air-shaft was even longer than the
length of the ship itself.
"Geordi," he called over his shoulder, "is it
me, or is this tunnel a hell of a lot longer than it
looks?"
"It's not you, Commander." LaForge exhaled a
tired breath. "I'm more convinced than ever that we
are *not* inside any Ferengi transport ship. I don't
care what it looks like on the outside."
Facing forward, Riker sighed. "Data," he
tapped the android in front of him. "do us all a
favor. Go on ahead and find out just how far this
thing goes."
"Yes sir." Data's perfunctory response came
back and he quickened his pace, disappearing at the
apex of perspective within a matter of a minute.
Several seconds afterward, he came back into view,
crawling backward. "The tunnel extends an additional
two hundred and nine meters from our current
position. There is a vacant chamber on the other
side."
Crusher groaned and Geordi exhaled slowly.
"All right," Riker offered, "that's still doable.
Lets keep going."
*
Troi woke on the bridge of the Warbird, her
eyes slid open and she tried to ignore the pounding
ache in her skull. For whatever reason, Thoth had
opted not to kill her. He was standing at a console,
analyzing something when her gaze finally found
focus.
Noticing her movement, the DaiMon turned. "You are
lucky, female," he smirked. "Your interference
caused no permanent damage."
"Oh," Deanna winced as she lifted her head from
the wall. "That's wonderful," she whispered
expressionlessly. If she were really lucky, her so-
called 'interference' would cause a lot more damage
than Thoth could ever anticipate. Her sense of Will
was gone, however. No doubt because he had managed
to enter the ship and was once again cloaked in the
same telepathic darkness that hid the Warbird from
the Enterprise. She sighed.
Thoth's weapon trained on her once more and she
looked up at him coolly. "You will accompany me to
the orb for my next cycle," he gestured her to her
feet.
Clutching the wall for support, Troi pulled
herself into a standing position and preceded the
Ferengi off the bridge into the corridor. They were
going back to see the children. Only this time,
DaiMon Thoth would be in for a surprise. She smiled
slightly, eyes straight ahead; focusing on the empty
hallway in her path.
*
Progress from the rear of the ship was slow and
wound through a myriad of corridors, none of which
seemed consistent with Ferengi design schematics.
They walked past a doorway and Geordi stopped short.
"If I'm right, this could be main engineering,"
he turned and tapped the doorplate, surprised when it
slid easily aside. "And I'm right," the engineer's
offhanded whisper came back. "Commander, there's no
one in here at all."
"Then get inside, and get that cloaking device
off, Geordi. If you can get rid of whatever's
disrupting our sensors, I want you to contact the
Enterprise and have them beam a security team down
here. We may need the help." Riker glanced at the
empty corridor, reassuring himself that no one was
coming.
"You got it." LaForge nodded, stepping away
from the team and disappearing inside the enclosure.
"The rest of you, stay with me.."
The next door they came upon was locked.
Turning to Data, Riker motioned the android forward.
With casual dexterity, Data placed a tiny keypad
against the surface of the servo-panel. He punched
in a series of numbers and an audible beep sounded.
With a backward glance at his superior and a shrug,
the second officer placed one hand on either side of
the double doorway and pulled.
His strength won out over the mechanism within
a matter of moments and the door slid open, revealing
-- to everyone's surprise -- a room full of Verisa
children.
And a Ferengi with a disruptor.
Acting on instinct, Riker sidestepped the first
blast, rounding on his assailant. The phaser at his
belt came quickly to his hand and he held it aloft
while Data restrained a struggling captive.
"First officer -- Nuk -- isn't it?" Riker
tipped his head and smiled. "Not very hospitable of
you." Several of the children in the back of the
room huddled in a corner at the sight of the weapon's
discharge. "Mr. Data, I think I've got this one.
Why don't you and the doctor see if you can get those
kids off this ship."
Crusher nodded wordlessly and Data released his
prisoner, dropping the Ferengi without ceremony.
Frozen in terror, Nuk muttered something about profit
and being forced to cooperate, before he promptly
passed out -- crumbling to a heap on the floor.
"Damn. That wasn't any fun at all." Riker
frowned at the unconscious alien before his eyes
lifted and scanned the large room. "What is so
special about this place..." he mumbled to himself.
Moving single file, Crusher herded the silent
children out the doorway without a single word, and
Riker had to marvel. Whatever else was to be said
about a maternal instinct, it really did have its
moments. He watched until the last of the Verisa
youngsters had left the room, headed for the intake
shaft, before he turned his gaze back on Nuk.
"You were going to tell me where I might find
your DaiMon," Will sighed. "Now I'm just going to
have to guess." No sooner had he spoken then a
shivering sense of Deanna washed over him. His head
snapped upright. The panel he'd been staring at
flickered briefly, revealing a dark green bulkhead
before the image vanished and everything was gray
once more. "What the hell?" Bridging the distance
between his position and the far wall, Riker placed
his hand on its surface, testing the sensation. It
sure as hell felt like cold titanium.
*
Marching through the empty corridor, Troi felt
a rush of adrenaline fill her veins along with the
unmistakable sense of Will Riker. Without missing a
step, she continued forward, smiling briefly when the
walls around her flickered, indicating a lapse in the
DaiMon's delicate control. He had exhausted a great
deal of his mental ability and if he wasn't able to
recharge it soon, the entire ship would remain
visible next time.
They rounded the corner of the hallway and
Thoth brought them up short. "Something is wrong,"
he whispered, backing against the wall. Angry eyes
turned on Troi. "What have you done?" She stared at
him blankly, as though she had no idea what he was
talking about. He glanced warily in either
direction. "Come with me." He barked, grabbing hold
of her arm and dragging her through the corridor
toward the children's room. When they arrived, the
door was already open.
"What?" DaiMon Thoth peered within the
enclosure. It was apparently empty, save for the
pulsing yellow globe, sitting on its own near the far
corner of the room. The strength of the light
emanating from it indicated that the orb had been
filled to capacity with psychic energy and Thoth
hurried toward it.
Placing both hands on the surface of the
object, he shut his eyes, prepared for the familiar
strength which had always flowed before. Only this
time, he shrieked and pulled away. Howling in rage,
the DaiMon rounded on Troi and leveled his weapon at
her. "You!" He cried. "You did this!"
Deanna regarded him with black eyes,
unblinking. She knew what he had seen; what he had
gathered from the orb. Nothing but the insubstantial
yearnings of the children for their candy and their
toys. A harmless telepathic wish-list with
absolutely no inherent power for him to draw from.
The look in her eyes remained unchanged.
Thoth advanced toward her, disruptor in hand.
He grabbed her by the arm and pressed its barrel to
her head. "You will die for this deception,
Commander," he snarled.
"Back away from her." Another voice cut in and
the DaiMon yanked his captor around to view its
source. Will Riker stood at the entrance to the
large room, his own weapon in hand.
When Troi's eyes locked with his, he felt the
tumble of every emotion he had been cut off from fill
his being. The walls around them pulsed with an
unnatural glow and then rippled softly, revealing the
dark interior of what could only have been an
enormous Romulan Warbird.
Stowing his automatic response to such a
dramatic shift in locale, Riker kept his eyes on
Troi. He felt her presence fill his soul and he
embraced her through the distance. Deanna's eyes
closed and then opened once more. It was the only
visible indication he had that she had shared the
sensation. But it was enough.
"Lower your weapon, DaiMon." Riker's gaze
narrowed.
"I do not think so, hu-man." The Ferengi's
crude voice responded. Tapping an instrument on his
wrist, he pulled Deanna toward him and tipped his
head in triumph as the pickle of transport enveloped
them both, and they were suddenly gone.
"Damn it!" Riker slammed the communicator on
his chest. "Doctor, what's the status of those
children."
"We're outside, Commander. I brought them into
the forest. The Enterprise is beaming up the last
group now." Her voice came back.
"Good. Geordi, I need those shields down now.
And get me that security team. I'm going after
Deanna." Without another moment's hesitation, he
threw himself down the corridor at break-neck speed.
--o--
--------
Chapter 67
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the
transition that's troublesome."
--Isaac Asimov
--------
:::Deanna, god, I don't even know if I'm doing
this right. Can you hear me?::: Riker shut his eyes
and concentrated, breathing hard, his back to the
bulkhead of the ship. She felt as though she were
nearby, but every room he checked came up eerily
silent; eerily empty. When he was met with no
response, the pit of his stomach sank.
:::Will,::: finally, her voice. It sang in his
thoughts and he felt the warmth of her body surround
him as though she were really in his arms. :::I hear
you. We're outside the ship. Aft quarter, heading
for the woods.:::
:::Not if I can help it.::: He sent back,
rounding a corner and ripping an access panel off the
wall. He climbed inside and headed toward the
exterior of the ship. :::Are you all right?::: She
didn't seem injured, only tired and angry. He could
almost feel her sigh.
:::I'm okay. I think he plans to use me as a
hostage, he won't hurt me for now.:::
:::How did he hide the ship like that? Why?:::
There was silence in his thoughts for a time,
followed by an overwhelming sense of grief. :::He
killed one of the children, Will. A little boy. His
name was Avrim. He killed him because I wouldn't
cooperate.:::
:::Oh, Jesus.::: He shut his eyes and then
reopened them. Nothing he could say would make this
right for her, and certainly no comfort he could
offer while she was being held captive would help
their situation. He had to get her back on track.
:::Deanna, I want you to concentrate on where you're
headed. See if you can show me. I'm almost outside,
but I'll need to know where you went.::: He felt
her resolution slip back into place and exhaled
gratefully.
:::We're not in the forest yet. He's stopped.
I think he's trying to figure out whether it's safe
or not.:::
:::Good. Try and make him think it's not. But
do me a favor and don't give him any reason to shoot
you. It's really hard to replace a good ship's
Counselor this time of year.::: His somewhat awkward
attempt at humor seemed to warm the sense of her he
felt. :::I'll be there as soon as I can.:::
:::I know.::: He felt her thoughts shift.
:::I keep thinking, if we had been able to sense one
another this way on Betazed, when that Sindareen
terrorist took me, it would have been so much easier
for everyone.:::
:::It might have saved me a trip into the
jungle.::: Riker quipped, locating the hatch at the
end of the access-shaft and yanking it open. A river
of light from the outdoor clearing spilled inside.
:::Actually, I sort of liked our trip through
the jungle,::: he heard her answer, :::on the way
back.:::
:::Me too, sparks. Me too.::: He could see
them now. Standing on the edge of the clearing.
Thoth held his weapon to the side of Troi's head and
she was speaking; saying something which had
definitely unnerved her Ferengi captor.
Riker crept forward slowly. Ducking beneath
the hull of the de-cloaked Warbird, he held position
just out of view. "Good girl. Keep him talking," he
whispered under his breath.
:::Keep your emotions in check, Will. He's a
telepath.::: Her warning caused Riker's eyes to
widen.
:::That's not possible, is it?:::
:::I'll debate feasibility issues with you
later, Commander. Just do as I say.:::
:::Yes, ma'am.::: He winced and then suddenly
froze. :::Can he hear us?:::
:::No. He's too weak. He was using those
children to augment a very minor talent. At the
present, I'd say that he can only sense powerful
emotions or thoughts projected at a high mental
pitch. I'm blocking our conversation even so.:::
Will exhaled a breath he hadn't even realized
he held. :::Hey, sparks, teach me how to do that too
someday?:::
:::Get us through this, Riker, and I'll teach
you anything you want.:::
:::I'll hold you to that.::: He grinned.
:::Okay, I'm right behind you. Can you distract
him?:::
:::Easily done.:::
Riker smiled to himself. Troi's confidence
seemed to have grown over the course of their
conversation -- just the way he'd hoped it would.
Somehow, knowing you weren't alone was one hell of an
ego boost in a hostage situation.
He watched as Deanna pointed in the direction
of the forest and Thoth turned to regard her
indication. Moving quickly, Riker slid from his
hiding place and advanced on his prey. He had almost
made the target when DaiMon Thoth spun around, still
clinging to Troi.
"Do not come any closer, hu-man, or I will kill
the female." Thoth's disruptor grazed the skin at
Deanna's temple and Riker saw her eyes flash.
"Kill her, and you're next, Thoth." Riker held
his ground.
"You -- would not kill me. Your Starfleet
protocols do not permit such violence."
"You know," Will exhaled and shook his head.
"You're really starting to piss me off." His sharp
blue gaze narrowed, "Today, was supposed to be my
wedding day."
"Congratulations, hu-man." The Ferengi
smirked. "Perhaps you should remove yourself from
this planet and attend to more important matters."
"Now see, I would." Riker's eyebrow rose.
"But I don't believe I've introduced you to my
fiance, yet."
"I will forgo the honor." Thoth grimaced
distastefully.
"No no, I insist." Riker smiled. "Commander
Troi," he threw her a look, "I'm sure you've met
DaiMon Thoth. DaiMon Thoth, my fiance, Commander
Troi."
Thoth hissed in surprise. His eyes grew wide
and his gaze shifted between the two officers.
"Now, I'm sure you can see my dilemma." Riker
continued undaunted.
Pressing his weapon hard against Deanna's
skull, the Ferengi backed them both against the hull
of the ship. "You would not kill me, Federation hu-
man. Your laws forbid it."
Affording Troi a meaningful look, Riker glanced
away briefly. His shoulders dropped and his weapon
fell to his side. "You're right," he sighed. "I
really can't do anything to you. Besides," he
shrugged, "you and I have no personal quarrel. We've
barely met."
Thoth nodded. "You are wise, hu-man."
"Unfortunately," Will smiled good-naturedly.
"I'm not the one you need to be worried about."
The DaiMon frowned in momentary confusion, but
it was the only lapse in concentration Riker
required. Raising his phaser in an instant, he
fired, sending the Ferengi's disruptor flying from
his grasp. The weapon landed several feet away and
Troi's captor shrieked, staggering backward against
the hull as the shockwave from the impact rattled the
bones in his hand.
"Fair's fair." Riker looked over at Troi and
shrugged. "She doesn't get a weapon, you don't
either." Suddenly free of the sticky grasp of her
captor, Deanna was able to right her posture and
stand her full height. Her gaze locked with Will's.
Turning where he stood, Riker began walking in
the other direction. He didn't notice when Thoth's
wild eyes scanned the area for some form of escape.
Nor when the Ferengi dropped to his knees and lunged
for the weapon on the ground. He didn't even see it
when Troi's boot came down hard, landing with a solid
crunch on the barrel of the metal disruptor.
DaiMon Thoth lifted his gaze, pulling his hand
away from the immobile weapon. "You are Betazoid.
Your people abhor violence," he scrambled backward.
"That's true." Deanna spoke calmly, kicking
the weapon aside; sending it soaring into the dense
foliage of the forest. "My people abhor violence,"
she advanced toward him even so. When she reached
his position, Troi's dark eyes flashed. "The problem
you face, little troll," her sibilant voice caressed
his ear. "Is that I'm only half Betazoid."
Cowering in terror against the edge of the
great ship's hull, DaiMon Thoth covered his head with
his hands and Deanna lowered herself to be at level
with him. "This is for Avrim," she whispered.
She said nothing more, for a very long time.
*
Turning only once as he rounded the perimeter
of the ship, Riker looked back and saw Troi sitting
in a half-squat. She was only a foot or two away
from Thoth, and neither one of them was moving.
"Commander!" Geordi LaForge hurried toward him
from the other side of the ship. "We've been looking
everywhere for you. Did you find the Counselor?"
"I found DaiMon Thoth," Riker met with Geordi
and the engineer caught a glimpse of Troi in the
distance. "He's no longer a threat." Will placed
his hand on the other man's shoulder and turned them
both around, walking back the way Geordi had come.
"There's no sign of Deanna yet." Will continued,
"we'll have to keep looking." LaForge frowned for a
moment, before his gaze met Riker's and the
engineer's expression transformed into an inscrutable
one.
"Yeah," Geordi nodded. "Okay."
The two officers continued on toward their
rendez-vous with the security team -- on the other
side of the ship.
--o--
--------
Chapter 68
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned
about life. It goes on."
--Robert Frost
--------
"Commander! You'd better come take a look at
this!"
Riker turned and glanced in the direction of
the security officer's yell. He could see Deanna
being lead around the aft portion of the ship in the
company of Beverly Crusher, but the Counselor held
her head aloft, and her emotions were as calm as
Riker had ever sensed in her. He sighed. Gathering
the PADD in his hand, he made his way toward the
insistent call.
"What have you got, Lieutenant?"
"Sir, we found him this way. He isn't
coherent. We don't know what's wrong with him. The
other two security officers who beamed down with the
Counselor say that he was perfectly fine when he
locked them in the brig, but look at him now."
Gesturing at the feeble creature who cowered in
abject terror near the base of the ship's hull, the
officer frowned and Riker felt a stab of pity. He
swallowed it whole.
Thoth was muttering and screaming
intermittently. Howling at a blood-curdling decibel,
as though he were about to die some horribly
unimaginable death.
"We found Counselor Troi nearby," The
lieutenant went on, "but she also claims that he was
quite coherent during the hostage situation."
"I can vouch for that as well," Riker nodded.
"I saw him pointing a disruptor at the Counselor's
head. He ordered me back and then transported off
the ship. There's not a doubt in my mind that he
knew exactly what he was doing at the time."
"Well sir, *something* must have happened to
him since then. Fleet command will have to give him
a psych work-up before a trial, I guess." The middle
aged security officer shrugged.
"I imagine they will, Lieutenant Hart." Riker
stared down at the Ferengi, thoughtfully. "Lets get
him out of here and into the brig. I don't want to
see his face for a very long time."
"Aye sir." Hart nodded to one of the other men
and together, they lifted their struggling captive.
"Enterprise, three to beam up. Security quarters."
Three proximal bodies shimmered in the wake of a
transporter beam and vanished.
Riker exhaled. He was about to turn and leave,
when he felt a hand on his arm. Geordi LaForge
stepped in front of him.
"Sir, with all due respect, what the hell was
that? What did she do to him?" He was clearly
concerned and so Riker pulled him aside, taking a
seat on one of the large metal struts of the Warbird.
The engineer followed.
"Geordi, DaiMon Thoth was a telepath. He was
using those children as a means to augment his
power."
"He what? A Ferengi telepath? That's not
possible..."
"Apparently, it is." Riker countered, pinning
the other man with a serious look. "The thing is,
being telepathic isn't a gift. It's a
responsibility. And it has a price," glancing behind
them at Troi and the doctor, Will sighed. "Deanna
pays that price every day of her life. And so does
every other telepathic individual. I don't know for
sure what happened between the two of them today,
Geordi, and maybe none of us ever will. But I think
-- I think Deanna just -- handed him the bill."
"And it turned him into that?" LaForge
swallowed. "How high was the tab?"
"Have you ever been forced to watch the murder
of a child by a point-blank disruptor charge?"
"God have mercy," The engineer looked away.
"You think he's reliving that?"
Riker nodded slowly. "If I know Deanna. From
the perspective of a terrified six-year-old boy.
Over and over again."
LaForge exhaled. "Whoa. I uh -- I didn't know
that she was capable of--I mean, I didn't know she
could-"
Riker said nothing, his blue eyes fixed
solemnly on his friend until LaForge finally sighed.
"Geordi, Deanna is the kindest person any one
of us have ever met. She loves every member of this
crew as though they were her own family. What
happened today will stay with her for the rest of her
life. But you need to believe that this was an
extraordinary circumstance."
"I know." Geordi nodded. "Hey, Commander, I
know. We love her too. There wasn't a single one of
us who didn't want to strangle that monster with our
bare hands. I guess I'm just -- a little in awe of
things right now. But I'm honored that you would
share something like this with me."
"You're a friend, Geordi. You're a good
friend. To both of us. And after what you did for
her today, you had a right to know. I'm sure she'd
want you to understand."
"If you ask me, the bastard deserved to know
what it was like for that child," the engineer
scowled.
Riker's lip tipped upward, but he said nothing
more. The two officers stared out into the woods, in
companionable silence.
--o--
--------
Chapter 69
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy."
--F. Scott Fitzgerald
--------
Counselor Troi's quarters were dark. Her door
chime rang, several times during the course of the
evening, but after a thorough exam from Beverly and a
discharge from sickbay, she had come here
immediately. She locked the door and she had sat on
the edge of her couch, in silence.
Not even her mother had been allowed entry; nor
Will. But he had been mercifully accepting of her
mood; leaving her door after only one chime. That
had been three hours ago. It was ship's night by
now, and still she remained where she sat.
Her chime rang again. Glancing up at the
blinking light which followed, Deanna stared at it
blankly. It was Will. He had left her alone for
several hours, but she had known it was only to be a
brief respite. Her option now was either to turn him
away once more, in which case he might argue this
time. Or to let him inside, in which case she would
have to face him. She placed her head in her hands
and exhaled through the space between them.
"Come," her muffled voice disabled the lock on
the door and it slid quietly open, revealing the man
beyond. He was quiet. He said nothing as he
entered her cabin, not even when the door hissed shut
behind him, plunging them both into darkness once
more.
The familiar warmth of his presence washed over
her and she shut her eyes, drinking it in. She had
felt a sense of purpose in being alone before. The
thinking she was able to accomplish on her own was
what she thought she wanted. The anger she felt free
to express in solitude was what she felt she needed.
But now, with Will suddenly so near, the force of the
link between them pulsed with a life -- almost its
own -- and she knew with sudden clarity that she had
been utterly wrong. Utterly alone, until this
moment.
Her gaze lifted from her hands and she saw him
clearly, silhouetted in the starlight of an enormous
portal in her suite. He moved forward in silence and
lowered himself into a seated position next to hers.
He placed his hands in his lap and stared out;
straight ahead, just as she had been doing. He
wasn't even touching her, but he didn't have to be.
Still, she took his hand. Reaching across her
lap into his, Deanna lifted his fingers and wound her
own through them. They held that way for some time,
though neither spoke. Not even telepathically.
Finally, long moments later, her grip on his
hand tightened and she laid the side of her head
against his shoulder. He hadn't moved, or said a
word, but with this new predicament, he tipped his
own head and brushed the side of his face against the
top of her hair. It was gentle, and unassuming;
undemanding of anything but her presence. It was
enough to coax the tears from where they hid.
Her sob was quiet at first, nearly inaudible,
while warm rivers of salty moisture traced indelible
pathways along her cheeks. She turned where she sat,
before the sound of her voice could be heard. He
wrapped strong arms around her; dropping his chin
across her head and pulling her body into the warmth
of his embrace. He rocked with her back and forth
while she cried, eyes shut, heart open to every
emotion; to the pain she felt so deeply. He shared
it with her.
And she wept in his arms.
Hours later, when Troi's voice had grown
silent; when they lay where they fell on the couch,
having done nothing of a sensual nature at all --
their bodies wrapped together in an intimate embrace.
Only then did she sleep; only then did they share the
same dream.
--o--
--------
Chapter 70
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Do, or do not. There is no 'try.'"
--Yoda, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back
--------
Riker's hand hovered above Deanna's temple and
he examined her face while she slept. Some time in
the early hours of the morning while he lay awake on
the couch in her quarters, he had made the decision
to relocate their haphazard sleeping arrangement.
Lifting the Counselor's slight form into his
arms, he carried her into the other room and set her
down in the bed. There, for the remainder of the
night, they slept.
It was unlike her not to rouse from her sleep
at such a disturbance; at least to acknowledge the
trivial imposition. But she had done neither. The
only indication he received that she was even
conscious had been her hands when they pulled around
his neck. She let him carry her without a word of
response, and she had felt impossibly fragile in his
arms.
Now, in the middle hours of ship's morning, she
was finally free of the hurt which had followed her
into sleep. He could sense only peace in her
thoughts and it imbued him with a feeling of relief
so powerful, he was forced to face the depth of his
own concern that she had been through too much in the
past twenty-four hours.
She would survive it, though. Whatever else
might have been, he would be with her through the
rest -- and she would come out on top. Lifting a
tendril of dark hair between his fingers, he drew it
slowly from her face and pressed it back against her
ear. She was right about his obsession with her
hair. It was long and thick and beautiful; just
right for her. He smiled at the errant thought and
his eyes brightened when he felt her begin to wake.
Finding him staring, with his head propped on
his hand and a curious grin on his face, Deanna
sucked in a shallow breath and smiled back. She said
nothing; merely stared back with large, dark eyes.
"Good morning," he finally spoke.
:::Thank you::: her voice echoed in his
thoughts.
:::Someday, you're going to stop thanking me
for the little things,::: he pulled his hand through
her hair and cupped the side of her face with it.
She shut her eyes and tipped forward, laying
her lips against his. They held that way, frozen in
a sort of almost-kiss until she completed the gesture
and drew her head back.
"I, um, took the liberty of checking your
messages this morning," he shrugged and she smiled.
"There were only two of them and they were for both
of us, so I didn't think you would mind."
"I don't mind," Deanna shifted onto her elbow
and placed her own head in her hand, watching him.
"The Captain wanted you to know that we were
able to return the children to the Danarian Academy
less than an hour after we beamed back on board the
Enterprise."
Riker sighed at the look in her eyes. She was
still grieving for the boy, but he knew that only a
forward focus into life would ever set her back on
the path toward moving beyond what had happened.
"That's true, Will." Troi smiled wanly. "But
you'd better not get too good at that sort of thing,
or I'll be out of a job."
He cleared his throat; self-conscious that he
had been so careless with the thought.
"As for the second message," he exhaled.
"We've been in a standard orbit around Betazed since
0800 this morning. Your mother is already on the
surface. I think we can both guess at the reason for
that."
Her expression changed. For an instant, he was
almost certain he felt a hint of surprise from her.
But what he saw in her eyes was a keen sense of
irony. "I was so looking forward to being home again
for a while," she blew out a frustrated breath.
"Listen, Deanna, if you want to postpone this,
I would completely understand." His solemn blue eyes
found her looking up at him. "The last couple of
days have been amazingly insane. For all of us."
Her brow furrowed and she frowned thoughtfully.
When she looked at him again, there was resolution in
her gaze. "I don't want to postpone this." At his
uncertain expression, she shook her head. "That
monster is not going to halt even a moment of my life
from here on in. I won't let him."
"Are you sure?" He looked worried. She
smiled.
"I'm sure." Drawing her body forward, Deanna
laid her head against his chest. "Tomorrow night.
That's what my mother had planned for, and that's
when it's going to be," her warm breath caressed his
skin and he drew his arms around her in response.
"Then it's tomorrow night." He whispered back.
"By my calculations, that only leaves us about
thirty-six hours to get ready. You'd better start
now." He grinned when she shoved him playfully. But
she did rise from the bed, smiling at his moderate
surprise.
"Actually," her voice was light. "I do have
plans for this morning."
"Oh really? Care to fill me in?"
"Nope," she raised both eyebrows.
"Okay." Riker placed both hands behind his
head and shrugged. "I can wait."
"Those three words." Troi's eyes were suddenly
serious. "They're the reason that this time is going
to be different," she whispered.
"How about these three words," He matched her
look with one of his own. "I love you, Deanna."
"That's four words," she teased.
"The last one doesn't count."
She made an incredulous sound. "It frightens
me that you actually believe that." Moving for the
door, Troi took one step toward it and then stopped.
"What did you say?" she whispered. Her body turned
and she regarded him anew.
Riker stared at her. He hadn't realized he'd
sent the thought to her, but apparently, he had. It
wasn't even in Terran Standard, it was in Betazin,
and he had surprised himself by remembering the
promise so clearly; as clearly as he suddenly
recalled the day she told him what it meant.
Deanna walked toward him, her head tipped
slightly to one side. "That's what I thought you
said," she reached the bed and climbed into his lap
without another word. Dark eyes fixed on his. "You
could never say that to me on Betazed the last time.
I remember you telling me you wouldn't say it. Not
unless you knew that you could mean it forever."
He met her gaze in silence.
:::Say it again.::: The whisper of her request
pulsed like a warm light inside his head and he found
himself powerless against it. He did as she asked.
Without a breath to spare, Deanna's mouth
brushed over his; her kisses demanded everything he'd
kept himself from showing her last night. Pulling
her closer, into his arms, he felt the weight of her
small hands kneading the muscles of his chest. Her
tongue thrust between his lips and their bodies
tumbled haphazardly onto the bed.
--o--
--------
Chapter 71
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"He was the sort of person who stood on mountaintops
during thunderstorms in wet copper armour shouting
'All the Gods are bastards.'"
--Terry Pratchett
--------
Hours after their feverish morning rendez-vous
in Deanna's quarters, Will found himself considering
the encounter. They had almost surrendered to the
crushing necessity of physical intimacy when he'd
pulled away. Deanna regarded him in confusion.
Breathless and flushed, she'd coaxed him toward her
once more. Still he demurred; whispering that they
should wait until their wedding night -- because of
the bond. Because it was more than just sex for them
this time, and because sleeping together now in a
moment of passionate abandon might inadvertently have
consequences beyond the initial physical
gratification.
He shook his head and sighed. On any other
occasion, the very idea that Will Riker would back
out of a romantic encounter might have seemed
laughable, but somewhere along the way, what mattered
to her had become far more important than what he
wanted. In this instance, he knew that she would
want to wait -- that she would regret not waiting, if
she gave it even half a thought. Not that it was
easy to think with their hands drawing rivers of
electric heat along their bodies. He nearly
shuddered in remembrance. Taking in a heady breath
of air, his gaze was drawn upward, to a plaque which
hung on the wall before him.
'And the Gods would paint the sky with crimson
brush; a wash of dancing light so that the universe
might glow into the morning.'
Riker drew his hand across its surface, tracing
each tiny engraved letter. The silvery artefact had
been fixed to this wall in the Betazoid Museum of Art
for nearly three centuries. It was carefully dusted
and polished each day; revered so that the passage of
time seemed almost trivial -- juxtaposed with such
immortality. Here was genius. Not in the art form,
but in the simple words used to describe it, enduring
long after each canvas grew faint and yellowed with
age.
"You are searching for something," a voice
behind him interrupted, and he turned. What he saw
was an elderly man, somewhere in his seventies by the
look of him. His black eyes crinkled slightly at the
edges when he smiled, and his face was friendly
enough. Staring into an expression far wiser than
his own, Riker abandoned the glib response that
automatically formed on his lips and said something
meaningful instead.
"I've already found it." He offered a crooked
smile and then winkled his brow. It was surprising
to voice such a candid rendition of a personal truth;
in the presence of a stranger no less. But it
didn't feel awkward or even the least bit
uncomfortable this time.
"Found it, you say?" The old man considered
for a moment. "Perhaps you have."
"With all due respect sir, there's not a doubt
in my mind."
"And very polite, for a human." The older
Betazoid's smile turned up at the lips. He extended
his hand in a gesture of Terran etiquette. "I am
Garion Tem." Riker took it.
"Riker," he grinned at the compliment, "William
Riker," opting to leave the rank and serial number
off of his standard introduction. That was new, too.
"Tell me, William Riker of Earth, when was it
that you last lived on Betazed?"
Will's smile didn't falter, but he tipped his
head curiously. "Last?"
Garion shrugged. "You were thinking that it is
easier being here this time. Easier than the last
time. Since you seemed so at ease with my telepathic
question earlier, I did not think you would mind
another."
Telepathic question? The words 'you are
searching for something' filtered down through his
thoughts and Riker wasn't certain whether it was just
a memory, or whether the older man had repeated
himself. Now it made sense. He had heard Garion's
remark, even though he was human -- a fact which
meant that by all rights, he should have gone on
blissfully unaware until the old man tapped him on
the shoulder. The thing was, he hadn't.
"I don't mind." Riker smiled. "Actually, to be
honest with you I didn't even realize you hadn't
spoken aloud the first time. You're right though. I
did live on Betazed. I spent two years here. Though
I obviously still have a few things to learn about
living in a telepathic society."
"You say this as though learning to hear the
voices of a telepathic species was an everyday
occurrence for a human." Garion gave his head a wry
shake.
"Well, it did teach me not to care so much
about the occasional stray thought." Will grinned.
"As for the last time I was here," his smile grew
thoughtful. "That was about eleven years ago now.
Give or take." He drew in a slow breath.
"Eleven years to your body is little more than
a heartbeat for your soul."
"Ah." Riker nodded solemnly. "I remember that
too. You're a very spiritual people."
"We choose not to limit our thought-"
"-to that which is attainable through the
physical confines of our bodies." Riker finished
with a flourish. "Eldric Ferlin."
"You quote our poetry? I am impressed." The
old man came forward and clapped Riker fondly on the
shoulder. "So? Who is she?"
"She?"
"The woman who haunts your thoughts. Whose
face you will not allow me to see, despite my
somewhat impolite attempt at prying."
"I really doubt you were being impolite. I'm
not quite vain enough to think that I could keep
anything locked away so easily." Riker laughed.
"She's my fiance. She's the reason I'm here right
now."
Garion seemed perplexed. "You are to be
married? Yet speaking of her makes you
uncomfortable."
"Okay, now you're prying." Will smiled and
shook his head.
"Which means I'm getting to the point. You can
write me off as an eccentric old man if you'd like,
young Riker, but I'm afraid I taught at the
University until my retirement. Asking difficult
questions is what I do best."
"We just met." Riker countered amicably.
"You'll have to forgive me, because I know this is
going to sound very 'human' of me, but I really
prefer not to discuss my personal life with someone
I've just met."
"Then don't." Garion shrugged. "You know," he
turned toward the painting and stood next to Will.
"I've never much cared for this one, myself. It
speaks of conflict and misunderstanding."
Riker found his gaze torn between the old man
and the work of art on the wall. His impulse should
have been to turn and walk away, but it wasn't.
Etiquette finally kicked in and he responded.
"I didn't like it either, at first. Now I'm
not so sure." He frowned self-consciously.
"Perhaps familiarity affords us a certain
amount of time to become accustomed. Life teaches us
its truths in many ways. We are exposed to a thing
and we shrink away with avarice. And then again, we
find ourselves face to face with it, only it is less
difficult this time. On the third occasion, when we
finally embrace it, we do so with the entirety of our
hearts."
"You didn't by any chance teach psychology at
the University, did you?" Riker offered Garion a
sidelong glance.
"Anthropology, as a matter of fact. My
specialization was ritual in ancient culture."
"Thank goodness." Will chuckled. "I was
beginning to think that the entire planet might have
descended from Freud."
"Your fiance is a psychologist." Tem looked
over at Riker with interest.
"A damn good one. She scares the hell out of
me sometimes," he allowed himself a rueful sigh.
"And I'll bet you scare her as well, for other
reasons. There is a great deal to be afraid of when
a person falls in love."
Riker turned and lifted an eyebrow. "Really?
I would have thought you might say just the
opposite."
"Why would you have thought that?"
"I don't know, I guess I just took you for more
of a romantic scholar."
"Well, as you mentioned, we've only just met"
Garion Tem smiled. "Then again, there is little that
is negative in the purest form of fear. Fear is
uncertainty, worry over outcome. It rests in your
heart and it makes you uncomfortable, but that does
not necessarily make it bad."
"I remember my mother used to say: 'nothing is
either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.' It's
one of the only things I remember about her."
"Your mother was wise. I am sorry she died
when you were so young. She would have had much to
teach you."
Riker cocked his head, but said nothing. He
had been thinking of the day his mother died and he
knew that he hadn't been hiding the thought either.
Garion's picking it up was hardly an actionable
offense. He simply nodded.
"Tell me, Riker, why are you here in a museum,
alone on the day before your wedding?"
"I'm -- considering life in general. I thought
it might be good to get away from my ship for a
while, and this place -- drew me. I'm not really
sure why I picked it, or what I thought I'd find
here, but you were right in a way, I did come looking
for something." He exhaled quickly and smiled.
"Deanna, my fiance," he corrected himself, "she used
to come here and she said it helped her to put things
into perspective. I decided I'd try it, see if maybe
this time things would look different."
"Do they?" Tem tipped his head.
Riker laughed and dropped his shoulders
helplessly. "Still a bunch of goopy paint swirls."
"But you're not here for the painting."
Riker looked over at Garion for a moment and
then smiled. "It's been a pleasure meeting you
Professor Tem."
"Emeritus." The older man corrected with a wry
flash in his eye. "When you see her," the old man
continued, "please, tell Ambassador Troi that she was
correct. That I approve, and that she will have all
that she requested."
Riker turned in surprise and had been about to
ask Garion how he knew Lwaxana Troi, but the older
man was already headed down the hallway in the
opposite direction. He might have called after him,
demanded to know what the Troi matriarch had
requested and why, but for some reason Riker felt
compelled to let him go. He stood in silence and
watched as the professor made his way through the
corridor. His step belied an almost regal grace that
was oddly familiar. Had he seen Garion Tem before
this morning? Will's expression transformed into a
thoughtful frown.
--o--
--------
Chapter 72
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The life which is unexamined is not worth living."
--Plato
--------
"Deanna, can I see you for a moment?" Beverly
Crusher ducked her head out of her office just in
time to catch Counselor Troi's departure from sick-
bay with a young ensign and a little girl in tow.
The child had been absent from school for several
days and it was her mother's opinion that she was
faking the illness in order to avoid contact with one
of the other students. Deanna had been about to
bring the little girl home and sit down with their
whole family when the doctor appeared.
"Can this wait a while, Bev?" she threw over
her shoulder.
"I'd rather it didn't. Can you catch up with
Ensign Marshal?"
Sighing softly, Troi turned to the young mother
and asked if she could meet the two of them back at
their quarters in fifteen minutes. With a nod and a
smile, ensign Marshal agreed and left with her
daughter.
"Okay. What's up?" Troi turned and marched
purposefully into her friend's office.
"Have you seen Will this morning?"
"Not for a while." A slight blush crept into
the Counselor's features and Crusher noted it with a
small measure of amusement.
"He transported down to the surface,
apparently. I wondered if he told you where he was
going."
"He's on Betazed?" Troi looked surprised.
"Yeah." Beverly's eyes narrowed. "You didn't
know? Wouldn't you be able to sense a change in
proximity like that?"
Deanna's focus sharpened and she offered
Crusher a pointed glance. "I've been in appointments
all morning. I guess I just hadn't thought about him
in a little while." Her eyes widened. "Beverly, I
can sense him as strongly as though he were still on
this ship," she shook her head in amazement.
"Well, that's what marriage is initially going
to be like." Crusher smiled. "A whole universe full
of firsts, some of them more welcome than others."
"I didn't realize the link would be this strong
right away," she whispered, more to herself than her
friend. "We haven't even completed it yet."
"He's definitely down there." The doctor
continued on as though she hadn't heard Deanna's
remark, moving from the doorway of her office to her
desk. "If you aren't sure where he is and he didn't
log the trip, then maybe I should just leave him be
for a while."
"He's all right." The Counselor's expression
took on a far-off countenance and she frowned
slightly.
"What is it?"
"Nothing important." Troi shrugged.
"Deanna-"
"Beverly, I can't very well share every emotion
I sense. Especially from Will." She admonished.
Crusher sighed. "You're right. I shouldn't
have asked."
"I know you're only concerned about him. And
you're always looking out for us." Troi afforded her
friend an understanding smile. "Just trust me this
time."
"I do." Beverly smiled back. "When you see
him again, would you tell him I'm looking for him?
He still hasn't stopped by since the incident on
Ony'am and he's not getting out of it again, no
matter what he says."
"I'll tell him." Deanna smirked and turned
to the doorway once more. Getting Will Riker into
sickbay was at best, an exasperating and thoroughly
enervating task; at worst it was damn near
impossible. But Beverly was about as persistent as
they came. Even the indomitable Commander found it
difficult to ignore her requests-turned-orders after
a while.
"Wait a second," Crusher called out, halting
the Counselor's progress. "Will's not the reason I
called you in here." She held out her hand. "Take a
look at this. I've had it since yesterday, but I
wanted to make sure." Crusher handed Troi a data
PADD and she took it, skimming the document's
contents briefly. She looked from the PADD to
Beverly and back again.
"Is this right?" Deanna clamped her mouth shut
and stared at the computer in her hand.
"I've checked it three times. It's right."
Troi exhaled softly. "Okay," she nodded almost
absently. "Thank you."
"Thank you? That's all you're going to say?"
Crusher leaned back against her desk and regarded the
empath seriously.
"What else would you like me to say?"
"I don't know, I just thought this might
deserve more of a response than "okay". Guess I was
wrong." The doctor frowned. "You do know what the
odds are?"
"I really need to go, Beverly. Ensign Marshal
and Emily are waiting for me." Troi looked away,
stepping out of the office toward the sick-bay
entrance. She held the PADD in her hand and
continued to stare at its contents.
"Just do me a favor," the doctor continued with
a solemn expression, "come back and see me when you
have more to say than 'okay'."
Deanna didn't respond. She left without
another word; eyes still focused on the small
computer as she disappeared from view. Crusher
sighed.
"Okay," her voice was soft.
--o--
--------
Chapter 73
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"You could live a perfectly normal life if you were
simply willing to live a perfectly normal life."
--Q, Star Trek: Voyager
--------
"Little one!" Lwaxana Troi shoved past the
towering manservant at her front door and gathered
her daughter into her arms. "You're finally here! I
was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten." Off
Deanna's look of incredulous annoyance, she beamed.
"Where's William? Isn't he with you? No, wait, he
wouldn't be with you. Not if he was in the museum
earlier this morning..."
"Mother, will you slow down for a moment? And
back up." Troi shook her head. "Will was in the
museum this morning? What was he doing in the
museum?"
"Well, how am I supposed to know?" The older
Troi huffed, "he certainly didn't stop by the estate
on his way over." She frowned convincingly.
Deanna smiled knowingly. "I'm sure he was
going to be by later on."
"Funny you should say that. That's precisely
what Garion Tem said as well! He bumped into Will at
the museum." Her black eyes sparkled while Deanna's
head moved back in surprise.
"Garion Tem was here?"
:::You're just full of questions this
afternoon, little one. Of course he was here, he's
going to be officiating your wedding. Isn't that
wonderful?:::
With her mother's telepathic voice still
echoing inside her mind, Troi froze where she stood.
:::Mother, that's impossible. Garion Tem would never
officiate a wedding unless-- oh, mother, tell me you
didn't!:::
:::I will do nothing of the sort, Deanna.:::
The Troi matriarch admonished. :::If you must know,
it was Garion's suggestion. He approached me. I
only had one or two additional requests. They were
small things, really.:::
"Somehow I doubt that very strongly."
Switching to Terran Standard, Deanna placed her hands
akimbo on her hips. "And how is it that Garion Tem
managed to 'accidentally' bump into Will at the
museum today?"
"I haven't the foggiest." Lwaxana shrugged.
"Ohh, Mother, there are times when I could
simply...!" Her hands fisted at her sides and Deanna
marched angrily past Mr. Homn. Moving gracefully
to one side, the manservant regarded both women in
stoic silence.
"Well, really darling. Garion was absolutely
enchanted with William. He said that Will responded
to his telepathic greeting without a moment's
hesitation!" The older Troi raised one eyebrow.
"How do you suppose that might be, Little One?"
Deanna's eyes betrayed her moderate surprise,
but she said nothing aloud. :::You set him up,
Mother.::: her angry mental voice rebuked.
"You're right. I did." Lwaxana met her
daughter's expression of challenge with an exact
duplicate. "And he passed the test with flying
colors." Her lip curled into a smile. "He even
quoted Eldric Ferlin. Or so I'm told."
Deanna sighed loudly. "What you did this
morning was wrong, mother. I would have thought by
now you might have accepted that Will and I are never
going to fit into that -- perfect little package
you've got all lined up for us. If you still feel
that way, then maybe we should be married on board
the Enterprise." Her sharp gaze found the older
woman's before she added, "alone."
"What? Deanna, you can't be serious..."
"Try me, mother. One more stunt like that, and
I promise you that this wedding is off. Will and I
will be married somewhere else. Some other time."
She shook her head. "I am not the same naive girl I
once was. And I will not allow you to manipulate my
future. Not even for an instant. Is that clear?"
Lwaxana's eyes widened. She tipped her head
backward and met her daughter's dead serious
expression. "Very," she muttered.
"Good." Troi exhaled softly. "Now if you'll
excuse me, I'm going to find Will. I have some
explaining to do on your behalf. I can only hope
that he won't be as angry about this as I am."
The older woman frowned. :::You do what you
have to do, Little One. You can fight this all you
like, but you're making a mistake. And sooner or
later you're going to realize it. I'm not asking you
to give up your career or Will's. This transcends
those sorts of trivialities.:::
Deanna's dark gaze locked with Lwaxana's in
silence. Until the Counselor turned on her heel and
marched out through the open front door.
:::William deserves to know who we are!::: The
Ambassador called after her daughter. :::Even if you
refuse to accept it.:::
Pausing at the end of the front walk, Deanna
placed her hand to her forehead and shut her eyes.
She sighed deeply.
--o--
--------
Chapter 74
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"What you can do, or dream you can do, begin it;
boldness has genius, power and magic in it."
--Johann von Goethe
--------
There was nothing so inherently filled with
paradox as the crashing of a great sea's waves
against the swell of land. Walking slowly over the
warm sand, Riker marveled at the shift of color he
saw in the sky. In many ways, Betazed was a great
deal like Earth. Both planets were M-Class and
supported very similar species whose evolutions had
undoubtedly moved along very similar avenues of
progression.
A million years, a billion to the power of ten,
and suddenly they were soaring through the stars on
ships which broke the boundaries of warp. And
suddenly a cocky young lieutenant from Earth was
falling in love with a brilliant, eternally serious
psychology student whose planet was nearly a hundred
light years distant of his own. Was something like
that ascribable to fate? Or destiny. Or maybe, there
truly was a power far greater which moved the
universe aside, pushing everything out of the way
until they found each other.
Then again, maybe he was turning into just the
sort of melodramatic fool he always swore he'd never
become.
Smirking to himself, Riker dropped into the
sand and sifted a handful of it through his fingers.
He stared out at the distant horizon, comparing its
colors to those he remembered from Earth. They
really weren't that different at all. Only a little.
Just enough to remind him of the fact. His eyes
relaxed and he placed his hands behind him for
support, leaning backward in the waning evening
light.
It was long moments later when he finally
looked away; when his gaze traveled along the beach
and he saw a small figure approaching. Her long,
blonde hair billowed behind her with every step she
took and when she reached his position, a pair of
dark obsidian eyes regarded him thoughtfully.
"Is this yours?" She asked, holding out a
delicate hand. He stared at the tiny Starfleet
communicator in her grasp and then down at his shirt
where the device had been fixed. It was gone.
"I think so, yes." Riker took the offered pin
carefully from her palm. She was about the most
beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life -- and she
couldn't have been more than seven years old. Her
dark eyes were enormous; the color of midnight and
her small face appeared as though it should belong to
a porcelain doll. Someday, she would grow up and
break at least a hundred hearts. He sighed ruefully
and smiled. "Where did you find it?"
"Over by those rocks." She spoke in an animated
voice and smiled precociously. "When the sun gets
like this at the end of the day, all the shiny things
start to sparkle. I was collecting sea shells that
sparkle. Would you like to see?" Her smile
brightened. Without waiting for an invitation, she
dropped to a crouch in the sand and began rifling
through a delicate mesh bag. "These are the nicest
ones." She drew a small handful of shimmering orbs
from the sack. "They're like buried treasure, only
the water washes them up in the sand when the tide
comes in at night."
"They're very beautiful." He concurred with a
grin. "But if you're going to show me all your
treasure, shouldn't we introduce ourselves first?"
The girl's tiny features fell and she frowned
apologetically. "I'm sorry. I forgot. My name is
Olestra. My mother says that humans aren't
telepathic and it's bad manners to read their
thoughts without asking. I forgot." She offered him
a sheepish smile. "Your name is Riker. It's your
last name, but you use it like a first name when
you're on a ship up there." Her small hand extended
and she pointed at the colorful sky.
"From the mouth of babes." Riker chuckled
softly. "My friends call me Will."
"Will," Olestra tested the name and then nodded
approvingly. "That's a good name."
"Thanks. I think so too." He grinned back.
"My mother says that its impolite to listen in
on a human's thoughts. I didn't really mean to, you
won't tell her will you?"
"Nah. It'll be our secret." Riker flashed her
an amused glance and dug a nearby shell out of the
sand. He hadn't realized it until now, but the beach
was filled with them. Olestra suddenly dropped her
bag and sat down next to him, folding her hands
serenely in her lap. He threw her an odd look for
the gesture was one Deanna often used. On the little
girl, it looked amazingly similar -- only smaller.
He had to smile.
"Are humans sad?" she asked, staring at him
frankly. "You don't look sad, but I would be sad if
I couldn't hear my mother's thoughts." Her brow
furrowed and she extracted the shell from his hand,
turning it over.
"No, I don't think humans are sad. Not about
that, anyway." Riker glanced out at the horizon.
"Where I grew up, no one can hear anyone else's
thoughts. That's pretty normal for us."
The little girl nodded sagely. "In school,
we're learning how to read thoughts the right way.
My teacher says it's not right to just listen. You
have to train your mind. In a few years, I'm even
going to be able to block my mother!" She beamed.
Riker couldn't help the short laugh that escaped his
lungs.
"I'll bet that'll come in handy."
"I have to practice reading first, though.
Only my mother doesn't like it when I practice on her
while she's working. Can I practice on you? If I
ask permission, then it's not bad manners is it?"
Riker exhaled and looked down at the little
girl. He paused for a moment and then dropped his
shoulders. "Why not," he nodded.
She grinned. :::Mother says humans can't
always hear our thoughts when we project.:::
:::Try me.::: He winked at her.
:::You aren't supposed to be able to do
that!::: Olestra's laughter inside his head was
ticklish and he felt like rubbing his skull. He
shrugged instead. The little girl's eyes focused
on him and she thinned her lips. :::Your full name
is William Thomas Riker.:::
Riker smiled but said nothing.
:::You're the Commander of a big ship in
Starfleet.::: Her eyes narrowed. :::You lived on
Betazed before! A really long time ago.:::
He cringed. What was the definition of a
'really long time' to a seven year old?
:::I'm not seven!::: Olestra threw a small
handful of sand at him. :::I'm eight!:::
:::Sorry.::: He sent back good-naturedly.
:::You're getting married tomorrow. That's why
you're here.::: Her dark eyes widened :::You're
getting married to Deanna Troi?::: "Mother's going
to flip!"
"Why's that?" He switched methods of
communication along with her.
"Deanna Troi is a daughter of the Fifth House.
My mother says that the ten Houses are all we have
left on Betazed of the old traditions. She says that
when they're gone, we won't remember who we were
anymore."
Riker glanced down at her seriously. A comment
like that certainly wouldn't have come from an eight
year old. Her mother must have spoken of the issue
fairly often to have made such an impact on her
daughter.
:::Your mother died.::: Olestra suddenly
gasped. :::She died when you were three. It made
you very sad.::: The child's eyes filled with
empathetic teardrops. :::I'm sorry that she died.:::
"That was a long time ago," Will provided
gently. "What you're feeling now is an old memory.
It doesn't make me sad that way anymore." Placing
his hand against the girl's hair, he mussed it
gently. "I'll bet your teacher is going to show you
how to separate those kinds of feelings too."
She nodded mutely and blinked back her
teardrops. "Thank you for letting me practice on
you."
"You're welcome Olestra." He nodded
thoughtfully, grateful for the fact that she had
somehow known not to go any further with the
exercise. They were quiet for a moment and her dark
eyes regarded him frankly. There was wisdom behind
her gaze which belied her youth. He handed her
another shell he'd picked up and smiled warmly. "I
have a feeling that someday you're going to grow up
and do something very important with your life."
"I want to be a psychologist!" Olestra beamed,
and Riker couldn't conceal his automatic grin.
"Really? Is that a global occupation for this
planet?"
"What's a global occupation?" She wrinkled her
nose.
"Never mind," he laughed.
"A global occupation," came a lilting voice
from behind them, "is something an entire planet does
when they go to work each day. It's not a practical
possibility. I think that he was teasing you."
Riker and Olestra turned simultaneously and the
little girl's eyes traveled up and down the length of
the new arrival's body. "You're Deanna Troi." Her
mouth hung open.
"That's true." Deanna smiled brilliantly and
dropped into the sand without ceremony, leaning
against the child in a familiar manner even though it
was clear the two had never met before. Then again,
Riker noted inwardly, Deanna had always expressed a
natural affinity with children. She seemed to know
what they would respond to without ever having to
guess. Part of that came from her training as a
Counselor, but another part, he was sure, was simply
a gift. "And what's your name?" Troi looked
directly at Olestra when she spoke. Riker watched
them both with an expression of amusement.
The truth was, Deanna hadn't given him a second
glance from the moment she arrived, but he could feel
her presence like a ripple of warmth throughout his
entire body. She might as well have wrapped her arms
around his neck and pulled them both into an intimate
embrace. In a way, that was exactly what she'd
done. He exhaled slowly, chiding himself for
allowing her gesture to affect him so strongly; he
hadn't even realized how much he'd missed her touch
until just this moment. Had it really only been a
few hours?
"Can't you read my thoughts?" Olestra's large
eyes focused on Deanna, but the Counselor merely
wrinkled her brow and tapped the girl gently on the
nose with her index finger.
"I'm an empath. I can't read unless you send."
"Neither can he." Olestra pointed at Will, who
grinned at the imposition. "My name's Olestra."
"He can read if you send?" This time, Deanna
did afford Riker a glance over the girl's shoulder.
He shrugged while the little girl nodded
emphatically.
"Yes! He was helping me practice. My mother
won't let me practice on her while she works, so he
said that it was okay. It was only for a little
while..." Her gaze scanned the two adults as though
she were uncertain whether or not she would be in
trouble. Troi smiled down at her.
"It was very polite of you to ask first,
Olestra."
The girl smiled back, but Deanna was already
regarding Riker strangely. He cleared his throat.
"Olestra was showing me the shells she found," he
changed the subject, "she has quite a collection."
"You don't mind, do you?" Olestra's gaze
shifted from Riker to Troi and back again. "I only
took a few for my collection."
"I don't mind." Deanna shrugged. "You can
gather as many as you'd like."
"Thanks! This is great! Wait till I tell my
mother, she never lets me come down here, but now
that I have your permission," Olestra hopped to her
feet and dusted the sand from her pant legs. "I'm
going to collect a bunch more."
"Olestra," Deanna cut in just as the girl was
about to take off down the beach again. "What's your
family name?"
"Pern!" The girl called back.
"Tell your mother I'd love to see you both at
our wedding. I'll put your family name on the list,
and she can contact the house if she has any
questions." Troi grinned at the girl's excited wave
and then watched her run off down the shoreline until
she disappeared from view. The Counselor sighed
then, placing both hands behind her back in a posture
similar to Riker's. She reclined next to him in
silence.
"She's a beautiful child." Deanna finally
spoke.
"That she is." Riker threw her a sidelong
glance and a smile. "She's going to be a
heartbreaker someday."
"Why are you so pensive?" Troi turned and
tucked her legs beneath her. She had done it. She
had asked the question, now all she had to do was
wait for the answer. Easier said than done.
Riker sighed audibly. "Oh, geez Deanna, I
don't know," he shook his head. "It isn't because
I'm having second thoughts, if that's what you mean."
Troi dropped her gaze and traced an abstract
figure with her finger in the sand. "Now you're
making me pensive," she tipped her head and offered
him a wry smile.
"Why would Olestra need your permission to
gather seashells?" He turned toward her.
"Ah. There it is." Deanna exhaled slowly.
She'd known the question was coming even before he
voiced it. Still she found herself considering her
response. "I suppose that would be because the Fifth
House owns all of the land west of the Janaran Sea."
Riker was taken aback. He looked around him, eyes
scanning the horizon from one end to the other. "All
of this is yours? There must be hundreds of
kilometers."
"My mother owns it, actually." Deanna nodded,
still tracing in the sand. "There's more than this.
Only not on this continent."
"Which eventually, is going to be yours." He
shifted where he sat, regarding her fully.
"Eventually," she looked up at him and locked
her gaze with his. "It will be ours."
Riker broke her gaze, saying nothing. He
looked out over the swell of the waves.
"Will-" Deanna placed her hand against his
arm, but he lifted it gently free, laughing ruefully.
"Deanna, you know I spent a great portion of my
childhood growing up in a log cabin on Earth." His
blue eyes fixed on her. "My dad and I had everything
we ever needed, don't get me wrong, but it's just
that I can't help thinking -- the only property I
have to my name is a house I bought when I made full
Commander. I've only been there twice." He shook
his head slowly, "and you could probably fit a
hundred thousand houses just like it right here along
this beach."
"That doesn't matter to me." Her dark eyes
flashed.
"I know. Hell, Deanna I believe you. We've
been friends long enough." He dropped his gaze. "I
just feel as though every time I get to know you
better -- just when I thought for sure there was
nothing else we could possibly discover about one
another -- I find out that you're even more important
to this planet, to a whole planet Deanna, than a lot
of people ever find importance in their entire
lives." She looked as though she was about to speak
but he belayed her comment with a continuance. "I
could die tomorrow, Dea, and I know that there would
be a select few people whose lives would change
because of it. But you? Deanna, if you were gone,
it would affect an entire world. Maybe-" he
swallowed. "Sometimes I think maybe your mother was
right."
"That is so unfair." Troi snapped at him, but
she looked to be on the edge of tears. "I can't help
what I was born to any more than you can. And we
have no real power anymore. The Houses are nothing
more than a bunch of bickering old traditionalists
who refuse to move on with reality. Well, I don't
want it." She shook her head adamantly. "I don't
want any of it. I've told my mother and anyone else
who would listen. What I want is on board the
Enterprise, with the crew and my family there. What
I need -- is to be with you, wherever that is."
"God Deanna," Riker leaned forward, placing his
forehead against hers and his hand against her cheek.
"I know that. I've known that forever. But maybe
its important for you to take a good look at what you
mean here. I don't mean to change your life on a
whim, but just to see it through the eyes of these
people. Neither one of us are kids anymore.
There's a reason we've made the choices we have, but
there has to be a point to it all in the final
analysis, or we're lost. You love your people, don't
you?"
"Of course I do." There were genuine tears in
her eyes and he brushed at them tenderly.
"Then I want you to listen to me carefully."
Will exhaled and shut his eyes. "I will marry you,
and spend the rest of my life loving you, no matter
where we are." His eyes opened on hers and he let
his words hang in the air for a moment. "I want you
to know that. We don't have to be in Starfleet to be
together. I want you to understand that."
Deanna's mouth fell open and she regarded him
in stunned silence. "You mean that," she finally
whispered, "you would give up everything in your
life, for me?"
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you,
Sparks." He smiled at her upturned lip. "But it
wouldn't be giving up my life. It would be --
expanding it. Walking in a new direction, with you.
That's not a sacrifice for me. Not anymore. I've
been fortunate enough to have the kind of career most
Starfleet officers can only hope for. And I'm
content with that."
Troi's eyes wandered over his features as
though she were searching for something intangible.
She pulled her mouth shut and swallowed. "I can't
leave Starfleet. My calling. Not now. Maybe not
ever." Her voice was quiet. "My mother understands
that. She doesn't adore the idea, but she
understands the reasons why."
"Not now." His crystal blue gaze settled on her
dark one. "But maybe someday."
Deanna shut her eyes and sighed. "Come with
me, Imzadi." Lifting her body from the sand, Troi
rose to her feet and extended her hand toward him.
He let her help him up and then lifted his arm around
her shoulder when they were both standing. Riker
pulled her against him, dusting his lips briefly atop
her head.
"Where to?" he looked down at her expectantly.
"I have something to show you." The two
officers turned in unison and walked slowly along the
water's edge.
--o--
--------
Chapter 75
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"They sicken of the calm, who know the storm."
--Dorothy Parker
--------
A fiery crimson ball descended farther into the
glassy surface of the horizon with every step Riker
and Troi took forward. Neither one of them had
spoken a great deal since they'd started walking,
beyond the occasional communication through a nearly
completed link. Riker held her hand in his, and when
they had been silent for more than several minutes,
he squeezed it.
"So, do you -- ever get fan mail?" His voice
was light, teasing, and she rolled her eyes.
"Not exactly." Affording him a sidelong smile,
Deanna bumped him with her shoulder. "We get
letters, but they're mostly very serious. Like I
said, we really don't have any true power. The
governing body of Betazed is under the guidance of
the elected Chancellor. She makes all the political
decisions. The ten Houses are really just figure-
heads."
"But you can't tell me that if you'd stayed
here and not run off to join Starfleet, you wouldn't
be an Ambassador by now yourself." He winked at her.
"Ambassador?" Deanna huffed. "Whose to say I
wouldn't be vice Chancellor?"
"I beg your pardon, vice Chancellor.." Riker's
grin lit up his features. "I used to wonder why you
did leave." His voice sobered.
"You mean besides the fact that I wanted to be
a psychologist more than anything?" Deanna tipped her
head.
"You could have been a psychologist right
here."
"True." She frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose
I -- needed to find myself. I needed to escape my
mother's influence. And once I did that, I never
wanted to go back." Her frown shifted. "I do love
my mother, of course. And I love Betazed, but, it
just seemed as though my purpose was out there,
somewhere." She looked up at the first of the stars
which peppered the dusky sky. "It always has seemed
that way, even now."
"Even now that you're back here. You still
feel as though you belong up there?" Riker turned
toward her and halted their progress. She nodded
slowly.
"I can't explain it, any more than I'm certain
you can explain the way you feel about it. But I
know that we share the same feeling. We're
explorers, both of us, and in a way -- that's always
been a catalyst which drew our spirits together."
Riker exhaled a short laugh. "It's been one
hell of a journey so far, Counselor, hasn't it?"
"Yes," she smiled back at him. "And maybe
you're right. Maybe someday, one or both of us will
feel it's time to look planetside again. But we
don't have to decide that today, or even tomorrow. I
don't think we should."
Riker looked down on her for a long time. He
finally nodded. "Starfleet may force that decision
out of our hands anyway once we're married. But
okay."
Deanna glanced down at her shoes for an
instant. "There was...one other reason that I left,"
her eyes lifted and met with his. "You." Troi's lip
curled into a smirk. "All of the breeding and
guidance of a fiercely matriarchal society and I
still couldn't breathe when I thought of my life
without you in it." She wrinkled her nose at his
smile. "When I left to join Starfleet, I wasn't sure
whether to feel disgusted with myself or proud, at
first. So I threw myself into my studies -- at least
that was something I knew I could excel at -- and by
the time I graduated near the top of my class, I had
moved beyond moderately convinced into fairly certain
-- that I would love you forever." She made a small
sound and shook her head. "So much for time and
absence."
When she looked at him again, Riker was
watching her in silence. She offered him a puzzled
frown. "You're feeling relieved?"
"Ego." He chuckled ruefully. "A hundred and
ten percent ego, Deanna. Because I don't even want
to tell you how many times I turned down my own ship
so that I could stay on board the Enterprise; because
I couldn't lose you again."
"I knew," she muttered sullenly.
"No, you didn't." Riker nodded to himself.
"Eleven times."
"Eleven?" Her expression lifted and she looked
at him as though he'd grown a third eye. "Are you
crazy?"
"Apparently." He winked at her.
"You could have asked me to come with you. If
you'd just been able to swallow your pride for five
minutes. I would have said yes." Her dark eyes
flashed at the admonishment. "You must know how this
looks to Fleet Command? What if they don't offer you
another commission?"
"Then they don't." He was smiling when he
shrugged. "For all I care, you can be Captain of the
next ship we move to."
"Oh, there's a tremendous thought!" Troi
laughed helplessly. "I'll have to frame that one for
posterity."
"I'm serious, Deanna."
She threw him an incredulous look. "Did you hit
your head, Will? You were born to command a
Starship."
"And you were born to sit at the head of the
Fifth House of Betazed." He cocked his head for
emphasis. "Maybe we're both going to walk a
different pathway."
"Garion Tem stopped by the Fifth House this
morning," she blurted; uncertain of the reason even
as the words left her lips.
"Garion--Professor Tem, Emeritus," Riker added
the tag of the older man's title with emphasis and a
grin. "I met him at the museum this morning."
"Yes. He was a professor for many years at the
University." Deanna paused and then cleared her
throat softly. "He's also the only living survivor
of the First House of Betazed, and he's going to be
officiating our wedding."
"Really?" Will seemed to consider. "I didn't
know that."
"Well, there's even more to that story, which
is part of the reason I brought you here." She
smiled uncertainly.
Glancing up for the first time since they'd
stopped, Riker noticed that they had left the sandy
beach behind and now stood on the outskirts of mid-
sized forest. Enormous branches towered overhead.
"That's why we're in a forest, you mean?"
"No silly." She giggled. "We're in a forest
because I wanted us to have a little privacy. There
are always people moving along that beach. In here,
we'll be all by ourselves."
Riker's eyebrow rose. "Privacy? And just what
exactly did you have in mind to show me?"
He thought that she might laugh at the
innuendo, but she didn't. Instead Deanna's bright
eyes stared up at him, quietly contemplative. She
sighed softly. Breaking their gaze, Troi reached
within the folds of her casual civilian outfit and
extracted a data PADD. She held it aloft toward him.
Riker took the proffered computer, lifting it
gently from her grasp. He continued to watch her,
but as he drew the instrument toward himself, his
eyes dropped and he switched it on. A telltale beep
accompanied his request and Troi observed him in
silence while he read the screen.
And read the screen.
And read the screen again.
His eyes finally rose; drifting back and forth
between the data PADD and Deanna's muted expression.
"Sparks," a nearly inaudible whisper trickled
through his lips. "You're-" She nodded, eyes locked
with his. He exhaled sharply and she could see the
rise and fall of his throat when he swallowed.
"There's no question? No mistake?" He
regretted the words as they tumbled from his lips,
cringing when he felt a thin wall of emotion shatter
around her. She turned away from him. "No, no, no,"
he came up behind her and drew her back toward his
chest, wrapping his arms below her chin, he hugged
her body. "that's not what I meant." She allowed
the physical contact but didn't respond; not with her
voice and not through their link. "Imzadi," he tried
again, breathing the word against the side of her
hair. "I just -- this is -- big. This is -- huge."
"I know." Her quiet voice came back to him.
"It should have been impossible. We were both taking
the inhibitor. Beverly ran the test three times.
I'm only a week along, it was probably a fluke that
she even caught it, but she did a complete profile on
me after we got back from Ony'am. Certain levels were
elevated, so she double checked them."
Riker shut his eyes and let out a slow breath,
struggling with a kaleidoscope of conflicting
emotion. He knew that she would sense it; all of it,
and that it would probably confuse her as much or
more than it did him, but he felt powerless to keep
it hidden from her, so he didn't even try.
"I should have warned you. I knew that this
could happen." Troi froze when she felt his arms
release her body; when he took a step backward and
his confusion intensified.
"What do you mean, you knew?"
She turned slowly where she stood, until
finally they were face to face again. "With the bond
unstable the way that it was, it was possible that
the inhibitors wouldn't function correctly. On
Betazed, there is a saying that a child is not
predicted by the parents, but that the spirit of the
child chooses instead." She met and held his gaze.
"So you're saying that our -- link -- had an
adverse affect on the biochemical function of the
inhibitors, even though we were up to date?"
"I'm saying that's the only explanation we have
right now. You and I were not exactly careful about
when and where we shared our bodies while the link
was making us both a little crazy," a hint of color
crept into her face.
"Oh, God," Riker sighed, pulling his hands
through his hair.
"You're not ready for this. I know that. You
weren't expecting it." She was staring at him with
eyes larger than he'd ever seen before. It made his
throat tighten into a ball and his heart twist with
the knowledge that he was irreparably hurting her
with every breath of silence he allowed. Even so, he
couldn't force himself to say the things she wanted
to hear. Riker tore his gaze away from her eyes;
enormous, dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
He couldn't bring himself to say a single damn thing.
Troi watched him several moments longer before
she nodded. Pressing her lips together, she turned
away and began walking back in the direction they'd
come from. Alone. With her back to Riker, she
began speaking. "Garion Tem would like to make our
first child the heir to the First House of Betazed."
She spoke softly, aware that he could hear her even
so. "He's going to ask for my mother's permission to
merge the legacy of his family with ours. That is an
ancient custom of ours. But neither of them knows
that I'm pregnant already." She paused where she
stood for only a moment. "Now I've told you. Now
you know." Her hair shifted in the breeze and it was
clear that her shoulders were shaking.
When she began to move forward once more, Riker
remained where he stood; unable to follow, unable to
speak the words in his heart over the screaming of
his head. He dropped both hands to his sides,
clenching them into fists. And he watched her walk
away, treading down the well-worn forest pathway
while he stood in the shifting shadows, alone with
the wind.
--o--
--------
Chapter 76
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"My religion consists of a humble admiration of the
illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in
the slight details we are able to perceive with our
frail and feeble minds."
--Albert Einstein
--------
Only a few minutes after Deanna had gone,
Will's thoughts coalesced. His emotions solidified
and the sensation of being terrifyingly unprepared
shattered around him. Confusion melted into fear;
but hadn't Garion Tem said that fear was not
necessarily such a horrible thing?
Riker's eyes scanned the pathway for any trace
the woman whose heartbreak sliced into his own
spirit. She had moved well out of sight already; she
was probably half way down the beach by now.
Clutching his resolve, he took off down the
pathway after her.
*
Gliding over the sand at a brisk pace, Deanna
pawed angrily at her blurring vision. Unwilling to
run, unable to walk any more slowly, Troi struggled
to block the emotion she knew he could feel. He
hadn't wanted to have a child so quickly, that much
was painfully clear. But damn it, neither did she!
Did he think that it was any easier for her to look
at those test results? Did he feel that she had been
planning this all along? They hadn't even been
married yet! But it was her body that was going to
change; her life that would be altered regardless --
with, or without his blessing.
Stumbling over her shoe, she bent down and
yanked them both from her feet, tossing them
carelessly aside. The warm sand had begun to cool
from the afternoon heat and the feeling of it on her
skin was the only pleasant sensation in her body as
she continued forward.
Her mind focused sharply on another angry
thought when suddenly she stopped. Will's emotions
were different. She could feel the shift in the
moment it occurred; feel the sense of conflict and
unwillingness transform into helpless fear. A fear
so deep it nearly made her gasp.
He wasn't bitter about the baby. He was
terrified. And the fear he felt had nothing to do
with his own person; it was entirely focused on her
and the child. What could possibly be scaring him
that much?
Frozen in place, she opened her thoughts to
him; no longer caring about pettiness or anger, she
let her mind slide toward his, hoping to gather some
sense of why she was suddenly certain she should
never have left him in that forest the way she had.
She had been nervous and desperately hurt by
his initial response, but she should have known
better. She was a Counselor after all, and she
hadn't given him more than an instant to breath
before leaping to the conclusion that he was unhappy
with the possibility. It wasn't fair. She herself
had been able to hold that data PADD in her hand for
nearly three hours before she saw him. She'd been
able to think about what it contained.
She'd given Will all of two minutes.
Turning in her tracks, she started back toward
the woods. Her heart hammered against the inside of
her chest when she felt a sense of painful urgency
invade his thoughts. She had backtracked several
meters when her eyes scanned the outskirts of the
giant trees and he emerged from their canopy at
nearly a run.
Their eyes locked, his heartbeat matched her
own. Deanna stopped, then started toward him again,
her footsteps sinking into the warm sand as her walk
became a run. He met her half way, bridging the
distance between them in a dozen strides.
Troi's small body crushed against his chest,
she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her
face into the fabric of his shirt, gasping for breath
and crying openly. Her teardrops soaked his garment,
but he was heedless of it; drawing his hands around
her so that he completely enveloped her.
Riker held her fiercely; eyes shut, the side of
his face dusting the top of her head. He rocked her
slight body back and forth where they stood.
"You're afraid," she mumbled against him.
"You're afraid of hurting me, or the baby. Why are
you afraid?" Her head lifted from the warmth of his
chest.
"I don't know how to be a father," he
confessed. "Deanna," his blue eyes found her
watching him. "I hated my own father for most of my
life. I grew up with a man who didn't have time for
me and didn't care enough to tell his own son that he
loved him. How am I going to be any kind of example
for a child of my own? I don't even know what it
takes to be a dad." His eyes burned with the weight
of the truth and Deanna bit down on her lip, reaching
up with both hands to take his face between them.
"You are not your father, Will. The man you
are is nothing like the man he was."
"Maybe not," he conceded grudgingly. "but that
doesn't mean that I'd be any better at it than he
was. For all I know, it's a genetic Riker flaw."
His expression fell and he looked away.
"It is *not* a flaw." Deanna turned his face
back toward her. "You are capable of so much love.
I can feel it inside you. You don't have to know
what to do," she exhaled ruefully. "I don't know
what to do either. But we'll figure it out.
Together, we can figure it out." Her dark eyes
punched a hole into his soul and his breath quickened
in his throat.
His jaw set and his blue eyes hardened with
resolve. "I love you." He took her hands from his
face and held them both between his.
"I know," she whispered, moving solidly into
his embrace. She felt his lips brush the top of her
hair and she tipped her head, standing on her toes
and sealing her mouth over his.
He tasted her slowly, savoring the contact as
though it were their first. His hands lifted, one on
either side of her face as he separated from the
kiss, eyes shut. "I love you," he repeated, and
before she could register even a moment of surprise
over the uncharacteristic gesture, she saw the tears
which slipped unbidden from beneath his lowered lids.
Unexpectedly for both of them, his knees seemed to
give where he was standing and he pulled her down
with him. They knelt together, face to face in the
sand.
His eyes opened, shining with a kind of emotion
she had never seen before. He was raw and open to
her in a way she'd never known; the trust it must
have taken for him to show this much was
overwhelming. Deanna swallowed and drew him toward
her, pressing her face and her lips against his.
Their breath mingled, their tears combined and she
kissed him tenderly. "I know," she whispered again
and again. "I know."
--o--
--------
Chapter 77
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Some things cannot be spoken or discovered until we
have been stuck, incapacitated, or blown off course
for awhile. Smooth sailing is pleasant, but you are
not going to explore many unknown realms that way."
--David Whyte
--------
It was nighttime when Riker and Troi found
themselves back on the expansive Fifth House grounds.
The breeze had shifted, and though the temperature
never dipped below a pleasant level on Betazed,
tonight was a night which would have been considered
chilly by most who lived here. Deanna drew her arms
around her and Will leaned over. Lifting the gauzy
shawl that had fallen to her waist, he draped it
across her back and shoulders.
"Better?" he asked. "I'd offer you my jacket,
but I'm afraid I didn't bring one." He smiled and so
did she. Shifting her body, Deanna ducked beneath
his arm even so; she placed her head in the crook of
his shoulder and sighed.
He stared at her for a moment; the way her body
seemed to fit next to his like a puzzle-piece. He
was going to remark, but she seemed so content, and
so he hugged her gently instead.
"I'm amazed," he finally did whisper. Troi
made a sound of interest, but said nothing.
"The way this place is lit. You almost can't
tell that its artificial. See that pathway over
there?" He pointed into the shadows where the hint
of a trail led down to a glistening pond. "I'll bet
that the closer we get to the path, the easier it is
to see it, all the way to the water's edge."
Deanna tipped her head and nodded an
affirmation, smiling at his answering grin. "Would
you like to see?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
Troi slapped the front of his chest playfully
and they began walking again. They were quiet for a
time before she spoke again. "Can you really read if
a telepath sends?"
"I guess so," she felt him shrug beneath her.
"Not that well, not as well as I can hear you," he
pulled her closer. "Today there were times when I
didn't realize that it was even happening. That
someone wasn't actually speaking aloud. It seems
like the more that you and I talk that way, the more
frequent those times become. I mean, I know you
don't have to be telepathic to hear a telepathic
voice, and any telepath can hear my thoughts if I
respond that way, obviously. None of that has
anything to do with me, really. I guess I just never
listened before. Lately, I have been."
"Will, it's not as simple as that." Deanna
halted their progress. They stopped several meters
from the pond. "For a telepath to read your
thoughts, there's no skill involved. But for you to
understand the voice you hear, unless the telepath is
deliberately thought casting to you, its -- well, it
would be impossible for anyone who wasn't at least a
little predisposed. Genetically predisposed." Her
expression was serious as she finished. "Have you
ever been tested?"
Riker stared at her, dumbfounded. "Tested?
Deanna, I am not a telepath."
"No, you're not. But perhaps you could be.
Perhaps the ability is there, even in its smallest
measure. The possibility exists."
Riker exhaled, releasing her body. "I don't
know, Deanna. I really don't think so."
"Then how do you explain the things which have
been happening lately?" Her voice was neither
accusatory, nor combative. It was perfectly
reasonable, and for some reason, that annoyed Riker
more than he would have been willing to admit. He
said nothing.
"I want you to look at something. And I don't want
you to be angry when you do. Beverly called me into
her office twice this morning. The second time, she
told me that that I was pregnant." Troi caught and
held Riker's somewhat suspicious blue gaze. "The
first time, she gave me this." Extracting a smaller
data PADD from one of her billowy pockets, she placed
it into his hand. "Beverly was reading up on the
Imzadi link. From a medical perspective. According
to her research there were a few things about the
strength of our link that didn't add up. I gave her
permission to look into my family history, but
apparently she found what she was looking for in
yours."
"In mine?" Riker's eyes narrowed. "She didn't
approach me about that."
"Your birth records were already on file with
Starfleet. She didn't have to."
Riker kept his eyes on Troi for a moment longer
before lowering them to the PADD in his hand. He
scrolled its contents. "What? This isn't possible."
He swallowed and glanced up. "This can't be true."
Deanna reached out and took his free hand in
hers. He didn't pull away. "But it is true, Will.
Beverly cross-referenced the data three times."
Riker's eyes lost focus and he stared out at
the pond for a brief time. "That's what he meant."
Will muttered harshly. "That's what Garion Tem meant
this morning. He was playing with me. He said
'when was it that you last lived on Betazed'. That's
what the bastard meant! Why the hell does everybody
talk in riddles on this damn planet!" Pulling his
hand from Deanna's grasp he strode toward the water's
edge and stopped.
"You were born here Will. In Tana province."
He heard her voice behind him, felt her hands when
they moved along his back. He didn't move, nor did
he turn. "Your mother was an empath, half human just
like me. And you, in whatever small measure, are
also a part of this planet."
"I am *nothing* like the people on this
planet," he whispered venomously, rounding on her so
that she could see the anger in his eyes.
"Is that why you fell in love with me?" she
met his expression dead on, but in her eyes he saw
only the depth of her feeling for him. Not an ounce
of pity or compassion, both of which she knew he'd
resent. Only understanding. He balled his hand into
a fist and turned away.
"All your life you've been at the head of your
classes for tactical training, combat. I've heard
the way they talk about you at Fleet Command. Your
intuition, they're always saying, is nothing short of
incredible. You seem to know how to counter an
attack before it begins. No matter how insignificant
it may seem, some part of you is drawing on a sense
of things which goes beyond the human limit."
He was silent for a very long time. Deanna
came up behind him and stood, without touching. She
let the warmth of her body be the only reminder of
her presence, and for several minutes that's just how
they remained. "My mother," Will finally murmured.
"She didn't have eyes like yours."
Troi sighed, moving around him so that they
stood side by side at the water's edge. "She may
have inherited the eyes of her human parent. That's
possible."
"My father never told me," Riker went on. "Not
even when he knew I was going to marry you."
"Your father was very hurt when your mother
passed away. It was that same hurt which caused him
to close himself off from his only child. Are you
really so surprised that he would keep even this from
you?"
Riker dropped his head and shook it. "I guess
not. Deanna, I must have looked at my mother's
records a hundred times in my life. Why did I never
see that?"
"Because you never had the access. Will, your
father coded certain portions of the file and rewrote
them for general access. Beverly has medical access;
access designated for emergencies and biological
trauma. Your father wouldn't have been able to
tamper with those records, not even a Starfleet
Admiral can tamper with those records."
"But why would he care? Why would it matter to
him whether my mother was human or half human? He
loved her anyway. Why would he go to all that
trouble?" Riker lifted his arm automatically when
her shoulder brushed against his arm. He drew her
closer.
"I can only guess at that." Troi leaned into the
embrace.
"Your guesses are usually pretty good,
Counselor."
She offered him a half-smile. "I think he
wanted to keep you with him, Will. I think he
thought that if you knew you had a heritage beyond
Earth, your anger towards him would drive you to it.
And in his own way, he couldn't bear the thought of
losing you as well. But I can't know that for sure.
If you want to find out the real reason, you'll have
to ask him yourself someday."
"You're damn right I will." Riker's scowl
transformed into a far-off expression "When you
say it like that, it makes perfect sense."
"I could be wrong." She lifted her head to
regard him.
"I don't think you are." Riker sighed.
"Knowing Kyle, I think you hit the nail right on the
head."
"Promise me you will speak with him, though,
Will. Promise me you won't just assume that I'm
right and let your relationship deteriorate for lack
of communication. Whatever else your father has
done, I know that he loves you. I've felt it from
him when he arrived on board the Enterprise. You're
both so stubborn, so unwilling to let go of the hurt
inside you." She drew her arms around his waist and
hugged him. "Promise me," she whispered again.
He stood rigidly beneath her embrace for
several eternal moments before he finally relaxed,
returning her hug. "I can never say no to you,"
Riker's sullen voice grumbled.
"I'm glad," she drew her lips across his neck.
"Deanna, I have to ask, is this the reason
Garion Tem wants to make our child the heir to his
house? Because I think you and I both know that
between the two of us, this kid is never going to be
a full telepath."
She shook her head. "Garion Tem is dying,
Will. There are ten houses on Betazed from the old
families, and none of them are doing very well in
terms of potential heirs. Many of the younger
generation have taken to other planets, other careers
-- just as I did. The elders are scared, Imzadi.
They want the legacy of this planet to go on the way
it has for nearly two thousand years."
"So Garion 'chose' us? Out of the blue?"
"We're going to be married before he dies."
"That's not the reason." His gaze shifted to
her eyes and held there.
"We're Imzadi. True Imzadi. The first in
nearly a half-century. There is power in that, or so
tradition states. Our children will be blessed."
"I don't know if I believe in that stuff." He
wrinkled his brow distastefully, but Deanna was
already laughing. Laughing so hard her entire body
shook until he released her.
"Oh, Will," she gasped between breaths of air.
"After what we've been through with this damned
unfinished bond, you're going to tell me you don't
believe in 'this stuff'?"
He stared at her in silence. Troi shook her
head and advanced on him. "Believe," she commanded
half-seriously, eyes alight with mischief. "In
this," her lips traced the edge of his, but just as
he was about to respond in kind, a white-hot fire
ignited in his spirit and he found himself breathless
from it. Eyes locked with hers, Will lost himself in
the darkness of her gaze. She was doing this to them
both -- through their link. She was doing it to
prove a point.
"Do you want to grant Garion's request?" He
managed to gasp. "Because tradition be damned, your
mother is not making this decision for us!"
She smiled brightly, still teasing him over the
powerful bond they shared. "No, she's not. We're
going to make this decision together. What do you
think we should do?"
"I think it means a lot to this planet; to
these people, to have an heir for each House." His
eyes found hers and he tried to ignore the pleasure
she drove through him across the distance.
"I think this is our child." Her onyx eyes
flashed. "This planet be damned. What's best for
our child-"
"Is to grow up with us." Riker finished for
her. "They aren't going to keep her here."
"Her?" she grinned.
"Him. Her." Riker smiled in return; then
retaliated against her constant tease, sending a jolt
of liquid feeling back at her. Her eyes widened and
she exhaled sharply.
"Very good, Commander." Her voice was low.
"I learned from the best." He flashed her a
grin. "Deanna, lets compromise. You said it
yourself; No one can't choose their birthright. But
a person does have the right to choose their pathway
in life. We can accept on our child's behalf, but
ultimately SHE," he emphasized the gender and Deanna
grinned back, "she is going to have to decide what
she wants."
"That's true." Troi nodded, eyes alight.
"And she'll grow up with us. Wherever we are,
we'll give her all the options."
"We'll let HIM decide." Deanna teased, but the
moment was short lived. She gasped anew at the force
of Will's latest projection. Her head fell forward
and a shallow moan escaped her lips. When she was
able to lift her gaze once more, there was fire in
her eyes.
"Was that good for you, Counselor?" Riker's own
eyes were dark, but he smirked playfully.
"You want a battle, Commander?" She flashed
him a dangerous look. "You've got one."
Riker staggered where he stood, his heartbeat
slammed against the inside wall of his chest as every
inch of his body suddenly felt as though it were
going to detonate from the erotic sensation of her
touch. "Not fair," he sucked in a breath. "That's
two against one."
"Get used to it." Troi smiled darkly. She
took a step backward, and his whole world exploded
with nearly unbearable pleasure.
"Shit, Deanna," his voice sounded ragged, even
to his own ears. "You're asking for a fight."
"I thought I already had."
Centering his thoughts, Riker lifted his gaze
and fixed her with it. She was so beautiful,
standing like a dark angel in the shimmering light
from the water; her hair blowing with the breeze, he
nearly crossed the distance between them and demanded
a far more physical combat. But this was her game,
not his, and he wouldn't break the rules. Not yet,
anyway. His blue eyes flashed and he threw her a
brilliant smile.
What Deanna felt next was the most incredibly
sensual exploration of her body she'd ever known.
Invisible hands found every secret spot he knew she
loved -- simultaneously. A gentle moan became a cry
of pleasure and she threw her head backward,
surrendering to the moment.
"You like that?" He moved toward her and
whispered against her skin, never touching it. They
were so close, the warmth of her body intoxicated
him. Amplified by the aura of her presence he now
felt constantly, it was like a drug and he had to
fight to keep his hands from mirroring the mental
fingertips he drew along her body.
Troi's only response was an inarticulate sound.
She was breathing hard and her hair fell over her
shoulder unbidden.
"So does this mean we're going to say yes to
Garion's request? Conditionally, of course." He
asked her while she still had trouble drawing breath,
and watched her smile.
"I imagine so." Her head lifted slowly, their
eyes locked, and Riker's knees gave way beneath him.
A pulse of blinding ecstasy arched his body and he
fell backward, landing with a splash in the water
behind him.
She was laughing convulsively, her shoulders
bent when he finally emerged from the deep, poking
his head through the water's surface. "Aw, did you
get a little wet, Commander?" Troi's sultry voice
mirrored her gaze, but she reached out to help him
from the shallow pool even so.
"A little," he admitted with a rueful smile.
"But not as wet as you're going to be." Yanking back
on her hand, he pulled her into the water after him.
She let out a yelp of surprise and landed with a
similar splash in the pond.
Lifting her head from the water, Troi gasped
and pulled a mass of long wet hair from her eyes. He
was grinning at her infuriatingly. "Now *that*
wasn't fair." she admonished. "No physical contact,
remember?"
"You're right. That wasn't fair. Neither is
this." Riker sent back a portion of what she'd just
cast at him. When her body tipped forward in the
water, unprepared for the force of it, he caught her
in his arms and held her head above the surface.
Staring down on her as the sensation she was feeling
drew out, he noted with fascination the way her eyes
slid languorously open once more.
Dark tendrils of curly raven hair were
plastered to the side of her face and the gauzy
fabric of her clothing clung stickily to every curve
he knew so intimately. Still she was breathtaking.
He lifted one hand from the water and traced a wet
pathway along the contour of her face, drawing his
fingertips lightly across her slightly open mouth.
He collected a drop of moisture from the bottom of
her lip.
Deanna's breath came quickly, neither one of
them spoke. His smoldering blue eyes drank in every
feature of her presence in the darkness. They
remained that way, shoulder deep in the water for
nearly a minute.
"We're waiting until tomorrow night?" Riker's
voice was thin, but she nodded in answer. He shut
his eyes and exhaled. "Why are we waiting, again?"
"The bond," her quiet answer came back, and she
kissed the fingers which lay across her lips.
"Right. Yeah. I remember now." Slowly
reopening his gaze, Will managed a lazy smile. Her
eyes were glistening in the moonlight and he wanted
desperately to kiss the droplets of moisture from her
incredibly long lashes.
Swallowing with difficulty, Riker pulled her
waist toward him through the water. She tensed in
surprise at first, then relaxed when it was clear he
had her firmly.
"What are you doing?" she asked, still staring
at him.
"Getting us out of this pond." Lifting her
into his arms, Riker hoisted Deanna her off her feet
and she threw her hands around his neck, laughing
musically.
"How very gracious of you, Commander." When
they were both on solid ground once more, he set her
down. They stood dripping at the edge of the water,
but neither one of them was cold. "Thank you," she
whispered, placing her lips against his for a chaste
kiss. It started out chaste, in any event.
The physical press of her mouth against his
shattered a modicum of Will's otherwise tight
control. His mouth seized on hers with ferocity,
devouring her damp kiss with passionate fury. When
they released, it took every ounce of willpower in
their traitorous bodies to let go.
"Tomorrow." He reminded them both, still
staring at her. She grinned at him. "You are so
beautiful," he added.
"Tomorrow," her own voice came back
He drew her into his arms and held her tightly,
uncaring of the dripping state of their attire. Troi
shivered slightly when the breeze picked up and Riker
turned them both toward the house. They started
slowly for home.
--o--
--------
Chapter 78
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"I take it the odds are against us and the situation
is grim. ... Sounds like fun."
--Captain Kirk, Star Trek: Generations
--------
The rear corridor of the vast Fifth House
Estate was gleaming with light when Riker and Troi
finally made it inside. Loosening her damp shawl
onto a nearby chair, Deanna turned and offered Will a
quizzical look.
"Mother usually doesn't have the lights on this
late. Not in this wing of the house."
Riker's gaze sharpened. "Are you sure? Maybe
she has company."
"Maybe." Troi frowned uncertainly. "I'm not
sensing anything untoward." She tipped her head for
a moment before a smile of relief crossed her
features. "Garion Tem is here."
"Really? Well, that's convenient." Off Will's
playful expression, Deanna smirked.
"I'll bet."
They'd started down the hallway when Riker felt
Troi's hand on his arm. He stopped and threw her a
questioning look.
"We should change, first," she smiled impishly;
lifting a damp portion of his shirt between her
fingertips for emphasis.
"Oops." Riker grinned. "Guess so."
Glancing down one of the adjacent corridors,
Deanna tugged his arm and they took off like a couple
of guilty school children, ducking up one of the
servant staircases which Will was certain Deanna must
have used many times as a young girl. She took the
steps two at a time and he laughed when they reached
the top.
"Feels good to be home, doesn't it?" he teased.
"Yes." Deanna sucked in a breath and awarded
him a brilliant smile.
"Oh," he groaned. "Don't do that."
"What?" she bit her lip mischievously.
"That-" He pointed at her. "That--just don't
*look* at me like that."
"How can I not look at you?" she laughed.
"And why, for that matter?"
"Whenever you look at me that way," His eyes
darkened and he fixed her with an intense gaze. "It
makes me want to do things. Dangerous things."
"Really? What, um, sort -- of things?" Troi
tipped her head coyly, moving toward him. She
stopped herself barely a breath away from his chest.
"God, Deanna you're making it nearly impossible
for me to keep my hands off you." He moaned, throwing
her a frustrated look.
"What if I don't want you to keep your hands
off me?" Her dark eyes flashed.
"That's it." Riker growled, seizing her arms
with both hands, he pulled her roughly against him.
"No more games, Counselor," his mouth covered hers
and their tongues collided in a rhythmic caress.
"No more games," he heard her whisper
breathlessly, and then her hands were at his neck,
her fingers in his hair. Deanna whimpered softly,
her slight body fell forward and his arms released
their grip on her shoulders; dropping to the curve of
her waist.
Reaching around her, Riker peeled the damp
blouse she wore from her body, tossing it haphazardly
aside. Her skin was hot and moist from the pond, and
she exhaled a shallow moan when his hands teased her
intimately.
Troi lifted his own shirt from the catch at his
waist and he helped her pull it over his head,
allowing the garment to fall at their feet. Flesh
pressed against flesh, her fingers kneaded into the
muscles of his back and he heard her call his name.
They were almost beyond thought, beyond reason
-- when Deanna suddenly stiffened in his arms. She
broke their kiss, gasping for breath; panting against
his chest when she dropped her forehead against him.
"What is it?" he asked, nearly as breathless.
His eyes were shut and he held her body with needful
strength.
Troi uttered a sound of helpless frustration.
"Mother." she whispered back. Her words tickled the
hair on his skin and he swallowed. "She's asking
when we'll be down to join her and Garion in the
parlor."
Deanna felt the muscles in Will's chest
contract. "Ignore it." He murmured. His hands took
her head between them and he kissed her insistently.
His mouth demanded access to hers and her head fell
backward in the cradle of his grasp, allowing him
everything. The pull became an agonizing need
between them, but when they finally separated for air
it was Will who stood apart from her.
Troi's eyes slid open and she regarded him with
helpless amusement. "I was ignoring it," her small
smile made him rake his fingers backward through his
hair.
"I know." His lip curled upward and he caught
his breath. "But it's only one day, right?" Dark
eyes stared at him in silence. "Right?" he repeated.
"Deanna, you're killing me here."
"Right." She muttered sullenly. "Only one
day."
He exhaled gratefully and then chuckled. "How
did we make it through the last eight years?"
"I have no idea." Her gaze drifted over his
bare chest and a frustrated sound escaped her lips.
Sighing deeply, Deanna lifted her blouse off a nearby
lamp and bent down to toss Will his shirt. He caught
it with a flourish and they smiled at eachother.
"I'm gonna go-" Riker indicated a nearby door
through which his Starfleet satchel was clearly
visible. "-change. In there."
"Okay." she nodded. Neither one of them
moved.
"Right." He shook his head ruefully. "I'll
meet you downstairs," backing into the suite, Will
paused when he was almost out of view. His eyes
never left hers. Placing his hand on the doorplate,
he tapped it purposefully and continued to watch her
until the entire wooden panel slid across his field
of view and she was gone. Only then did he shut his
eyes and turn into the suite.
He had taken nearly three steps when a bolt of
electric pleasure whiplashed through his body.
Clutching the side of the bed for support, Riker
caught his breath. "Goddamn it, Deanna!" he gritted
through his teeth. He gave up trying to fight it and
simply let himself drop onto the bed, smiling up at
the ceiling. "You are so going to pay for that," he
whispered into the empty room.
--o--
--------
Chapter 79
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Gallant? As in, fair? Hell, I fight to win. I just
try to look gallant."
--Adam Lipkin
--------
"Garion, don't be ridiculous," Lwaxana Troi
frowned at her guest disparagingly. "We've done it
the same way for over a hundred years. Why would you
even *consider* changing something that works so
well?"
Professor Tem sighed. "Because, Lwaxana, it's
time. ' We've done it the same way for a hundred
years' is not a reason to continue for the next
hundred. There has to be meaning in it. And what
meaning is there?" The older man placed his hands
together and paced from one end of the expansive
Fifth House parlor to the other.
"Deanna doesn't seem to mind." Ambassador Troi
shook her head. "She's willing to have a traditional
ceremony."
"And William Riker? Is he willing?" Tem's
sharp eyes focused on the Troi Matriarch.
"Well," she huffed. "I imagine he'd want to
make my daughter happy."
"You think it means *that* much to Deanna for
this to be a traditional new-world ceremony?"
"Yes of course I do. Why wouldn't it? It's
her *wedding* for goodness sake." She scowled
slightly.
Garion's lip curled and he tipped his head
toward the doorway before the smile reached his eyes.
"Then by all means, Lwaxana. Allow me to prove you
wrong."
Ambassador Troi's eyes widened at the
insinuation, but before she could speak, Deanna
glided down the last of the great stairs outside the
foyer and turned into the parlor. Wearing a deep
crimson pantsuit and a brilliant smile, the younger
Troi glanced from Garion to her mother and back
again.
"Good spirits, professor!" she greeted Tem
warmly, taking his hand in hers and kissing him
lightly on the cheek.
"Good spirits, Deanna." Garion held her at
arms length and regarded her seriously. "You grow
more beautiful every time I see you. Yet you look
almost unchanged from the girl I once knew. Has it
really been two decades since you attended my classes
at the University?"
Flushing scarlet, Troi dipped her head.
"Nearly, I'm afraid."
Lwaxana pursed her lips and cleared her throat.
"I was just telling Garion all about tomorrow's
wedding plans," she interjected. "It's going to be
beautiful darling, just the way you've always dreamed
it would be." The Troi matriarch smiled at her
daughter and Deanna returned the favor in silence.
"Why were you speaking aloud?" Troi suddenly
asked, realizing that it was a somewhat odd for their
conversation to have been spoken rather than
telepathic.
"Oh, I'm afraid that's my fault." Ambassador
Troi frowned. "I deal with the Federation so
frequently these days that I can't even remember when
I'm at home anymore." She cast a pointed look at her
daughter. "I'm certain you can relate."
Deanna shrugged. "It really doesn't bother me.
I was only wondering."
"Where's William?" Lwaxana glanced behind
Deanna purposefully. "Wasn't he with you?"
"He was." Troi ducked her head and tucked a
few strands of hair behind her ear. "He'll be down
in a minute or two."
"Oh good, then we can discuss the ceremony."
The older woman smiled politely.
"Mother," Deanna exhaled. "There are a few
things Will and I would like to speak with you about,
regarding the wedding."
"Of course dear. It's your day, after all."
"Deanna," Garion stepped forward and took her
smaller hand in his. "I know your mother has told
you of my offer. My -- request really."
"She has." Troi's nodded slowly.
"I hope that you weren't too loathe to consider
it." Tem's dark eyes regarded her solemnly.
"We did consider it." Her expression met her
mother's pointedly. "Will and I both."
"And? Have you come to a decision?" Lwaxana
stepped forward expectantly, but it was not Deanna
who answered. Riker rounded the corner of the
parlor entrance, immaculately groomed in a civilian
outfit. His eyes dusted over the occupants of the
room and then met with his fiance's.
"We have." Smiling at Lwaxana and nodding
courteously toward Tem, Will moved inside the room
and took a position next to Deanna. She lifted his
hand and threaded their fingers.
"Well for heaven's sake, don't keep us in the
dark. What was it?" The Ambassador frowned
convincingly at both of them.
"Yes. Our decision was yes." Deanna nodded,
watching her mother exhale loudly. Garion's
expectant look transformed into one of gratitude.
"Conditionally," she added.
Lwaxana's gaze fell. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Riker began in a serious voice.
"That our first child, and any other children we may
have," he glanced at the Counselor and smiled. "-are
going to grow up with us. Wherever we are. And that
may not be here." His level gaze fell on Lwaxana and
he met her dark eyes without flinching.
"Our children are also going to be given the
right to choose. Whatever else we may inflict on
them, the right to make their own decisions as adults
will remain untarnished." Her dark eyes locked on
Garion's. "The child you choose as your heir may
reject the title when he or she is older. But if
that happens, it will not be because we have spoken
ill of this planet or of your House in any way. It
will be a choice made in full understanding of the
facts."
"If you can accept that," Will squeezed
Deanna's hand. "Then we'll agree to your request."
Ambassador Troi's mouth opened and then shut
again, but Garion Tem stepped forward immediately.
"Thank you," he drew Deanna into his arms and held
her. "You have the eternal gratitude of my House."
Deanna pulled a few inches from his embrace and
found his ear. "I didn't consider this for your
house," she whispered back so that only he could
hear.
"I know," he dropped his gaze.
Riker looked from his fiance to the professor
and the odd exchange which had just occurred. His
eyes examined Deanna as she stepped away from Tem.
"Thank you as well," the older man turned
toward him and Will nodded, uncertain of what to say.
"Garion, Gods what are you thinking?" Lwaxana
stepped forward, obviously confused and somewhat
unsettled. The professor's eyes remained on Deanna.
"I am thinking," his eyes filled with moisture.
"That I am an old man and a fool."
"I don't understand. This doesn't make any
sense at all." Ambassador Troi shook her head, but
Deanna had already moved forward and taken Tem's
hand. She sat with him on the edge of a giant bench.
When her eyes lifted and found Riker's they implored
him to remain where he stood.
"You are still the most generous spirit, my
angel, that I have ever known." Garion looked up
from Troi and found her mother's eyes. "I was -- in
love with your daughter, Lwaxana. You have the right
to know. There was a time when I had almost
persuaded her...to stay, here on Betazed, with me."
"What?" Riker shifted on his feet. His eyes
locked with Deanna's. It was she who looked away
first, her soft expression settling once more on the
man beside her.
"I don't believe this. You're nearly three
times her age. How did you-?" Lwaxana dropped into
a nearby chair with barely a breath.
"Yes. And that," he afforded the Ambassador a
serious gaze, "in the end, was the only reason I let
her go."
"What do you mean, 'let her go'?" Will's
expression hardened and he caught Deanna's eyes
another time. "How could you 'let her go' unless she
was going to-"
"I was going to stay, Will," she nodded at him,
eyes filled with tears of her own. "It wasn't what
you're thinking," she swallowed. "More spiritual
than physical, but I did love him."
"This is crazy." Riker drew his hands backward
through his hair. "This is -- this isn't happening."
"It did happen, Imzadi." Her quiet voice
admitted, and it twisted like a razor in his heart.
"Imzadi?" he spat the word back at her and she
cringed.
"Don't you *dare*, Commander." Garion's
hissed. "Have you any idea what state you left her
in? What she went through because she loved you so
desperately?" His black eyes tore a hole in Riker's
resolve, but he refused to relinquish his anger.
"She was broken. Broken in two. The kindest, most
loving angel, but she lay where you cast her aside.
It took me months to convince her she was worth
caring for. Months when at first, all I wanted was
for her to get back up on her feet. I'd never seen
anyone so utterly lost. But the weeks ticked by, and
one day I realized that she was more important to my
soul than anyone ever had been. Me, a jaded
academic. A man who had never been in love before."
Tem laughed bitterly. "And now I couldn't bear to
let her go. When all she could speak of was you."
The two men's gazes locked. Riker's jaw
clenched and his blue eyes were steel while the two
held eye contact, but Will said nothing.
"I am the only living survivor of the First
House of Betazed, young Riker; the last in a
bloodline that will end with my passing. A silly
tradition I called it, because I was young and
rebellious; because I chose my career over my heart
more than once. Yet the First House of Betazed has
existed for over two thousand years. And on the day
I die, it will cease to exist with my last breath."
The older man rose to his feet with an agility which
belied his age, he stood face to face with the much
taller Commander and his black eyes flashed. "For
years, I didn't care. I found no meaning in it. But
she-" he turned away from all of them and stared
into nothing for a moment. "I think on the choices
I've made in my life every moment of every day."
Riker's icy expression remained on Tem and
Deanna was suddenly certain that Garion had been
'showing' Will something the entire time. Something
that was affecting the younger man to the point where
his anger and his pain nearly overwhelmed her. .
The Commander was silent for a very long time,
hands clenched at his sides. Until he finally looked
away; until he found Deanna staring up at both of
them and he could feel the mirror of his own hurt in
her. It cut through into the core of his soul.
Unable to speak, or even to formulate a
coherent thought, Riker swallowed the ache in his
chest and tore his gaze from hers. His eyes flew
over the room, catching only a brief glimpse of
Lwaxana's ineradicable gaze on him. It was more than
enough.
Stumbling backward, Will braced himself on the
edge of the chair he'd almost tripped over. He
staggered from the room, and into the foyer. His
footsteps echoed when he moved through the corridor
and out one of the side entrances of the estate.
:::Imzadi!::: Deanna rose to her feet, calling
after him. Hot teardrops spilled from the depths of
her dark eyes without respite. Her mother's hand had
somehow made it to her shoulder but she threw it off,
rounding on both telepaths.
"He didn't deserve that!" She whispered
sorrowfully at Garion.
"He deserved to know what his arrogance cost
you." Tem's words were so quiet; they were almost
inaudible. But he dropped his gaze at the heartbreak
in her expression.
"Not like that... " She shook her head. "Not
like that." Without a second glance, Deanna fled the
room after Will, rounding the corner of the foyer.
The doorway in the corridor flew shut behind her.
--o--
--------
Chapter 80
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores
of your souls."
--Kahlil Gibran, "The Prophet"
--------
The evening breeze picked up; transformed into
a wind, it bent the branches of the trees high above
Will Riker's head. The Troi estate was peppered with
towering Semil giants; enormous willowy trees with
free ranging tendrils cascading all the way to the
ground. It was at the base of just such a giant that
Riker finally sat.
Dropping his body to the grass and leaning
backward, he felt the biting sting of treebark
pressing painfully through his shirt. It felt good.
It felt real. Not like the visions Garion had shown
him, of a woman he barely recognized. Not like the
images of Deanna sobbing bitterly in the arms of
another man.
His eyes lifted, his body stiffened and he laid
his head backward. She was nearby. He could feel
her spirit reaching out across the distance.
Curling his fingers around a rough piece of bark,
Riker squeezed until his palm surrendered and a warm
trickle of blood slipped over his skin. There was
nowhere he could go; nowhere to find solitude. And
he could sense her moving closer every instant.
"Deanna, damn it, for *once* in your life why
can't you leave me alone?" His bitter whisper was
accompanied by a feeling of immediate regret when he
felt her pause, not physically, but across the link
they shared. The respite was only momentary before
it was replaced with new resolve and her continued
approach. It seemed inevitable that he would have to
face those eyes again.
=|=
Troi's measured strides were careful, but not
slow. She knew that he was nearby in the darkness,
and that he hoped to be alone. But that was not an
option. Not on the night before their wedding, when
everything should have been magical and happy. She
would not allow him to retreat this way, into the
avarice and self-loathing he'd found so easy to feel
since his youth. It was a crutch, a plaintive excuse
he clung to with fevered desperation; that he was bad
news, hard-edged and incapable of the finer things in
love.
At times, his unwillingness to look within his
own spirit had infuriated as much as frustrated her.
But Deanna had been born with the gift of patience.
Perhaps it was this patience which had moved her to
seek out psychology as a vocation. Perhaps it was
also the catalyst that allowed her to search past the
automatic walls he threw up when they first met;
hiding behind brash and often arrogant self-
confidence.
At first these very traits in Will had been a
fascination for her. His contradictory emotions, the
way he spoke with such casual assuredness even when
he was feeling just the opposite. The day she'd
finally broken through was a turning point in her
life. She would remember it forever. It was the day
she discovered the truth of Will Riker's personality;
the same day she fell hopelessly in love with him.
There was a hurt inside his spirit that ran so
deeply, it kept him awake in agony some nights.
Forced him into the arms of lover after lover when he
wasn't throwing himself at some monster in combat.
She knew his life had changed when they forged the
initial stages of their bond. There was never a
doubt in her mind that their lives would forever be
linked because of it. And even though he had moved
past some of his anger in the years of their serving
together on board the Enterprise, there was still a
part of him that hadn't. That was the part of him
she searched for tonight. The part that couldn't
reconcile the man he'd been with the one he'd become.
"Do you know," her quiet voice drifted ahead of
her into the night. She felt his presence at the
edge of a small clearing and though she couldn't see
him yet, she knew he was near, "that you and I have
known one another for nearly half our lives?"
He didn't answer, but she hadn't expected him
to. Turning her head at the sensation of his
shifting thoughts, Troi smiled. "There you are."
"Deanna," his voice came out of the shadows.
"I'm so angry right now, I really don't think I'd
make very good company." Riker's tone was soft. So
soft that it gave the Counselor pause. She'd never
heard him utter a truth with so much apathy before.
"Yes, you're angry." Troi moved around a giant
tree until the silhouette of her figure stood over
him. "You're angry and you're confused. And you're
hurt."
"I don't need a therapist right now,
Counselor!" Riker's harsh whisper sliced into the
darkness. She was quiet. For nearly half a minute,
she said nothing at all. He'd been staring right at
her when the shadow of her presence disappeared.
Blinking in the moonlight, Riker turned his head.
"That's true. You don't need a Counselor."
Without warning, Deanna's small body descended on
his. The fact that she'd caught him unaware made
him shift in surprise, but he was frozen in place
when her slight weight pressed against his legs.
She straddled his waist at the base of the tree and
her eyes -- the eyes he'd been so reticent about
facing again -- looked directly into his. "But how
about a friend?" Troi studied his features; barely
visible in the darkness. They traded a silent
examination. "How about -- a lover?" Her face moved
within millimeters of his, so that the breath of her
words caressed his skin. He hadn't yet responded
when she dusted her lips across his, "a wife..." her
kiss grazed his mouth.
Riker's eyes closed involuntarily. He'd been
able to resist the pull in his chest until the final
two words she'd spoken. Suddenly everything was
gone. The anger, the conflict, his immutable self-
loathing. She lifted it from his spirit as though it
had never been.
From the moment he'd met her, Riker wondered
the same thing. How. How she could touch him with
little more than a look. How she could heal the ache
in his soul with barely a whisper. Yet she did.
Time and time again, she had.
The next time she kissed him, Will kissed her
back.
--o--
--------
Chapter 81
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"It is not length of life, but depth of life."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson
--------
They sat in silence as the meeting of their
mouths disengaged. Deanna pulled away from him, eyes
filled with quiet expectance. She knew she'd broken
through. He knew it too, and now she was waiting for
him to speak. This was the part he dreaded; the part
where he told her what was burning in his chest.
His gaze dropped and he exhaled sharply.
"Oh sparks," He spoke quietly, glancing up at
her and feeling an irrational sense of gratitude over
her smile at the nickname. "Have you ever wanted
something -- wanted it so much that it amazed you
anything could ever be that important?"
Deanna nodded wordlessly.
"I don't even know how to say this." He
swallowed. "It's you and it's me and this wedding.
I thought, I mean I imagined -- it was just the next
step in our relationship. Completing the link.
Being Imzadi." Riker's rueful smile tipped the
corners of his lips. "But tonight I realized that
it's more than that. For a lot of reasons." His
hand crept forward and his fingers brushed against
the fabric at her belly. She looked down on him with
thoughtful eyes. "What Garion showed me tonight was
a woman I never knew. I didn't believe the images
were even real at first. I thought he was being
cruel. But he wasn't being cruel, was he?"
Troi shook her head mutely, head lowered.
"Deanna, ever since we met, I've known you to
be caring and generous to a fault. I've also known
you to be stubborn and willful, and infuriatingly
single minded when it suits you." Her eyes flashed
but she said nothing and Riker was suddenly certain
that only the years of her experience as a Counselor
allowed her the feat of silence. He afforded her a
tired smile for the effort. "All things I loved
about you."
Her gaze narrowed.
"The point is, I saw none of those traits in
the person Tem reflected." His eyes betrayed his
emotion as clearly as she felt it. "I didn't know,
sparks. I never knew. And even though a part of me
wishes to God I still didn't know, I feel a little
lost. That's the truth. For a lot of years I told
myself that if anyone could pick herself up and dust
herself off it was you. I figured you'd moved on and
found someone better. I wanted to believe that you
were stronger than any of it, even if I wasn't. See
the thing is, Deanna," Riker's blue eyes focused
intently on her. "I knew that I hurt you. I just
never let myself imagine that anything I'd ever said
or done could have affected you so much."
There were tears on her face, hot moisture
spilling from her eyes while he spoke. She turned
her head and lost herself for a brief moment.
"You and I have already been over the part
about my being a selfish bastard." Riker took her
face in his hands and brushed at her tears. He
offered her a wan smile. "That's not what this is
about."
"You want me to tell you that I didn't turn to
Garion. That I didn't love him." Troi finished,
allowing his touch on her face. "I can't do that
Will. Garion was there for me when your absence felt
like a knife in my spirit. He was good to me, and I
did love him."
"I know that you did." His nod surprised
Deanna far less than the lack of conflict in his
admission. "And I can't imagine how any man could
ever spend more than a day with you and not fall in
love."
Her face colored slightly.
"But I was never *in* love with him, Will.
Loving someone and falling in love with them is not
the same thing." Troi brushed her hand across his
bearded cheek.
"I'm not jealous." Riker shook his head
adamantly. "Deanna, I'm not. I know how you feel
about me. I was angry. I was so angry that I could
barely see before I left the house. But it wasn't
because I was jealous. It was because of what your
relationship with him represented. All of our
broken promises."
"Then." she countered, eyes bright. "We were
barely adults then."
"That's why you have to know," Riker drew his
hand across the edge of her face. "right now, that
when we make another promise tomorrow, it's going to
be different. I can't go back and change the
decisions I made. Neither one of us can. Hell, I
don't even know if it would be the right thing to do
if we could. But I can do something now. I can
swear to you that I will never knowingly betray your
trust again. For whatever that's worth in the wake
of the last time."
His sharp blue gaze locked with her dark one.
She stared at him for an eternal instant. Caught
and held in the depth of her expression, Riker felt
as though she were examining his soul. He had made
her another promise. He had voiced it overtly, and
whether she had asked for it or not, the effect it
had on her was serious.
It was a very long time before Deanna's nod.
The motion of her head was slight; he almost hadn't
seen it. But then she seemed to glow. Leaning
forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck and
hugged him, cheek to cheek. "It's worth everything
to me." Her whisper touched his ear.
Riker tipped his head toward their contact,
grinning when she shivered from the sensation of his
whiskers on her neck.
"We should go back." His voice was solemn once
again. "There are a few things I want to say to
Professor Garion Tem, before he leaves tonight."
Troi pulled away and regarded him. He'd
thought at first that she might protest, but the look
of challenge in her gaze fell away. She nodded
instead. A silent affirmation of the fact that she
probably knew exactly what it was he planned to say.
--o--
--------
Chapter 82
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"In order to act, you must be somewhat insane. A
reasonably sensible person is satisfied with
thinking."
--Georges Clemenceau
--------
A breath of nervous laughter escaped Deanna's
lips. They had traveled arm in arm the entire
distance back to the house. Now they stood in a
doorway, Troi's smaller hand in Will's.
"Before we go in there," an understanding
crossed his features and he squeezed her fingers.
"I wanted to tell you -- you look *incredible* in
red." Riker flashed her a devilish grin. The
light from the foyer caught Deanna's eyes when she
lifted them skyward.
"What?" He smiled defensively.
"You have a one track mind, Will Riker."
He might have pretended ignorance, except that
Deanna's own cheeks had turned a pretty shade of
pink. He grinned instead. "You're right, I
apologize. Especially considering *your* mind was
obviously on stellar cartography for the last few
hours."
Troi's lips turned up at the edges. "I should
report, CAPTAIN, that I did discover a very
interesting phenomenon."
"Really?" He cleared his throat and put on his
best imitative version of Jean-Luc Picard's accent.
"By all means, Counselor, please -- present your
findings."
Visibly surprised by the accuracy of his
impersonation, Deanna laughed aloud. She placed her
hand to her mouth helplessly. "Has he ever seen you
do that?"
"I sure as hell hope not!"
"Oh, good." Troi's eyes flashed. "I consider
it a positive thing to enter into any relationship
armed with possible black-mail material."
"Enter?" Riker smirked. "Deanna, I think our -
- relationship -- would have to go down in the annals
as the longest running entrance in recorded history."
"I'm looking forward to act two, myself." Her
smile faltered and she glanced at the floor.
The teasing light in Will's eyes blinked out,
leaving behind a serious gaze. He didn't bother to
reassure her; rather he allowed his shoulders to drop
in silent agreement. "Yeah," his voice was quiet.
She tipped her head into the doorway. "Shall
we?"
A measure of his earlier smile returned.
"After you, Sparks."
Deanna smiled and stepped into the foyer,
turning for a backward glance and an afterthought.
"Do me a favor, Will?" she asked. Only two steps
behind her, Riker tilted his head expectantly. Her
expression softened. "Don't ever stop calling me
that."
=|=
The lights in the parlor were brighter than
Riker remembered they had been. Perhaps Lwaxana had
turned more of them on. Deanna's hand shifted in his
and he could feel the silent strength she offered.
He absorbed it gratefully, without really thinking
about it, and it prompted a feeling of happiness from
her that he was certain he hadn't felt before. Maybe
she was right, and it was all the 'little things'
that made the difference. Maybe he was finally
beginning to understand that.
As the two emerged into full view of the
parlor's occupants, it was clear that much had been
discussed in their absence. Lwaxana and Garion sat
opposite one another on the edge of a great bench.
Both had their hands folded serenely in their laps;
both appeared as though they were still in
conversation when Will and Deanna arrived. They
looked up in unison and Riker exhaled. At least the
palpable tension had dissipated.
"Professor Tem." Will was the first to speak,
prompting the older man to rise from his chair; a
motion he affected with poise befitting his station.
Garion stepped forward, but Riker lifted his hand.
"If it's all the same to you, sir, there's something
I'd like to say before you begin."
Tem nodded wordlessly.
Riker dropped his head thoughtfully and then
released Deanna's hand when he was ready to speak.
He cleared his throat, feeling Troi's eyes on him
despite the fact that she was standing behind him.
"I've ... spent a lot of time being angry in my
life," his eyes locked with the older man's. "Most
of my life, actually. The fact that I was angry
helped me to push aside everything and everyone who
got in the way of my objectives, so that I could
succeed -- and be the best." His shoulders squared.
"I'm vain enough to think that I am among the best at
what I do. Now. But it isn't my anger or my ego
that I attribute the successes in my life to
anymore."
Moving toward an elegant vase, Riker stood
before it in silence. Then he smiled; his gaze
returned to Garion. "When I met Deanna, I was a kid.
She was a kid. We were -- crazy in love and, it just
-- it wasn't the right time for us. Not for either
of us. I've made some bad decisions over the years.
I think that we can all relate to those kinds of
decisions." Will's blue eyes fixed on Tem but the
older man's wry smile was all the response he had
been looking for. Riker nodded in acknowledgment. "I
made a promise to Deanna and I broke that promise. I
had no idea what the consequences would be. I
couldn't even imagine what the future would hold for
either of us. But I knew, in my heart, that I was
scared." When he offered the professor a genuine
smile, even the older man seemed taken aback by it.
"You told me in the museum this morning that fear, on
its own, isn't necessarily a negative emotion. It's
how we respond to the emotion that defines us in one
way or another. Well, I ran. I took off in the
other direction as fast as I could go and I didn't
look back, not for a very long time." Rounding
slowly where he stood, Riker looked first at Lwaxana
and then back at Tem. "I -- was -- a kid. I barely
had two pips on my collar and the universe seemed
like it went on forever if I could just keep going on
my own-"
"But then I met Deanna. And she was amazing."
He turned toward her and let his eyes wander over her
perfect features. Her dark expression looked back on
him with quiet understanding, but she said nothing.
"She was like a bright light in the middle of the
blackest portion of space for me. I started caring
about what she wanted -- and it mattered -- more than
what I wanted. And that was alien to me." Riker
shifted where he stood. "It made me reevaluate my
life; all the things I wanted. Until that moment, I
had it all planned out. Then all of a sudden, none of
it seemed to work anymore. Everything just flipped
on its head in a matter of months and I wanted to
marry her more than anything -- but where did the
rest of it go? Where did that leave my career, my
plans? I felt like I was betraying of all people --
myself." Riker frowned and drew one hand backward
through his hair. "I'm admitting this to you at the
same time as I'm admitting this to her, professor
Tem, because I want you both to know that whatever
happened between the two of you while I was being
that kid; while she and I were both suffering;
whatever you did to make it right again for her, I
will always be grateful to you for."
His steel blue eyes lifted and held the older
man's obsidian expression. "I *am* grateful to you
for it. Right now. Not the kid that I was, but the
man that I am today." He paused thoughtfully,
drawing out his next breath. "Because I didn't
realize what I'd lost in breaking my promise to her
until a lot of years later, when we began serving
together on board the Enterprise. I asked myself
every day afterwards why she forgave me. But she
did." Riker turned to Troi and took one of her hands
in his, facing her directly. "She did," his eyes
found hers. "And maybe I had a reason for being an
idiot once, when I was only a kid. But I sure as
hell don't have one anymore. And I would be that
idiot if I didn't thank God for her presence in my
life again." Will's expression broke from Deanna's
and settled on Garion Tem, "and if I didn't thank
you, sir. For being there for her when I wouldn't.
For making the sacrifices you made because you loved
her in a way that I couldn't. And because I know,
maybe better than anyone else in the universe, what
it means to fall in love with Deanna; and to know she
loves you back."
Riker finished with a slow exhale. The room
was utterly silent and it remained that way for a
long time. Lifting his hand to brush away evidence
of the counselor's emotion from her eyes, Riker
offered her the touch of a smile but he left the
silence sacred. Even Lwaxana was staring at him
wordlessly; the look on her face was unlike any he
had ever witnessed from her before.
In point of fact, the quiet was so tangible
that it almost seemed eerie when Garion Tem did
finally speak. "William," he moved forward, placing
his hand on the shoulder of the younger man. "You
honor me with your candor, and with your words."
Riker stared at the professor for a moment
before he chuckled ruefully. "I sincerely hope so,
sir. That is what I'd intended. And if there's
anything illustrative of the difference a few years
can make, it's the fact that if I were still that
young kid right now, I'd have honored you with my
fist for what happened between you and Deanna."
Garion's eyes widened briefly. Troi looked
startled; her gaze shifted from the one man to the
other before the professor began to laugh. "You've
made your point very well, Commander."
Riker grinned. Extending his hand in an
identical gesture to the one Garion offered him
earlier in the day; Will caught the older man's hand
and shook it firmly.
"The First House is privileged that you are to
join us, and I would be honored to embrace you as
family." Tem inclined his head.
:::I'm very proud of you, William::: Lwaxana's
voice suddenly echoed in his thoughts and he turned
toward her, an amazed smile on his face. He was
amazed, because he'd never considered how much her
saying those words might affect him. Even though
they'd certainly had their share of differences over
the years. Tonight was a night of firsts for Will
Riker. The ambassador stood and smiled back, but
Riker was somehow certain that he alone had heard her
thought.
In an instant of mercy, the tension in the room
finally broke and they were once again four adults
having an amicable conversation. Without realizing
when it had happened, Riker found his hand had
somehow rejoined Deanna's and she'd wound her fingers
through his.
Garion Tem on the other hand, formed an
expression which took a turn for the mysterious.
"Deanna," the professor's eyes narrowed, "I don't
suppose you and Will are married to the idea of a
formal Betazoid ceremony, if you'll pardon the
somewhat bleak pun."
With a curious smile, Troi turned toward Riker
and the two exchanged a look. Something passed
between them; something neither Tem nor Lwaxana would
ever be certain of, but Deanna turned back and
regarded Garion an instant later. "I don't think so,
many of our guests will be human as it is," she
tilted her head. "Why?"
"Do you recall all those years ago, when I was
describing to you the ancient rite?"
Troi's mouth fell open and she turned hear
head, obviously caught in a memory. Lwaxana was
regarding the entire scenario with nervous eyes, but
Deanna's expression transformed her face with a look
of wonder. "Can you be serious?" her eyes locked
with Tem's.
"What is that saying?" Garion frowned at Riker.
He thinned his lips as though the answer to his
question resided in the younger man's head. Suddenly
he smiled. "Ah yes ... serious as a heart attack, my
dear."
"That's archaic." Riker smirked.
"Will," Deanna admonished. "Garion is a
scholar of ancient culture. He's forgotten more
about Earth's history than you probably ever knew."
"Earth's history, Betazed's history, Tagri
Prime's history -- I have far too much prattling
around in this old brain of mine. The *point* is
that I have an idea. Actually," he turned to Troi,
"it was originally Deanna's idea, but I now have the
resources to make it happen."
In a moment of animation, Troi turned to Riker
and smiled brightly. "Garion and I discussed this
years ago, when we were talking about our wedding
plans."
If it had been biologically possible, Riker's
eyes might have fallen right out of his skull.
"Your-?"
"OUR, wedding plans." Deanna laughed and moved
her hands between their proximal bodies. "yours and
mine you big ape. The ones that fell through."
"Oh, those wedding plans." Riker shrugged
apologetically, hopeful that the conversation
wouldn't become any more of a stumbling block for his
already muddled brain. Somehow, he even felt like a
'big ape' right at the moment. He thought about
pretending he had a clue where things were headed but
finally gave up, sighed and shook his head. "Deanna,
you've totally lost me."
"Well, you're not alone, William," Lwaxana
unexpected agreement chimed in from behind them all.
"I certainly hope the two of you are going to
elaborate." She scowled good-naturedly at Tem and
frowned at Deanna, who merely smiled.
"Without question, Lwaxana." Professor Tem
took a regal step into the center of the parlor,
affording each of its occupants a pointed glance.
"Let us discuss the marriage -- of Riker and Troi."
--o--
//
--------
Chapter 83
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Seek the wisdom of the ages, but look at the world
through the eyes of a child."
--Ron Wild
--------
Silence. It was comforting in a way. Riker
lay alone in his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling.
Shadows shifted through a nearby window; moving
across the ceiling forming a kaleidoscope-like
pattern through which the branches of some great tree
seemed barely visible outside.
When it was nearly midnight, they had adjourned
their parlor meeting. Satisfied at the course of
events, the four of them had spoken their good
nights. A trickle of air escaped Will's lips. It
was going to be unlike anything he'd ever experienced
before. But in a way that was fitting. Deanna was
certainly excited about it and they'd probably need
to rehearse most of the day tomorrow if they were
going to pull it off. The look in her eyes though;
the way they lit up like a kid's at the prospect of
something so incredible. He could have lived in that
moment forever.
Relaxing his gaze, Riker turned over, watching
a pair of dancing shadows play tag on the surface of
the wall. Here he was, a grown man. A Starfleet
Commander; helpless when it came to those enormous,
incredible eyes of hers. The barest whisper of a
smile touched his lips. Oh yeah, he was definitely a
goner.
Lwaxana had surprised him as well. When Garion
Tem mentioned the trading of bracelets as prescribed
by the ritual, Riker had brought up the way tradition
still upheld on Earth, the use of rings; the fact
that he still kept his mother's. He had brought the
fact up as an incidental, but the Ambassador's
expression shifted. Her eyes focused on a far-away
thought and that was when she'd told them. She and
Ian had done the same thing, and she too had kept the
circlets. It was almost perfect; that they might be
able to combine even a tiny element of their human
heritage into the otherwise Betazoid ceremony --
albeit an older ceremony than the one Lwaxana had
hoped for. He and Deanna would trade a piece of
their past and their parents -- in the joining of
their futures.
It was embroiled in such thoughts that Will
felt his eyes begin to close, his imagination drift,
and the warm welcome of sleep descend to envelop him.
Some moments later, his consciousness slipped beyond
the boundaries of wakefulness, into a dream...
*
He woke to the shattering crash of his
heartbeat against the inside wall of his chest.
Riker shot up in bed, his hand clutched the coverlet
at his waist and his breathing pulled a gasp from his
lungs.
Shutting his eyes and forcing himself to
swallow, the images of the nightmare coalesced around
him; sharper and clearer than before. They arrived
along with the realization that these were not his
images; nor was this his own dream.
Deanna.
He was suddenly certain. His mind found hers;
the panic and the helpless terror. She was awake,
she would have awoken in the instant he had. But she
was in far worse shape. Throwing his legs off the
side of the bed, Riker reached for a nearby chair and
pulled on a pair of loose-fitting pants. He ran his
hand back through his hair and shook his head to
loose it of the grip that her terror created.
Riker's purpose lead him to the doorway of his
room, but progress halted abruptly when the entry
panel slid aside -- and he nearly collided with
Deanna.
She was wearing one of his shirts; a very old
shirt as a matter of fact. It was one of the gray
Academy t-shirt he'd imagined that he lost -- nearly
eleven years ago. Tonight it covered her slight
body; hung loosely from her shoulders and fell nearly
to her knees. But it wasn't the sight of his shirt
that nearly made him shiver.. It was the look in her
eyes. The haunted, ashen expression she wore while
the fall of raven curls he loved so well spilled down
over her shoulders. There was a great deal to be
said for the light of her skin against the dark of
her hair. Even in the trickle of starlight which
filtered into the hallway from his quarters.
For a moment, the shock of the scenario seemed
to startle both of them. They stood where they'd
frozen, staring at one another in the midst of the
darkened corridor. But it was only for a moment.
Reaching for her through the darkness, Riker
drew her beyond the portal of his room and shut the
door. He pulled her into his arms and wrapped them
around her, cringing when the bite of her nails met
the skin on his back. She wasn't doing it on
purpose, that went without question.
"Shh." He whispered into her hair. "It was
only a dream, Sparks. It's over now..." The side
of her face dusted the front of his chest and he felt
her inhale a slow, deliberate breath.
"It isn't over," she held him fiercely. "How
can it be over when I let him die that way? I could
have saved him but I let him die." Her tears were
warm and wet on his skin. "Will, he trusted me! I
told him that it would be okay. He believed me."
"You didn't know, Deanna." Riker's hands moved
to the top of her head. "All of those other children
are alive right now because of you. It was horrible
what happened to Avrim, but there was nothing you
could have done."
She didn't respond, her emotions shifted and a
wash of despair flooded Riker's entire being. He
nearly staggered with its impact, but by some
miracle, managed to hold himself steady and to lend
her the measure of strength that she was so
desperately searching for.
"Come here." He pressed his lips to the top of
her head. "Come on." Drawing his arm around her
shoulders he pulled her with him to the bed and sat
them both on its edge. He reached out with his
fingers and lifted an errant curl from the edge of
her face, smiling when she turned toward his hand.
Without speaking or asking, Riker lifted her
legs onto the bed and drew the cover over her. He
slipped in beside her and they lay in the center of
the large mattress, both on their sides, face to
face.
"Tell me about Avrim." He continued to draw
the hair from the side of her face and he pulled at
the blanket until it lay atop her shoulder. Deanna
exhaled an unsteady breath. Her eyes lost focus as
she recalled...
"He must have been, not more than six years
old." Troi's lips curled into a slight smile. "He
was very excited about his trip, and-" the glow in
her expression melted away. "-to help with such an
important mission."
Riker met her eyes, though only a matter of
inches separated their faces. "DaiMon Thoth told
them all that they were doing something important.
Didn't he?"
She nodded mutely. "They were all so proud.
They were children, Will. Children are often proud
to feel that they're of help in an adult situation."
"That's the Counselor in you speaking, Deanna.
What about the person who had to watch that little
boy die?" Riker asked the question knowing it would
tear at her soul to answer it. It was one of those
moments in life when he wished he could have been
anyone else, if only so that he wouldn't be the
reason for her pain. She needed to answer.
Deanna's eyes filled with tears. "He warned
me," she whispered. "He told me that he would kill
Avrim if I -- if I didn't cooperate. I thought-"
her words trailed off and she shut her eyes. Riker
watched a silent teardrop roll over her lip. His
touch caressed her cheek but he said nothing until
she opened her eyes once more.
Deanna's dark eyes found their focus again and
she stared at him resolutely. The words she spoke
next were uttered with the conviction of an officer
on trial. "I didn't believe he would do it, at
first. He needed the children to keep the ship a
secret."
"But he did do it."
Again, she nodded wordlessly. "It happened in
an instant. I agreed to cooperate. I had an idea
for the children. Avrim was with us on the bridge.
But then that monster turned and he lifted his weapon
and in one flash, that beautiful child was just --
gone."
"You could never have known that, Deanna."
Riker's serious gaze settled on her; his blue eyes
caught the starlight from the window and she was held
by his look. "That child died because DaiMon Thoth
was insane. He was crazy and you know better than
anyone else that it's impossible to predict the
outcome of a madman's vision. You did what you
thought was right. You got thirty-six other children
off that ship safely, back to their homes and their
parents. What happened to that little boy was a
tragic horror story, and I won't pretend that I think
it's going to be simple to forget something like
that, but you've got to forgive yourself first. The
blame for Avrim's death rests solely on the shoulders
of that lunatic." He brushed his hand tenderly
across her lips. "You've got to believe that there
was nothing -- *nothing* -- you could possibly have
done differently that would have saved his life. Do
you?" Riker's expression never left hers; she looked
back at him with large eyes but said nothing. "Do
you know that, Deanna?"
Troi exhaled a sharp sob, she closed her eyes
and let the tears fall, but she nodded. The motion
of her head was the only indication of her answer;
the fact that she did know -- but that she grieved
for the life of a little boy who would never grow up;
for the parents of a child who had lost so much. And
that as a Counselor, and as an empath, she knew
exactly what the future would hold for everyone who
ever loved that boy.
"Now is not forever." Riker whispered, pulling
her forward the short distance it took to have her
close in his arms another time.
Cloaked in their intimate embrace, Deanna drew
her body snug with his; breathed in the warmth of his
familiar scent and laid her head against his chest.
It was some time before she knew the tears had
stopped. But he never let go, even when she was
certain it mustn't have been very comfortable for him
to hold on.
"Stay with me tonight," she finally whispered.
"All night. I don't want to be alone."
Riker looked down at her. They had opted to
spend this night apart before their wedding; made the
decision for a lot of reasons that seemed completely
trivial right now -- most of which had concerned the
possibility that if they spent the night together,
they might not maintain the willpower to delay a
physically intimate union.
Deanna's expression softened at the tumble of
his thoughts. She lifted her hand from beneath the
cover and placed it against his bearded cheek,
smiling slightly. When he looked as though he were
about to answer, her body moved forward and her lips
grazed his.
"Making love can be a hundred different
things," her quiet voice caressed his mouth before
she kissed him, barely. They were a heartbeat apart;
breath mingling; faces so close that if he moved his
lips, he could feel her skin shift beneath them.
"Tonight, I need you to stay with me. To love me any
way you choose. I need to be with you."
Her admission didn't startle him nearly as
acutely as the fact that he could feel the truth of
her request as keenly as though it were his own.
Closing both eyes, Riker took her lips with his and
kissed the warmth he found there; drew their mouths
together over and over again until he'd lost track of
the instances; until he didn't care beyond the
feeling of her nearness. The moment was entirely
sensual, but it had nothing to do with sex.
Shifting his arms around her, Riker pulled her
close and turned so that she lay with her back
against his chest. They were spooned in a way that
was the reverse to the first time it had happened.
He felt the brush of her hair against his skin and
inhaled the scent of her shampoo. Drawing his hand
around her waist in front, he used the arm to hold
onto her.
Deanna neither protested nor commented on the
arrangement. She allowed him to position their
bodies as he would. The only indication she gave of
her approval was an affectionate tip of her head
against his shoulder when they finally came to rest.
They fell asleep together; surrounded by the
glow of a new and familiar understanding.
--o--
--------
Chapter 84
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The only real voyage of discovery consists
not in seeking new landscapes but in having new
eyes."
--Marcel Proust
--------
It was raining fairy dust.
Beverly Crusher materialized from transport in
the afternoon Betazoid sunshine and lifted her eyes
skyward. The Janaran sea rumbled in the distance and
the wind on the seashore caught her long red hair,
dusting it against her face.
Standing in the warm sand opposite her Captain,
Crusher had little to say when she extended her hand
and collected a sampling of shimmering particles from
the air.
"What is this?" Picard glanced around them.
They had arrived on schedule at prearranged transport
coordinates but there was no one there to greet them;
neither their ship's Counselor, nor their first
officer -- nor even a soul in sight.
"I'm not sure." Beverly smiled her fascination
while several shiny particles settled on her delicate
civilian dress. Shifting her hand toward her waist,
she reached for a device that was always with her.
Picard tilted his head and she realized that the
motion of her arm must have appeared odd. Her
current attire seemed an impossible hiding place for
a Tricorder.
"Doctor." Picard placed his hand on her arm.
"Perhaps it would be more interesting if we didn't
know?"
"Alright." Crusher dropped her hand but her
eyes were alight with mischief. "My grandmother
would have said that there were fairies about."
"Now *that* is much more interesting already."
Offering her his arm, Picard smiled when she took it.
"Fairies," he echoed.
"It's amazing how it seems to float in the air
like this. Look at all the colors...." With one
hand drifting over the contents of her palm, Crusher
allowed the substance to slip through her fingers and
glide toward the ground. "I don't understand where
it's coming from."
At her prompting, Picard lifted his eyes toward
the heavens, examining an apparently cloudless
horizon. "If I had to guess, I would imagine this to
be yet another example of Ambassador Troi's far
reaching influence."
"Look over there." Beverly pulled back on his
arm and pointed down the beach. Picard followed her
gaze. Several hundred meters from their position was
an enormous glass structure. Only partially
enclosed, it had no roof of its own but seemed
otherwise to span a significant distance. The
amazing part was that it looked to be entirely
transparent.
Inside were chairs and tables, all empty, all
equally transparent. The effect was almost surreal;
as though the structure itself existed somewhere
between realities, shifting and rippling in the
brilliance of Betazed's single sun.
"Remarkable," Picard whispered under his
breath. "Have you ever seen anything like that?"
"Not in my lifetime." Crusher exhaled softly
and turned toward him. "It'll be different for you,
not to be performing the ceremony this time."
"Oh, I don't mind that part a bit." Picard
offered her a rueful smile. "I much prefer to be in
the audience at these sorts of functions and besides,
I'm just grateful that we'll all be clothed for the
duration-"
"That was a surprise, wasn't it?" Beverly cut
in. "I had to read the message twice this morning, I
was sure they were going to do a traditional
ceremony."
"Well you know what they say about 'gift
horses', Doctor...."
"Oh, I don't know Jean-Luc, I think it might
have been fun." She stared at him pointedly until he
cleared his throat and turned his head. If he'd been
imagining what she thought he might have been, the
moment certainly hadn't been reflected in his
carefully neutral expression.
"Well, it looks as though the weather will be
cooperating, at least." He took a step toward the
water and then stopped.
"The wedding isn't for a few more hours."
Crusher regarded him from where she stood.
"Weddings." He spoke so quietly; she almost
hadn't heard him. "They're such -- intriguing
ceremonies, are they not?" Picard was staring out at
the water when Beverly came up beside him.
"What do you mean?"
"If you think about it, in almost every
sentient culture we've encountered, a wedding
signifies the promise of forever." He paused. "We
stand before our gods, whomever they may be, and we
vow to spend the rest of our existence with one
person. Or in most cases it's one person, with very
little exception. But how are we to know what
tomorrow will bring? How are we all so timelessly
arrogant as to think for even an instant that such a
promise would never be tested?"
"We're arrogant," Beverly replied, "because we
have hope; just as we have hope for any other aspect
of our future. We have to feel hopeful that there
will always be some way to make it through our
'tests' -- what other option is there?"
"The option not to make a promise one cannot
know that one will be able to keep."
"For a while, after Jack died, I might have
agreed with you." Standing next to Picard, Crusher
exhaled slowly. "My notion of forever was a little
tarnished. But I had Wesley to consider; his notion
of forever was only confused. It wasn't going to be
irreparably damaged unless I helped it along. I
chose not to do that." Crusher offered Picard a
pointed look and he nodded in understanding. "The
thing was, somewhere along the way, the anger I was
feeling began to change. I woke up one morning and I
realized that I wasn't just putting on a brave front
for my son anymore. I really did believe it might be
possible to love again someday. I was already on
board the Enterprise when that happened."
Picard didn't respond. He examined the
crashing shoreline with thoughtful eyes.
"I think it's wonderful that Will and Deanna
are brave enough to take this step." Crusher went on.
"No matter how late it seems, or what they had to go
through to get here. Today is a new beginning and
I'm proud of them both."
"And so am I, Beverly," he finally whispered.
"Perhaps-"
"Perhaps you're thinking that one man's today
is another man's tomorrow." She interjected before
he'd been able to finish his sentence. For a moment,
he stared back mutely, eyes locked with hers.
"I suppose there will always be tomorrow, won't
there Doctor?"
"That's been my experience." She smiled.
"Well then," he sighed. "Shall we make our way
toward civilization while there's still light? It
appears for one reason or another, that we've been
'stood up'."
"I think you're right." Crusher regarded the
thin layer sparkling particles that lay atop his
shoulder.
"There's certainly no one here." He nodded.
"I meant about tomorrow." Beverly raised her
gaze and met his eyes.
Picard tilted his head toward his shoulder.
"Fairy dust?" He smiled, extending a hand, which
she took.
Together, the two walked arm-in-arm toward the
enormous transparent structure in the distance.
--o--
--------
Chapter 85
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"You cannot discover new oceans unless you have the
courage to lose sight of the shore."
--------
The hour was upon them. The guests had
arrived. The candles were lit -- all five thousand
of them -- and Deanna Troi looked out from a
carefully hidden spot in the background of such
magnificence. Shards of firelight shimmered against
the transparent surface of the great enclosure; they
danced with the patterns of a late afternoon sun and
reflected against the gossamer particles in the air.
The area was immense. Easily spanning a
thousand meters in any one direction, it was open to
the roar of the sea in several places; open
everywhere to the sky. With such tenuous boundaries,
it provided only the illusion of enclosure; like a
giant crystal hallway filled with voices; some
telepathic, others spoken; all of them experiencing
the same sort of awe at the sight of their
surroundings. She could feel the steady pulse of
their wonder as though it were blood in her veins.
Garion Tem had come through on his promise -- with a
little help from the indomitable Lwaxana Troi.
Deanna had expressed only moderate reserve at
the reminder of certain portions of the ceremony. It
was old; older than anyone still living on their
planet and it involved a measure of ritual which
hadn't been touched in over three centuries. For
some, the fact that it was older meant that it had to
be less civilized. She smiled at that. If there was
any truth which her Starfleet training and subsequent
service on board the Enterprise had shown her, it was
the value of compromise.
In the end, she knew that this version of the
ancient Betazoid rite would probably shock them all.
Not even Garion could be certain of the outcome. And
they had only recorded history in order to prepare
them. With such uncertainty in conclusion, it would
be an adventure. That was the point entirely. It
had been the point from the moment she'd learned of
the ceremony over a decade ago. To be married as no
one else had in three hundred years!
Will hadn't seemed to mind. In fact, he'd
gone along with the idea so willingly at first, it
seemed as though he didn't care either way. But she
knew him as so few others did. She knew that he did
care; that he was also pleased with older ceremony,
and the cross-cultural similarities between his home
and hers. With her heartbeat racing against the
inside of her chest, Deanna shut her eyes. The
pressure of a hand on her shoulder returned her focus
to the present.
"You look enchanting. Like an angel." Garion
Tem stepped in behind her, smiling as she turned.
"I've never been so nervous in all my life."
Troi placed her hand to her heart and exhaled slowly.
"But happy." He amended. "They can feel your
happiness across the province."
"Thank you," she whispered. "For everything."
"For nothing. You were born for this day. You
and Riker both."
"Are you certain of the song?" she asked
suddenly.
"As certain as a man who has studied all his
life might be."
"I didn't mean that-"
"I know." He smiled warmly. "Your mother is
worried. She doesn't believe the way that you do.
But the choir will sing. There is power there. You
will feel it when it happens. We will all feel it."
He shook his head slowly. "A planet of telepaths and
we live in fear or our past. We need not sequester
ourselves for the remainder of eternity. Our
ancestors made grave errors in judgment, but this
ceremony -- was not one of them."
"I know." She took his hand and squeezed it.
"Then may your spirit be light on this day,
daughter of the fifth house. For you embark upon a
new tomorrow."
=|=
Riker let out a breath and brushed one hand across
the sleeve of his shirt. In his tenure with
Starfleet, he'd been in situations tense enough to
rattle the bones of any seasoned admiral. But none
of those served to offer him comfort from the armada
of soldiers which seemed intent on marching through
his chest cavity these past two hours. He was
nervous as hell. That part was undeniable. Riker
exhaled again. Then swallowed for good measure.
His hand lingered on the cuff of his sleeve.
Here was another thing. While the ceremony would fly
in the face of recent Betazoid tradition, the
clothing he wore was unlike anything he'd ever seen
at a wedding before -- on any planet.
Dark and rich, the fabric appeared to change
color under the light; shifting so as only to hint at
the altered state. For a two-piece ensemble, it
might conceivably have been a throw-back to the
tuxedo on Earth and yet its neck was higher and it
hung on his body in a way that -- even he had to
admit -- was a lot more flattering than he'd first
imagined. Notoriously unimpressed when it came to
fancy clothing, he had balked at the garment at
first. But now that it was on, he found it wasn't
half bad. Of course, Deanna hadn't seen him yet.
And he had no idea what she would think.
"I guess one penguin suit is as good as any
other," he mumbled sullenly to himself.
"Will Riker?" A low feminine voice startled
him and he turned. "You... look... terrific..." She
drew out each word until he cleared his throat and
pulled at his collar self-consciously.
"Uh, thanks doc."
Beverly Crusher was circling him like a cat,
and definitely admiring the view. The fact that she
was one of his closest friends made the entire
scenario just a little bit odd. She glanced up at
him, beaming at the expression on his face.
"Wow. Amazing. You know, you don't look a
thing like you usually do."
He threw her a lopsided smile. "If that's a
compliment, I don't know whether I like it."
"Mmm! If you weren't about to get married-"
Her eyes sparkled and he was about to respond with
something other than the off center grin he'd been
sporting, when the Captain of the Enterprise appeared
behind her.
"Number One," Jean-Luc Picard traded a glance
between Crusher's obviously pleased expression and
the uncomfortable stance of his first officer. "I
must say that in all our years of serving together, I
don't think I've ever seen you quite so -- well
attired."
Riker laughed. "I should lose the uniform more
often, I guess."
"Maybe we all should." Beverly turned a glance
on Picard who shifted where he stood.
"Well," the Captain cut in, "the moment has
arrived, as they say. Are you certain you're ready
for this?" He smiled broadly, eliciting a grin from
Will.
"Not a chance, sir."
"High marks for honesty." Crusher moved
forward and straightened a portion of his collar.
"Obsessive habit?" He grinned at her.
She huffed indignantly. "Men have no clue."
"Mm." Picard smirked. "That's why we marry, I
imagine." Beverly turned and threw him a look.
"Has Deanna seen you?" The doctor returned to
her task, then stepped away, regarding her work
appraisingly.
"I haven't actually seen her in about two
hours." Riker shrugged. "We rehearsed for most of
the day and then they whisked us to separate
quarters. I was just going to go-"
"You're not going anywhere." Crusher's command
intervened. "There's an Earth tradition we're going
to honor as of this moment and it's bad enough you've
already seen her most of the morning. You're not
seeing her again until the ceremony." She pinned him
with a sharp look.
"This isn't an Earth ceremony." Riker tipped
his head with a smirk.
Crusher crossed her arms over her chest and met
his gaze directly. "Try me."
With a pleading glance at his Captain, who
offered only a helpless shrug, Riker sighed, lifting
his hands in defeat. "Okay. You win."
"And I didn't even need this." Crusher tossed
a small metal vial in the air and caught it with the
same hand.
"You would have drugged me?"
"Only for a little while." She responded with
such innocent sincerity that Riker shook his head in
amazement.
"Have *you* seen Deanna?" he asked. Crusher
offered him a wordless smile. "Come on, doc... gimme
a break here!"
"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."
Beverly admonished, then sighed. "You're as pathetic
as a kid in a candy store, you know that Commander?"
Riker grinned. "More pathetic I hope. I
don't think Wesley saw much candy as a child.." He
threw a glance at his Captain and saw the other man's
smile.
"Will.." Crusher walked toward him and then
stopped, placing her palm over his chest. "Women are
a lot harder to impress than men are when it comes to
another woman's appearance. But even I have to admit
that Deanna looks..." Crusher paused and then smirked
impishly.
For a time, Riker merely gawked at her, waiting
for the rest of the sentence. When it didn't come,
he lifted his hands. "What? You're stopping there?"
"I couldn't possibly do it justice." She
shrugged. "You'll just have to wait and see."
He raked his hands back through his hair,
tousling an already rugged coif. "You're killing me
here, you know that?"
She's been about to respond when a pretty young
Betazoid ducked into the room and halted just inside
the doorway. Her dark eyes swept over the three
occupants and then settled on Riker, obviously
appreciative. As though realizing she had been
silent for longer than was proper for a new entrance,
she smiled sweetly and tipped her head. "They're
ready for you now." Her eyes met with Will's and
there was a moment which lasted only slightly longer
than it should have.
"Thanks." Riker tilted his head, offering the
young woman a dazzling grin as she departed.
Beverly watched the exchange. If she had to
guess, she would have bet her last credit chip on the
fact that he hadn't been thanking their guest for the
verbal announcement.
--o--
--------
Chapter 86
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Take my hand, we're off to never-never land..."
--------
Dusk came with the swell of evening's kiss;
touched the cool caress of a seashore's salty air.
It filled the enclosure with sparkling mist.
Tracing the edge of her own cheek with her
hand, Deanna collected the shimmering substance on
her fingertips and turned her arms over, examining
the play of the light on her skin.
The time was almost right.
There would be magic tonight. Magic such as
Betazed had known and then forgotten. Magic she had
dreamed of as a girl and realized was possible as a
young woman. The horizon glowed with it. Pulsed in
harmony with the beating of her heart so that she
knew; so that they all might know.
The time was now.
From the farthest reaches of the crystal
hallway there were voices. The low hum of a choir.
Barely audible. It silenced the crowd where they
stood. It silenced their conversations and their
telepathic observances. It silenced the forest and
the wind. But it could not silence the sea.
Deanna tipped her head backward and closed her
eyes. The warm fall of her hair caressed the skin on
her back while the garment she wore shifted
listlessly around her body, bourn into motion with
the breeze. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.
She listened to the faint whisper of the music;
touched by a song with no lyrics.
"Are you ready?" Lwaxana Troi moved in behind
her daughter, reviving her from the moment.
Deanna opened bright eyes and hugged her
mother. The older woman was crying, but perhaps
that was to be expected. Lwaxana's most fervent wish
had forever seemed to culminate in the wedding of her
daughter.
"Oh, my little one! You look so beautiful, I
think we may need to revive that fiance of yours once
he sees you."
Deanna smiled brightly; wordlessly.
"It's almost time now. You'll go in together,
don't forget. Have you written the-"
"Yes, mother." Deanna wrinkled her nose when a
tiny shimmering particle landed right on it.
"Mother, did you-?"
The Ambassador shook her head. "I thought it
was Garion."
Troi lifted her gaze skyward. "He said it was
you."
"Perhaps we needn't question the gift." Garion
Tem stepped quietly into view. He was garbed for the
ceremony; for he would be taking the Captain's place
as the officiator of the evening. Deanna smiled at
him.
"This is amazing," she whispered. "Part of me
isn't certain it's real."
"Oh it's real my darling," Lwaxana Troi
smoothed the line of her gown with a regal gesture.
"Real enough to warrant the attendance of the
Chancellor herself."
"The Chancellor is here?" Deanna threw her
mother a look of surprise.
"Yes. Along with the heads of each of the
great houses. It will be the first time in nearly a
century that they've all been in the same place at
the same time. Imagine!"
"I'm trying!" Troi shook her head. "It's only
a wedding. *My* wedding. What could possibly be so-
"
"Power." Tem sighed. "A union of the first
and the fifth houses -- symbolic though it may be --
is an indication of a shift in the balance of power.
So it has been for centuries. You, are being awarded
the respect which such a union should warrant.
Beyond that-" His eyes lit with mirth. "We are
putting on quite a show, don't you think?"
Deanna looked to Garion and then to her mother
before her gaze fell. "It's beautiful," she
whispered. "My only wish is that Chandra could be
here. We planned to be together again at each of our
weddings."
"Oh, darling, I know." Lwaxana placed her hand
on her daughter's arm. "She and Teb aren't even in
the sector, but I've relayed the news to them. There
was just so little time. I'm sure she'll be here in
spirit, as she would be in body, if she were able."
Regarding her daughter's expression gravely, Lwaxana
offered a smile. "Besides, for this ceremony, you
won't require the traditional summons."
"I know." Deanna shrugged. "It wasn't that. I
just-"
A pretty young Betazoid ducked into the room
and halted just inside the doorway. Her dark eyes
swept over the three occupants and then settled on
Deanna. She smiled sweetly. "They're ready for
you now." Her eyes met with Troi's and there was a
moment which lasted only slightly longer than it
should have.
"Thank you." Deanna tilted her head, offering
the young woman a slight smile as she departed.
Lwaxana watched the exchange. If she had to
guess, she would have bet the sacred Chalice on the
fact that her daughter had not been thanking the girl
for any verbal announcement.
=|=
Emergence was sweet. The air was filled with a
floral scent and the breeze from the water's edge was
light. Garion Tem stood at the head of the great
hallway. Moving with regal grace toward a crystal
podium, he finally stopped and a hush fell over the
crowd. A hush which was deeper still than the one
which the choir had earlier engendered.
"I feel like I'm starring in a show." Will
Riker whispered to his companion, tugging self
consciously at one of his jacket cuffs. The material
shifted easily and he frowned at it for lack of a
struggle.
"You are my boy! You are. And what an event!"
An older Betazoid man chuckled beside him. He had
introduced himself as Marcus Olian, or rather, been
introduced by Garion Tem. The ceremony prescribed as
a complete stranger for both the bride and the groom.
Someone 'unknown to them' who would stand at their
sides until 'the emergence' was over.
At first, Riker had nearly been ready to ask
exactly which 'emergence' that was, but memories of
the earlier rehearsal floated back through his
consciousness and he recalled: "The Emergence" was
the short distance between where he now stood and the
center of it all; the apex of the incredible
crystalline structure. They would emerge together;
he and Deanna, and there would be no pomp and
circumstance as was customary in most Earth and some
Betazoid ceremonies. Certainly there was no 'aisle',
nor would either of them walk any length of distance.
It would be simple by comparison, and yet infinitely
more complex.
Riker sucked in a breath. Historically,
Betazed was a matriarchal society. The female heads
of each of the great houses still held as a reminder
of those older traditions, and there had never been
any 'giving away' of the bride the way Earth custom
dictated over the centuries. It was interesting
therefore, that this particular ceremony was probably
the most egalitarian he had ever heard of. For Earth
or Betazed. Everything seemed shared, right down to
the vows.
The vows. Riker swallowed and threw a glance
at the older man beside him, hoping the action went
unnoticed. Would he remember what he'd written?
With his heart hammering so loudly against the inside
of his chest cavity, it was frankly a wonder he could
hear himself think at the moment. He'd be lucky not
to botch the whole thing up. But maybe that was
typical of him, never getting things 'right' in the
romantic department. He could command the greatest
of starships, fight a war and lead an army into deep
space -- but when he looked down into those dark,
soulful eyes, it was usually all he could do to
remember to breathe. He inhaled sharply, proving
his own point.
"You will be fine, my boy. Just fine." Marcus
Olian smiled up at him. Up, because he was shorter
by almost a full head; yet his presence implied an
unspoken greatness. Riker found that he was smiling
back. It was a crooked smile, but then nothing about
him seemed to be sitting in the right place just now.
A crooked smile would have to do.
Marcus chuckled softly, shaking his head at
some unknown thought. He patted Riker's shoulder
just as Garion Tem began to speak. They watched from
the sidelines, awaiting their cue.
"You hear now a song." Tem began. "The notes
are foreign but the melody is not. We remember
tonight, as Betazed remembers -- the voices of many."
His words commanded attention, though he looked out
on those assembled with wise and smiling eyes. "On
Earth, there is a saying: Dearly beloved, we are
gathered here this day..."
Riker's lip turned up at the corner and the old
man next to him smiled.
Garion paused for a moment, his focus
unwavering. "And here we are. Gathered here for the
purpose of joining through marriage, the lives of two
individuals. The houses of the first and the fifth."
A murmur rose up from the crowd. "A union, not only
in life -- but forever in spirit."
The echo of the scholar's voice seemed to cause
the delicate enclosure to shiver, or maybe the
immediacy of the moment had made Riker slightly
giddy. In either event, the constant hum of the
choir's barely audible intonation had begun to *feel*
different; if that were possible.
"I call upon Deanna Troi, daughter of the fifth
house of Betazed, and William Riker son of the planet
Earth and child of Betazed..." another murmur arose,
but fell silent almost immediately. "That they may
step forward and receive -- in the light of the gods
-- the pledge of the place of marriage."
With the gentle insistence of Marcus Olian at
his back, Riker took his first steps forward, moving
with surprising ease toward the center of the
enclosure. He saw, from the opposite side, two other
figures who were doing the same.
Time slowed, the force of reality liquefied as
in a dream and Riker placed one foot directly in
front of the other. He could feel the caress of the
breeze in his hair; smell the sea-salt in the evening
sand. He'd been in this place for nearly the
entirety of a day and yet he'd never actually seen it
until this moment.
The glass was magnificent; there were shards of
it everywhere. They flickered and shifted in the
light of a fiery, crimson sunset. Shimmering
particles drifted in weightless wonder through the
enclosure as though they were droplets of mist, yet
their touch was soft and feathery on his skin. Fairy
dust. Beverly had mentioned fairy dust before she'd
taken her seat. He hadn't understood her then. But
now ... a slight smile touched the corners of his
lips. He kept it hidden, because it didn't seem
appropriate somehow, not before-
Riker raised his head. He and Marcus were
nearly a meter away from Garion Tem. They had
arrived at the apex of the atrium. He hadn't seen
Deanna yet. He had purposefully kept himself from
examining her closely during the walk. But now he
allowed his gaze to lift; noticed the retreating form
of the woman who stood with his fiance just as Marcus
Olian stood backward as well. Will collected a deep
and cleansing breath. Through the dancing, almost
magical light of the artificial enclosure, his eyes
swept upward from the floor.
He saw her; for the first time since she had
been spirited away. He saw her ... and his lungs
refused to draw another breath.
--o--
--------
Chapter 87
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Fly away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in
your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
--Mark Twain
--------
Her lips slightly parted; her dark eyes filled
with ... something indescribable ... Deanna Troi
glanced up where she stood. Her gaze traveled slowly
from the crystalline floor beneath their feet, along
Riker's body, and then to his face.
She was radiant. So beautiful, the thunder of
his heartbeat filled his ears. Everything shivered
and slowed in the moment their eyes met and locked.
He saw the smile in her eyes before it happened.
Before it lit her features with a dance of emotion.
Deanna was laughing at him. He could tell by the
tilt of her still-open lips; observing as he forgot
to breathe.
Bathed in iridescent twilight, the skin on her
body seemed to glisten. Every inch of her was
luminous from the dust of Beverly's fairies. She
looked for all the universe like one of them. Had he
never met her before, Riker would have sworn that she
was one of them; a creature born of fantasy and
light.
Diaphanous fabric trembled on her body, kissed
by the breeze in the air. It was a dress of
gossamer translucence and it caressed her slight
figure; hinting and teasing the observer with what it
couldn't conceal. The garment reflected; cast the
color of the evening's light and wrapped it
reverently around Deanna's body.
Her hair was pulled through the gauzy band he'd
made for her as an engagement present -- an adornment
that seemed to enhance the perfection of her
features. They'd woven it through and let the rest
fall back; a tumbling waterfall of raven curls that
kissed the curve of her shoulder.
Standing before her, unable to exhale, Riker
felt as though he could die in the next instant and
leave his life with the knowledge that he had lived
the greatest of his fantasies. A fantasy he'd never
even realized he had.
He looked at her, and she at him. It was
forbidden for them to speak, even in mind, and so
they simply took in one another through the eyes.
Forcing a breath into starving lungs, Riker
curled the fingers of one hand into a fist, clenching
and releasing the muscle while his body fought for
balance from within. He held her gaze and somehow he
knew. He knew that she was feeling just the same.
"Today, we are blessed." Garion Tem proclaimed
across the enclosure. "Today we witness the union of
Imzadi. True Imzadi. With a spiritual bond so
powerful that even time has bent to accommodate its
force."
The murmur of those assembled whispered
quietly. "In the manner of the ancient tradition, I
call upon you, daughter of the Fifth House, heir in
trust to the first," Tem's voice held a commanding
edge. It was solemn and forthright, and yet it
implied deference to Troi that Riker knew was a nod
toward her station and her house. "The gods call
upon you to make your pledge to the union of Imzadi.
Will you accept the call?"
"I will." Deanna spoke aloud and
telepathically at once. It was the only occasion
Riker had ever heard her do so. Now he knew the
reason why. The resonance of her acknowledgement
filled his being. It poured through his spirit as
liquid. There was no room for falsehood or hidden
truths in such communication. It was the basis upon
which all Betazoid people existed. A formal honesty;
forever held as sacred. It was the reason that no
Betazoid would ever lie. Understanding followed
quickly, he had known and yet had never fully
realized...
Deanna's eyes were shining. Whether from the
reflection of the mist, or from the emergence tears,
he couldn't be certain. She looked back at him and
he could see that her lower lip was trembling. It
was the only indication that she had shared his
epiphany. Longing to take her hands in his and lend
her a moment of stability; Riker sucked in a breath.
It was expressly against the prescription of the
ritual -- and so he stilled at the sound of her
thought; eyes intent on her, instead.
It was time, now. Time for her to speak her
vows to him. Time for her to ask the same in return.
He could never know what she was about to say, just
as she could never know what he had written -- until
the moment arrived. But each promise was to begin
with an admission. Something held sacred, unspoken
until this day.
"Then the gods will hear your pledge, daughter
of the Fifth House. Let your spirit be light."
Garion Tem placed his fingertips against Deanna's
forehead and touched her gently. He took a step
backward, a fact which Riker was only vaguely aware
of, caught as he was in the hold of his fiance's
expression.
It felt as though there was only the two of
them. As though the hundreds of guests who stood in
the hallway had all but vanished, and they were
alone; together with the roar of the sea. Deanna
smiled shyly. She was nervous, but she mastered it
well. He could feel it, because he could feel her.
With a moment's pause for thought, she drew a
breath. "When I was a girl," Deanna spoke aloud.
Her voice was of its regular cadence, but it carried
across the enclosure with stunning clarity. "I
would wander through my mother's garden, and, I would
gather all the white roses I could find. Roses from
Earth. My father loved the flower and we had --
hundreds of them -- in the garden. I would fill my
dress until I couldn't carry anymore." Her eyes
averted at the distant memory and then found Riker's
once more. He was smiling down at her, watching as
the slight tint of color crept into her cheeks at his
uncensored feeling. "The roses were beautiful, but
they had thorns. And I would prick myself from time
to time. At first I cried. My father would hurry
out into the garden and he would find me -- standing
in a pool of white flowers, clutching my finger. He
used to pull me aside and tend my injured hand, and
he would say, 'My littlest angel, why not choose any
of the other flowers? There are so many Betazoid
flowers that haven't any thorns.'" Troi's eyes
locked with Will's. "And with the wisdom and the
stubbornness of a five year old child, I would argue,
'because daddy, half of me belongs to Earth. Half of
me will always belong to Earth.'" Her eyes filled.
"I remember how he hugged me and told me I was
absolutely right. But even then, I never fully
understood. Not until much later...
"Until I met you... Will Riker." Her eyes
lifted, glassy and bright; their gazes locked. "You
are the half of me that will always belong to Earth.
You're the reason that my spirit is free. You're my
best friend and my conscience, and you will always be
... Imzadi." She tilted her head, smiling up at him.
"It's been a long journey for us, but I knew on the
day I followed your footsteps into the stars; I knew
that it was the future you were heading toward -- for
both of us. We've walked together as explorers, you
and I. Side by side for the passage of nearly a
decade. And now we'll walk as one. This is my
pledge to you. My promise that you have my heart,
and my spirit ... and my love. In mind and body,
forever."
In all his thoughts and dreams and imaginings,
Riker could never have imagined himself capable of
feeling so much in an instant. He looked down on her
and his heart was filled with the truth of her words.
"Will you accept her pledge, William Riker..."
Garion Tem interceded.
"I will." Riker swallowed; his feelings at war
with the logic of his 'role' in this portion of the
ceremony. He might have drowned in the light of her
eyes.
"Deanna, you may now honor the tradition of
your father." With a nod in her direction, Tem
folded his hands before him.
Slipping her hand beneath the shimmering fabric
of her gown, Deanna pulled forth a tiny circlet. It
was the ring that her father had worn and which her
mother had given to her for this day. She lifted it
slowly, extending her fingers until they brushed over
Will's. Again he exhaled, swallowing in order to
combat the powerful physical charge of her touch. It
was the bond. He knew that, and yet knowing never
seemed to prepare him for the reality of it. He
opened his eyes and saw a similar look in hers.
Deanna slid the ring onto his finger. Her hand
was trembling, but he was able to touch her this
time, and so he placed his palm across her fingers.
Their eyes met and held but Garion moved forward,
turning to Will as the two lovers allowed their hands
to fall.
"In the manner of the ancient tradition, I now
call upon you, son of Earth and child of Betazed.
The gods call upon you to make your pledge to the
union of Imzadi. Will you accept the call?"
"I will." Riker inclined his head.
"Then the gods will hear your pledge. Let
your spirit be light." Tem placed his fingertips
against Riker's forehead and then pulled away.
"Deanna," Riker exhaled slowly. "I think
we've both chosen a moment from our childhood." He
saw her smile and wondered anew at the play of the
light on the luminance of her skin. "I thought a lot
about what I wanted to say to you; what I needed to
say. I finally decided that it might be best if I
started from the beginning." He offered her a
crooked smile and watched her sultry eyes soften. "I
used to think -- there could be nothing more
important; nothing more incredible than taking off
into space and finding my destiny. I was --
convinced that there was *something* out there for
me. That if I could just leave everything on Earth
behind, I could search for it. Maybe even find it
someday."
"When I joined Starfleet, I knew I was on the
right track. The day I was told I'd won a post on
board the Enterprise, I thought I had to have found
it. This had to be what I was looking for--and it
was," he spoke the words with awe, his gaze shifting
from a lowered position. "I'd found the one place in
the universe where I felt whole, complete in every
way. Confident in my career, and so-" he lifted his
head resolutely, "-content. I'd never known content
before."
"I'd come off duty every shift, and I'd have
seen something, or discovered some new 'thing' -- and
I'd be thinking to myself, god, that was so
incredible, so amazing, I can't wait-" He trailed
off, dropping his gaze for a moment before lifting it
and finding her eyes. "I can't wait to tell Deanna."
Riker smiled and shook his head, still caught in her
expression.
"I have loved you," he shrugged his shoulders
slightly, "forever. Sometimes I look at you, and I
see myself reflected in your eyes, and I start
thinking, hey, maybe this guy is worth knowing after
all..." He watched as her eyes filled with
shimmering teardrops.
Affording only the shortest of glances at
Garion Tem, Riker broke a 'rule' of the ceremony. He
lifted his hand to Deanna's face, brushing at the
moisture where it slid across her cheek.
"Imzadi." He spoke quietly, but the word was
heard throughout. "You taught me to laugh at the
things that didn't matter. You showed me how to
cherish the moments that did. You live in my
thoughts and my spirit." Lifting her hand, Will
raised her palm to his lips and brushed his mouth
across it, kissing her tenderly. He knew what it
meant, and he did it in front of them all. For the
first time in his life, he didn't care what anyone
thought. Anyone but her. And the look in her eyes
was indescribably filled with emotion.
"So I was right. That little kid who stared up
at the stars and thought about the future -- was
right. In every way that matters, I found what I was
looking for. I found it in you," he smiled simply.
"And on this day, with all the gods of all the
worlds, all our friends and all the *universe* as my
witness, I give you my soul. The soul you taught me
to see." His expression sobered. "I give you my
thoughts and my honor. And even though there's
nothing that I have which could ever compare to what
you've already given me, I give you my life.
Everything I am. And everything I will be. If
you'll have me." He looked down at her, pausing
while the enclosure grew so utterly quiet that even
the roar of the sea seemed to be holding its breath.
"I love you," Riker shook his head, "Deanna Troi. I
will always love you."
Deanna made a sound that was barely audible.
She had long ago lost her battle with tears and was
clutching his raised hand with amazing strength.
Still her gaze never left him. Not even when she
nodded through the blur of fresh moisture and he
reached within his pocket for the circlet he carried.
"Will you accept his pledge, daughter of the
Fifth House..." Garion asked.
"I will." Her trembling voice seemed to
whisper in Riker's thoughts. He slipped the ring
onto her finger; watching the delicate band as it
flashed in the waning evening light. He held her hand
in his long after the deed was done.
"Then shall you both be whole. Two as one."
Garion Tem called forth across the chamber. "Come
forth and embrace the other half of your spirit,
children of the First and the Fifth."
This was a call of a different sort. Riker
remembered from the brief and vague rehearsal.
Stepping forward as he was taught, he placed his
palms against Deanna's; felt the rush of sensation
which was their bond. It filled him with her
presence -- and the choir began to sing.
There were no words to the song, no lyrics of
any kind. It was low and haunting; chased by the
exotic melody of an instrument almost like a pan
flute and accompanied the greatest of drums. The
sound of it flooded Will's being as though it were
blood. He hadn't expected it. Hadn't realized that
it would affect him this way, but in the instant he
opened his eyes -- Riker felt that something was
different. Looking down at Deanna, he could see that
she had felt it too. Her fingers threaded with his
and they lost track of the enclosure around them; of
every living presence -- except their own.
There was power here. Garion Tem had said so,
and he had been right. With his senses heightened
and his eyes wandering over her features, Riker
slowly exhaled. She was glowing. Not just luminous;
not only a result of the substance on her skin --
Deanna's entire body was radiant. He could see the
light through her gown; he could feel the warmth of
her across their joined hands.
Her eyes widened. She was looking at him with
an expression he was certain must have been the
mirror of his own. In the midst of it all, they were
staring at one another. And suddenly he knew.
Beyond any doubt, Riker knew that he wanted was to
kiss her. More than anything he'd ever wanted in the
infinitesimal span of his lifetime, he needed to feel
her sweet, loving lips against his own. It was all
that consumed him. The force of it made him weak
with want. Weak, because he knew in the very same
instant it was not a kiss he truly craved; it was
something far greater -- a metaphor from his spirit -
- impossible to comprehend.
Riker let his eyes wander over her features; he
saw the light behind her gaze and she was shining
with it. Without reason or analysis, he lowered his
head to hers; knew the moment that her eyes had
drifted shut. He drew his mouth across her parted
lips and kissed her slowly. Their tongues caressed
and Riker was suddenly flooded with an energy so
great, it flashed with blinding brilliance all around
them. He pulled her toward him; held their bodies
flush and tipped his head around the side of hers so
that her face nestled against his neck.
It was over in an instant. A pulse of
staggering power as the sun on the horizon slipped
low beneath its boundary. The music reached a climax
and the voices called from some far-distant place.
She was everywhere with him. Everywhere. And then
the breeze caressed his cheek. The smell of salty
air invaded his senses. Riker's eyes slid open and
he was standing right across from her. Their palms
were pressed together. Just as they had been when it
all began.
Deanna's expression was open to him; eyes large
and filled with wonder. They heard the murmur of
those gathered with them, confirming that *something*
had occurred. Something reverent; personal and
sacred for every presence in the enclosure.
Something Riker would remember for the rest of his
life.
A hush fell over them all, and Garion Tem moved
forward one final time. "Let the gods be witness on
this day, to the joining of these spirits in the
union of Imzadi. What has been made whole, let no
force tear asunder. Deanna Troi and William Riker --
the First House and the Fifth -- in the traditions
of Earth and of Betazed, I now pronounce that you are
married!" The solemn tone of Garion's voice lifted
abruptly. With his final phrase, Tem lifted their
joined hands in his, smiling warmly. "As a token to
Earth custom," he grinned at Riker, "you may kiss
your bride."
Riker grinned back. Turning toward Deanna he
saw the brilliance of her smile. Without waiting for
another invitation, Will drew her forward slowly.
Her eyes were bright and her lips were sparkling with
'fairy dust'. She seemed about to speak, but he took
her face between his palms and covered her mouth with
his, effectively silencing her.
A cheer rose up from the human compliment of
their guests; a cheer that was joined in by many of
their Betazoid friends and which soon filled the
space to capacity with audible joy. Even Deanna was
smiling against his lips, but he couldn't stop
kissing her. And for the first time in what seemed
an eternity, Riker realized -- he didn't have to.
--o--
--------
Chapter 88
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"In all things of nature there is something of the
marvelous."
--Aristotle
--------
The party was a huge success. Deanna had been
to more than her fair share of wedding receptions and
social gatherings over the years, but there was
something to be said for attending one's own. It
was beautiful, and exciting. There was only one
problem. She had yet to see Will. On Betazed,
unlike Earth, it was not customary for the wedded
couple to share the first dance. And though that
came as a moderate surprise for Will, he had seemed
quite amicable about the whole thing. Even while
each of them were spirited away, almost as quickly as
they left the ceremony.
Deanna sighed at the memory, thinking of the
way his eyes had followed her while two of her
Betazoid friends drew her backward into the crowd.
She'd been watching him as well. Until she was
forced to turn around and stare into her *other* best
friend's sparkling mirth.
Beverly Crusher grinned, patting her hand
affectionately. It was a knowing gesture. An
infuriatingly smug one, and Deanna remembered
frowning at the sight of it. Beverly, on the other
hand, seemed to be enjoying every minute.
It hadn't taken long for the enclosure to be
transformed. The light of the setting sun had left
them at the close of the ritual, but there were
candles and artificial orbs of luminance everywhere.
It may have been dark on the sands of the Janaran
sea, but it was spectacular within the crystal
structure. Lwaxana's touch ensured that even this
portion of the evening would appear as magical as the
first. And the dust from the sky had never stopped.
That part was a tremendous coincidence. An
entirely natural phenomenon which Deanna herself had
witnessed in the past and all but forgotten. It
occurred very rarely, and always in the evening.
The particles were called versina, a mineral
indigenous to Betazed which sparkled on its own. It
was famous for affording an almost diamond-like cast
to the sands of Janara province.
She sighed softly. They were more than two
hours into the evening celebration and Will was no
where to be found. Up close, in any event. He had
been dancing with everyone else, just as she had
been. And they had been talking with friends and
with family. But never in the same place at the same
time. Beverly Crusher had long left her side and
Deanna was reasonably certain at this point that the
doctor was no longer conspiring to prolong the
moment. It was merely the confounding nature of
circumstance that now kept them from having even a
moment together. She couldn't even see him from
where she stood.
Troi wrinkled her nose and frowned, wishing
selfishly that the crowded enclosure would dissipate.
Or that the evening might end early... either way...
She heard a throat cleared softly behind her.
"Excuse me, daughter of the Fifth House. I wonder if
I might have this dance?" She turned and regarded
her would-be dance partner. He was watching her
expectantly.
"I'm not sure," she demurred. "I really-"
"If you're going to tell me that you're
married, I'm certain your husband won't mind."
"He is the jealous type." She nodded solemnly.
"Then you have my word that I'll ask for
nothing more than a dance." He bent at the waist
deferentially. Deanna stared back at him for a
moment, her slight frown barely visible. "You look
disappointed." He smiled.
Dark eyes filled with serious purpose. "Touch
me," she whispered, closing the distance between
them; folding herself in his embrace. "Just touch
me." Her arms encircled his neck and her head
caressed his bearded cheek when he lowered his face
toward hers. His hands dropped to her waist.
"You're so beautiful," He whispered against
her hair. "I wanted to tell you, the moment I saw
you. You took my breath away. You look...like a
fantasy."
She pulled from him, smiling coyly at his
expression. "Whose fantasy?""
Riker exhaled slowly. He studied her features
and drew his hand across her cheek, tucking an errant
curl behind her ear. Deanna laughed.
"We really did it this time. Didn't we?" His
voice filled with awe.
"Yes." She looked up at him simply. "We did
it."
"I don't feel any different. Do you?"
Deanna grinned and shook her head. "Uh uh."
"I love you," he whispered, and before she was
able to respond, he covered her lips with his. It
started out gently. A slow and reverent kiss that
satisfied each of them, but it wasn't enough. More
quickly than either of them might have imagined,
there was a desperate plea for more. It came from
deep within, and it was indescribably enmeshed with
their bond.
Riker separated from her; drew apart from her
warmth and looked down on her with shining blue eyes.
She was the Counselor, the empath trained in the
discipline of the mind and yet it seemed always to be
his control which saved them from situations such as
these. Because she found herself helpless when his
emotions lay open to her and he kissed her with all
the feeling in his spirit. It was a familiar trait
of his; the passion with which he approached every
aspect of his life. When he was focused on his duty,
he was utterly focused -- but when his attention
turned to matters of a more physical nature -- her
body shivered in remembrance.
"Cold?" he teased.
"No." she swatted his arm.
"Really? Because I could -- take you -- some
place warmer." His look transformed and she uttered
a short sound, laying her forehead against his chest.
"Do you think anyone would notice if we-" Her
voice was muffled against his shirt.
"Left early?"
She lifted her head. "We've been here nearly
three hours."
"True." Riker smiled. "We could try and slip
away."
"Unnoticed."
"Together."
Deanna bit her lip thoughtfully before a
brilliant smile lit her features. "Lets go."
They were standing near the edge of the
crystalline structure when Will took her hand.
Threading their fingers, he threw her one final grin
and then pulled her gently behind one of the largest
of the glass pillars.
In barely a moment, they were standing on the
beach. The cool night air swept in with the current.
It tumbled the hair on Will's forehead and Deanna
lifted her hand, smoothing it gently backward.
He stared down at her for a moment, then turned
his gaze out onto the water; the blackness of it,
nearly as consuming as space.
Still there was starlight. It peppered the
canopy of velvet sky above them and rippled in the
reflection of the waves far out to sea.
"Come on." She spoke softly. "They'll find us
if we stay out here too long. Come with me." Eyes
alight; Deanna pulled him by their joined hands.
When they had taken several steps along the beach,
she suddenly stopped. Reaching down, she removed her
shoes and tossed them happily behind her, into the
night.
Riker tilted his head and grinned at her. He
said nothing, but he removed his own as well. "Much
better." She laughed. And they began to run. Hand
in hand, they spirited along the sandy water's edge
like fugitives in the night. Until they were far
away from the party and the crystalline structure.
Until they were face to face with something...
far more wondrous.
--o--
--------
Chapter 89
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Keep close to Nature's heart ... and break clear
away,
once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week
in the woods. Wash your spirit clean."
--John Muir
--------
"They've left." Beverly Crusher smiled at her
dance partner. He was looking decidedly smug.
"Finally." He smiled.
"Well well, Captain, you mean to say there's a
romantic in there some place?" she teased. "I was
beginning to think you only read about those sorts of
things."
"I don't usually interfere in matters of the
heart among my officers," he surprised her with his
response. "But those two were so overdue, I was
beginning to contemplate locking them both in the
holodeck."
"Are you serious?" Crusher laughed. "Did you
know I had the same thought?"
"Well, you know what they say." Picard smiled,
then suddenly paused. It was clear that he was
thinking. "I honestly don't envy Counselor Troi."
Beverly had been about to laugh and admit that
she hoped not, but something about his expression
caused her to amend her response. "What do you
mean?"
"With all due seriousness, Will Riker is a
career officer. He always has been, and I think I
can say with a fair degree of certainty that he
always will be. The choices he has made for himself
will be difficult on both of them in the years ahead.
Despite what anyone may believe. And I do concede
that time and experience will change a man." The
Captain frowned slightly.
"And what about Deanna's choices?" Crusher
interceded. "She's also a career officer."
"Indeed. But I've seen more balance in her
lifestyle over the years than I've seen in Will's."
Picard regarded Beverly solemnly. "Between you and
I, Doctor, I also believe that their marriage will
last. Any fool can see how they feel for one
another, I've known that much since the day they set
foot on board my ship. I only say that I imagine --
it will not always be easy for them."
"Is it easy for any of us?" Crusher threw
back. "Out here in space? On a starship? Even
planetside? When is it ever easy? Marriage is
compromise, Jean-Luc. It's argument and frustration.
But it's also love and understanding. It's a
partnership in life. I think they'll be all right.
Will has been ready to commit to something more than
friendship for a while now, and I know that Deanna
spent a lot of years refusing to acknowledge her own
feelings for just the reasons you outlined. They
were married today because they both know what the
risks are, but they've finally decided to embrace
that future together rather than run from it." Her
eyes locked with his. "Maybe we could all learn
something from them."
He stared at her for a moment. "Perhaps."
"Perhaps?" She smiled.
"Maintaining a romantic relationship with
another officer is always a risk, there is a reason
why Starfleet Command insists that-"
"Jean-Luc, what did you see, when the choir
sang?" Beverly cut him off. Her blue eyes flashed.
"What did I see?"
"You heard me. For that one instant, I...went
somewhere. I saw something. I want to know what you
saw."
"I don't recall." He stopped dancing and
shifted where he stood.
"I don't believe you."
"Doctor-"
"I think you saw exactly what I saw."
"What exactly did you see?"
Beverly glared at him incredulously for an
instant. Finally she sighed. "I saw this."
Watching his expression, she came forward slowly --
and when he didn't retreat -- she kissed him. There
was a moment of shivering pause between them when
time seemed to stand still, but then he was kissing
her back. The warmth of his arms surrounded her and
they separated slowly. "What did you see?" she
asked again.
He was silent for a time. His dark eyes looked
into hers. "I saw -- a compromise."
--o--
"Did you see that?" Deanna Troi pointed into
the canopy of forest near the water's edge.
"What?" Riker glanced over her shoulder. He'd
pulled her backward toward him so that she leaned
against his chest for support.
"That, in..." she sighed softly when he tipped
her head forward and placed his lips at the base of
her neck. "...there."
"Here?" He whispered against her skin, teasing
the shell of her ear. The liquid heat of his mouth
set every nerve ending in her body on fire.
"No." She smiled; her eyes already shut. She
was determined not to let him distract her. "In the
forest. In there." Her arm lifted again and she
indicated a direction, but he captured her hand in
mid-motion and brought it to his lips instead.
"Whatever this is-" Riker traced her fingers
with one of his own, collecting a thin sample of the
glittering substance that seemed to cover her body.
"It's all over you. I was wondering -- is it *all*
over you?"
Deanna felt his smile and she laughed. "Would
you like to find out?" She bit down on her lip,
waiting for the inevitable response. Turning in his
arms before he was able to utter it, Troi linked her
hands behind his head. "I'll show you." Her body
tipped forward and her lips grazed the edge of his.
He shut his eyes and she smiled against his mouth.
"But first you have to come with me."
Pulling backward, Deanna gathered his hand in
hers and tugged him toward the edge of the woods.
Riker sighed. "What did you see in there?"
"Something I haven't seen in a very long time."
"Something worth seeing again?"
Troi exhaled softly. "Very."
With a slow smile, Riker followed her beneath
the canopy of trees. They had walked for some time
in silence when she finally spoke again.
"Do you remember the Janaran Falls?"
"How could I forget?" He winked at her when
she turned and Deanna couldn't help the color which
crept into her cheeks. Will tilted his head.
"We're miles from there."
"Yes." She nodded. "But there are two sets.
You saw the larger."
His eyes grew, slightly. "Then that noise I'm
hearing..."
"Is a waterfall." Deanna shrugged her
shoulders excitedly, pulling him toward her. "I
haven't been here since I was a teenager."
"Well you certainly look the part tonight."
Riker grinned. Deanna's mouth fell open and she
shoved him backward, playfully. "I'm not kidding,
Sparks. Have you looked in the mirror at all? You
look like a forest fairy."
She shook her head and laughed.
"Or an elf." He teased. "You're short enough
to be an elf."
"Very funny." Deanna placed both hands on her
hips, advancing toward him.
"Now if you were only Vulcan, the picture would
be perfect." Dodging her first grasp, Riker shifted
out of the way and sprinted backward. But she was not
to be outsmarted. Deanna hopped lightly onto a
nearby rock and while he moved in the direction of
the rushing water, she climbed a very familiar series
of stones above his head.
"Going somewhere?" she called down to him,
awarding him a triumphant grin when he realized he
had reached the edge of a fairly significant drop,
culminating in the pool of water below. Across from
his position, a small but exquisite waterfall
cascaded over an outcropping of rock, glistening in
the moonlight. Will looked up at her and spread his
hands.
"You had an unfair advantage." He grinned.
"We forest elves tend to take advantage of our
prey that way." Deanna smirked. He looked like a
cornered cat, searching for a way to land on all
fours. Perhaps it was the darkness, or even the
angle at which she stood, but Troi had failed to
notice when Riker took yet another step backward. If
she had, she might have warned him. As it was, she
saw the instant that he lost his footing.
"Will!" She leapt forward, scrambling down the
grassy slope on the other side of the rocks and
reaching his position less than a fraction of a
second too late.
Riker's balance shifted and he fell backward,
plunging toward the water below. His body
disappeared into the darkness, and all that she heard
was the sound of him hitting the water. Without a
moment to breathe, Deanna took off down the lee side
of the slope. She hopped from rock to rock in the
darkness, praying that her childhood memory would
serve her when her vision could not. After what
seemed an interminable flight, she finally arrived at
the water's edge.
It was dark and quiet. "Will!" she called
again. "Imzadi, please... oh, gods.. Will!"
Scanning the glassy surface of the reflective pool,
Deanna cast fearful eyes on the rippling surface of
the disturbed water.
Will Riker was an excellent swimmer. Something
had to be wrong if he had yet to emerge from the
fall. He might have hit his head on the way down --
or worse.
Climbing the rest of the way to the water's
edge, Troi found the center of the disturbance in the
pool. It flickered wanly in the starlight and
judging by the still-rippling surface, it had to be
the spot where he'd entered the water.
Lifting a long scarf that covered her back,
Deanna tossed it aside and moved forward. Will Riker
was definitely an excellent swimmer, but so was she.
And if he was down there, she would find him.
A wet hand suddenly grabbed hold of her ankle
and she screamed. Deanna fell backward away from the
water's edge but she caught herself on a nearby
branch, eyes wide with alarm and surprise when Riker
plunged from the water. He took hold of her hand
before she could respond and he pulled her into a
shallow portion of the pool.
Thrusting her body upward and gasping for
breath, Deanna stared at Will for a moment. She
examined him in the darkness before she shoved him
angrily in the chest with both hands. He staggered
backward through the warm water.
"Damn it, Will!" Troi yanked both hands
through a mass of wet hair, firing off a few choice
words in Betazin for good measure. "You scared me."
The second half of her sentence was uttered so
softly, he barely heard her. It was a sharp contrast
to the elevated decibel of her earlier curse.
"I'm sorry." He spoke when she hadn't moved in
some time. "It was a stupid joke. I should have
realized-"
"It wasn't funny." She placed her hand to her
heart and covered it for a moment, glancing down at
the water rather than at him.
"You're right." His serious blue eyes
reflected the starlight and he moved toward her in
the shallow water, but stopped before touching her.
"I didn't think."
Deanna lifted her gaze and looked into his. She
was quiet for a time. "Are you okay?" she finally
whispered.
"Yeah." He nodded slowly. "The water's deeper
over there." His hand vaguely indicated the area he
had fallen but his lip curled into a crooked smile.
"I didn't plan on a swim, though."
She almost laughed, glancing down at her wet
clothing. "Neither did I."
"Deanna, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done
that." He repeated, shaking his head as though he
was reiterating the fact to himself as well as to
her.
"Is this how it's always going to be?" She
swallowed, watching his expression shift in the
darkness.
He knew what she was asking, and that it had
nothing to do with his poor sense of humor, or the
water they were standing in right now. Even so, he
couldn't give her an answer.
"I dunno." He mumbled. "Maybe."
Troi sighed softly, turning away from him and
crossing her arms over her chest. The surface of the
water hid half of the gesture, but Riker noticed it
anyway.
"Well," he cleared his throat and fought the
conflict in his feelings. "I figured it would take -
- I don't know -- at least a week before you were
sorry you married me." He dropped his gaze and shook
his head.
Deanna turned around. "You really believe
that." She regarded him gravely. "You really think
that there's a chance I'm going to wake up one
morning and realize I've made a mistake, don't you?"
Will said nothing at all. He glanced up at her
and finally shrugged but she caught and held his
expression with her eyes.
"I didn't make a mistake." She moved toward
him and stopped when they were inches apart. She
studied him frankly. "When you take off some times,
put yourself in command of a desperate mission, or on
a team that might not be coming back -- it scares
me."
Her admission hung in the air for several
eternal moments.
"It's who I am, Deanna." Riker stared back at
her. "It's what I do, and it's my duty on board the
Enterprise. My responsibility as First Officer."
"And what about your duty to me?" She tilted
her head. "What about your responsibility to *us*?"
Her hand shifted in the water and Riker knew
were it was going. He let his own arm fall and lay
his palm against her stomach. "Deanna, you want me
to leave Starfleet? I'll resign my commission
tonight. You want to move, change careers, go
anywhere, do anything -- I will be there with you."
His gaze sharpened. "But don't ask me to be less
than I can be, wherever I am. I can't do that." He
shook his head. "I won't do that."
"I would never ask that of you." She took his
hand from the water and held it to her lips. Her eyes
closed and then opened again. "Only to delegate --
once in a while -- when you can." She qualified. "To
be everything you can be, but to remember what it is
you're doing it all for." She watched him
resolutely.
"I could never forget that." He drew his hand
from her lips and placed it against her cheek.
"Neither of us can know what the future will
hold, but you gave me half your life today, Will
Riker. And even if it's selfish of me to call on
your promise this way, I won't let you die-" she
caught the look in his eye and felt the sting of
tears behind her eyes. "-unless we *both* agree that
there's no other way."
"That's fair." He held her gaze. "Yeah. I
think that's more than fair. And Counselor?" Riker
sighed when she regarded him expectantly. "I won't
even bring up what happened on Ikerra, when I ask you
for the same promise."
Deanna looked away. He'd made his point and
driven it home. "Ouch," she whispered back.
--------
Chapter 90
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The clearest way into the universe is through a
forest wilderness."
--John Muir, naturalist
--------
Deanna was quiet.
Reaching toward her, Riker turned her head with
his hand; lost himself in the darkness of her
expression. "Ouch." He echoed her sentiment. His
own eyes turned to steel. "I lost you. You were
gone. Your presence was gone. The link we shared --
was gone. My whole universe shattered. You can't
know what that's like. Not even through me. With
all due respect -- not even empathically." Riker
paused and drew a breath. "Do you think -- as
unreasonable as I was about your going down there,
even to save four hundred lives -- do you feel in
your heart, that you could let me do the same? Even
if I 'discussed' it with you first?"
She was staring at him silently and her eyes
were shimmering with the evidence of a losing battle
for emotional control. He shook his head bitterly.
"I knew what you were going to do, and I said no!
You're damn right I said no. I would say no, again
and again and -- again -- Deanna. Because-"
"Because, love makes us do selfish things.
Sometimes." She interrupted him. "It makes us ask
for selfish things. Sometimes. I'm sorry." Troi
drew her hands up along her arms, pressing the soaked
fabric against her skin.
"Yes it does." Will reached for her with a wet
hand and traced a moist pathway along her cheek. She
was standing close enough to him that he could see
the play of the water's reflection in her eyes.
"But maybe it also makes us care a little less about
our pride." She regarded him skeptically and he
offered her a serious look. "I can delegate." His
lip curled up at the edge. "Sometimes. "
Deanna exhaled quickly; a half-laugh which
barely made it through her lips. She nodded; eyes
bright, and the look she threw back at him broke his
heart.
"God, Sparks don't cry." He pulled her a short
distance into his arms and lifted both hands to her
face, brushing moist tendrils of her hair away from
it. "I'll do anything for you. Please don't cry."
His fingers moved slowly through her hair, working
the half-fallen band from its sticky grasp; until
he'd freed her from it entirely. He held the gauzy
fabric in his hand and it felt even more fragile than
she did. "I'm sorry." He looked away. "Tonight
wasn't supposed to be like this."
"Shh." Deanna placed her hand to his lips,
collecting a droplet of water. She leaned forward
and replaced her fingers with her mouth, kissing him
gently.
Riker explored her features. He let his hands
tangle in her damp hair and drew his lips against the
warm softness of her face. She was glowing; the
substance on her skin seemed continuously luminous
from the light of the reflective pool. He must have
been regarding her strangely, because she tipped her
head in obvious confusion.
"When I look at you, I feel like I'm dreaming."
Riker admitted with a wry smile. "What do you think
that means, Counselor?"
Deanna's shoulders rose and fell slightly.
"Maybe you are dreaming." She smiled up at him.
"Maybe we both are."
His serious eyes flashed a compelling shade of
blue. "We're really married."
"Yes."
"That's incredible." He grinned suddenly. "Do
you know how incredible that is?"
"Yes." She was smiling back at him; helplessly
responding to his uncensored passion.
"We haven't even picked out quarters yet."
Deanna laughed and shrugged lightly, saying
nothing, letting him live whatever it was that was
making him feel so wonderful to her.
"You're my wife." He looked down with all the
wonder of a child.
"You're my husband," she replied simply,
shivering from the wealth of his emotion.
"That's incredible." He repeated, pulling her
toward him through the water until the sandy bottom
of the pool dropped out beneath their feet. Her
balance suddenly gone, Deanna placed both hands on
his shoulders for support. "What do you think?"
Riker grinned roguishly.
The light in her eyes seemed to dance. "I
think there's a holosuite reserved for us."
"Yeah?" He floated them deeper.
"I think-" her grin matched his own. "you
looked very handsome at our wedding."
Riker laid his forehead against hers; still
smiling. "Beverly almost had me for dinner." He
waggled his eyebrows and she laughed.
"I can believe that."
"You don't mind?" He asked innocently; eyes
locked with hers; breath mingling.
"About Beverly? She and I have been friends
for ages. How could I mind?" Her voice dropped an
octave. "As long as she saved something for me --
for dessert."
Riker's laughter rumbled in his chest, it
tickled her where their bodies were pressed
intimately together in the water.
"That's what I love about you. You're willing
to share." The heat of his gaze seemed to burn on
her skin.
"Yes, well, I wouldn't test that theory if I
were you, Commander." Deanna gasped when his lips
plundered the edge of her collarbone, shifting aside
the filmy fabric of her gown. He lifted his head and
his lips hovered over hers; his tongue slipped out to
taste her in the instant before his mouth sealed
aggressively on the part of her that kissed him back.
Cradled in warm water, Troi slipped backward;
eyes shut, whispering words of encouragement. That
was the reason that it came as a surprise, even to
her, when she finally called his name on a question.
"Will?" He pulled a short distance away from her
and she simply regarded him for a moment. "What are
you thinking?" she finally asked.
"Would it turn you on if I told you?"
Deanna smiled coyly, but said nothing. He
allowed himself a quiet sigh.
"Actually? The thought I was having just a
second ago really wasn't that romantic. It sort of
popped into my head. I wasn't sure what to make of it
for about half a second. But you knew that, didn't
you? That's why you're asking..."
She offered no response.
"I was thinking ... that you should keep your
name. Even though we really didn't talk about it,
and I know your mother took your father's name when
they were married. I just think you should keep
yours."
She seemed about to respond, but then she
tilted her head. "Why?"
"Well," he smiled, "for one thing, the
universe probably can't handle more than one
Commander Riker at a time. I think it's a cosmic
law."
Deanna laughed. "Oh, really? Well, I'm afraid
to break it to you Commander Riker -- but the
'universe' may have to deal with two Commander Rikers
some day anyway."
"You mean Tom?" He asked, suddenly serious.
Her dark eyes widened. "No, actually. I was
going to say that if you keep turning down the
Captain's chair, our *child* may get there before you
do."
"We could give the first child your name. She
-- or he -- is going to have the choice of the
inheritance of the First House anyway. It would be
the Betazoid way."
"Will, what's wrong?" Her expression changed
and she was searching his eyes. "As much as I would
love to believe that you're saying this simply
because you've decided to embrace my home, I know you
better than that. Why don't you want our children to
have your name?"
"Can we talk about this later?" He lowered his
head and drew his lips hopefully across the edge of
her ear.
Feeling her helpless body respond, Deanna
demurred Will's expert coaxing. He knew exactly
where to touch her. He always had. Still, she
managed to break the spell, and their subsequent
kiss, with a fair degree of effort. She stared at
him stubbornly, until he exhaled.
"I don't know." He ran his hand back through
his wet hair.
"You don't know? Or you don't want me to
know?" she asked.
"My grandfather-" Riker trailed off. "Kyle's
father. He ... did some things in his life. Things
that weren't always on the up and up. He got himself
pretty famous for those things. I just, I guess I
don't want that to follow my kids around while
they're growing up."
"The way it followed you around." Deanna
observed quietly.
"Yeah maybe. Is that so wrong?" His blue eyes
flashed. "I know who I am, Deanna, and I think I've
made my own name count for something in my life, but
it's just a name, you know? And why should they have
to go through that the way I did."
Troi tipped her head, she placed her palm
gently along his cheek. "I don't know a single
person, in or out of Starfleet that doesn't think of
*you*, Will Riker, when they hear your last name.
And not one of those people has anything but respect
and admiration for it. I didn't even know who your
grandfather was," she belayed his workaround with a
shake of her head, "and maybe I don't want to know.
But I know who you are. And so do a lot of other
people who matter." She regarded him thoughtfully.
"I'll tell you what. For reasons having absolutely
nothing to do with what you've just told me, I do
think it's a good idea that I keep my own name --
professionally. It is who I am." She nodded
slightly. "But we'll discuss our children when the
time comes. Because *I* think you have a hero's
name." Her eyes shone. "No matter what you say.
And I'm not about to let you dismiss it so easily."
He returned her resolute stare for several
silent moments, until the war he was fighting could
withstand it no longer. He looked away, then back
again. "What," Riker asked quietly, "did I do..." he
kissed her reverently "...to deserve you?"
"You married me." She smiled impishly against
his lips.
Without another word, Riker lifted her in
strong arms. He carried them both from the water and
set her down on the flat embankment. A smaller fall
of water tumbled into the pool behind them, and he
backed her against the smooth surface of the rock
face right next to it.
"And about Tom..." Riker smirked. "Even if he
were still in Starfleet, even if he were up for the
next ship's command, I'd say let him have it."
Deanna raised an eyebrow but his gaze darkened.. "I
have you."
Troi lifted her eyes skyward. "Next you'll be
beating your chest and dragging me up a tree."
"Would *that* turn you on?" Riker grinned
lasciviously.
She laughed and pressed her lips to his,
whispering against his beard. "Maybe."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 91
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wildflower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour."
--William Blake
--------------------
A warm wind whispered softly through the trees,
untouched by the cooler air of the seashore. It was
surprising how much of the waterfall reflected the
moon and the starlight overhead. Surprising, and
familiar. The larger of the two Janaran Falls had
been equally bright on the night he now recalled; on
the night they'd made passionate love before he left
Betazed for a very long time.
Hooking his arm around Deanna's waist, Riker
walked them backward onto the mossy embankment and
sank to his knees, pulling her with him so that they
knelt face to face. He was staring at her, and she
at him, and neither of them spoke. She remembered
that night as well. He could see it in her eyes.
Lifting her left hand, Will held it between
them, his gaze diverted to the ring on her finger --
the Earthly reminder of their ceremony. Deanna
watched him; allowing him to gently examine her hand
before he raised his eyes and their gazes locked.
A moment later, Troi's eyes slid shut and a
quiet sound escaped her lips. He was touching her,
without touching her. Filling her body with a river
of warm sensation in a manner he'd recently become
quite adept at. Her breath quickened and her head
tilted slightly as she gave herself completely to the
feeling.
"God have mercy -- you make me weak." His
whisper carried toward her on the breeze. She opened
her eyes and looked into his. Wetting her lips,
Deanna slowly smiled. Without a word, she played his
own game -- nurturing the intensely erotic feeling he
experienced. She sent it back to him in greater
measure than he could ever have imagined possible.
His eyes darkened; nearly to the shade of her
own and he shut them as he struggled to reclaim
control. "We're not going to any holosuite." Riker
growled.
Deanna shook her head wordlessly.
"You're okay with that?" he asked even so.
Her slow nod came equally silent. And then her
head fell backward, long tumbling curls spilled down
over her shoulders and her mouth slipped open from
the force of Will's response. "Yes," she gasped.
He heard her whisper on the wind and in his thoughts.
It filled his spirit with her loving, gentle
presence.
Staring down at Deanna's flushed expression;
the racing of her heartbeat behind the gossamer
fabric of her dress, he watched her surrender to the
bond between them. She gave herself to it; to him --
so absolutely -- that a column of emotion rose up
inside of his heart. It was one of the things he
loved so desperately in her; the way she experienced
their intimacy -- with an innocence that belied the
experience he knew she had. In all the years and all
the conquests of his less than admirable lifestyle,
he'd never been with anyone so utterly open with him.
It was an absolute trust she offered, and it had
taken him years to feel worthy of it.
The link they shared had awoken between them.
Whether the intimacy of the moment or the magic of
the evening's events, Riker felt it pulse; felt the
energy of its power when he reached for her and took
her in his arms.
Her touch was electric. Troi's damp lips sealed
over his and there was a moment of intense clarity
when he knew -- without question -- that there was
only one spirit between them. Immersed in sudden
understanding, he noticed only dimly when their
physical bodies tumbled to the sandy earth, together.
Supporting her gently, Riker turned them both
over. He lowered her slowly backward and their eyes
remained fixed on each other. Deanna let him guide
her descent, until the soft grassy surface of the
embankment pressed against her shoulders. She tipped
her chin up when he kissed her once, and then again,
and then so many times that she lost count of the
instances; drowning in the heat of his physical and
mental caress.
His body ached for her in every place at once.
He drew his hands along her neck toward her delicate
shoulder and he swallowed at the inarticulate sound
of her breath when her head pressed backward into the
earth.
When she opened her eyes again, she found him
staring down at her; the silhouette of his body
barely visible above her. She wanted him. Gods she
wanted him so much, it made her breathless just to
feel his hands caress her burning skin. Wherever he
touched her, there was fire. Wherever he kissed her,
trails of liquid heat.
The gauzy fabric of her gown slipped low
beneath her shoulder and she felt him pull it
forward; felt the moment of his realization. When he
knew that it wasn't a dress at all, rather a gown
created entirely from delicate pieces. Each one
separate; each one carefully draped on its own. His
wide eyes devoured her where she lay and Deanna
bathed in the charge of his arousal, gasping hungrily
for more.
The first of several pieces came easily loose.
She helped him shrug them aside and moaned softly
when his hand traced the edge of her breast. But
then he lowered his head to her chest and teased her
with the heat of his mouth; his tongue; and the fur
on his face that drove her crazy for want of more ...
so much more. She lifted her hands and tangled them
in his hair, pulling him toward her while her back
arched in helpless abandon.
It was quickly clear to Will that the entirety
of her body had been covered in the shimmering,
luminous substance from her face and neck and
shoulders. It warmed her skin like a jewel and his
need to discover just how far the `fairy dust' was
spread caused a shivering sound to escape his lips.
With most of their clothing unevenly divested,
Riker laid his hands against her body and traced a
pathway from the edge of her neck along the full
length of her torso. She arched against him,
whispering his name until his hands came to rest on
her tummy. His palm circled her abdomen and he
looked down on her with reverence in his gaze.
"You're perfect." His whisper answered the
look in her eyes. "You make me feel perfect."
"We are perfect." Deanna pulled his hand into
hers. "Together."
"I love you, Sparks."
For an instant, her voice caught in her throat.
She'd never felt such innocence in anything he'd ever
said to her before. Her eyes filled with tears. "I
love you, too."
And something between them flashed. It washed
their souls in light, drowning the physical for a
moment of spiritual perfection.
Their bond was complete.
Riker stared back at her. His hands stilled but
she called his name when he used their link with
intimate familiarity.
Deanna's body pressed beneath him in the earth.
He took her wrists on either side of her and held
them fast, kissing her belly before she was even
aware she'd been captured.
"Will!" His warm tongue dipped inside her
navel and she fought against his hold on her, but
there was no escape. No way to combat the pleasure
of his touch. Her cry became a helpless sob.
Blinding magical heat filled her being as his
attention moved lower still. Her legs fell open. The
heat of his mouth teased the core of her most
intimate center and her back arched high above the
ground.
Still he kept his hold on her; his focus on the
pull of her ecstasy with every rhythmic caress. Riker
knew her as no other man ever had or ever would.
Knew the sounds she made; knew every inch of her
lithe, incredible body and where she loved to be
touched.
When he could feel that she was ready; that any
instant she would lose herself in him, he pulled
away. Fighting the agony of his own incredible need,
he forced himself not to listen to her protest. Not
to give in when she begged him to continue. He knew
what she needed. He also knew that for the first
time ever in the years of their on-again-off-again
relationship, he could finally give her ...
everything.
Clearing his thoughts while her warm body
writhed against him on the forest floor, took every
ounce of willpower Riker had ever owned. But he did
it. Somehow. He managed the impossible. With his
mind on her, and her alone, he released his
inhibitions and embraced their link.
Deanna's eyes flew open, she felt the spill of
merged sensation flow like liquid vitality between
them and the pulse of need that had been wholly
physical, transformed into something far more
compelling. Her body trembled with the force of it,
her mind filled with feelings that were a gift to her
-- from him.
The moment was so powerful, it soared beyond
the boundaries of any pleasure and any love she'd
ever known. She sobbed openly, cried for the sheer
joy of it -- of understanding he was with her in a
way she'd never known. And when she reached for him;
touched him with her hands, her lips, and her body...
it was like he shared her soul. He knew. He
finally understood what it had always been for her;
to crave his mind in greater measure than she'd ever
craved his body.
"Imzadi! Will..." She called out, wrapping
her legs around his body; taking him deeply inside
her. The empathic force of their bond echoed the
rhythmic force of their physical union and Deanna's
head pressed backward, her eyes shut and her mouth
fell open in the grasp of kind of pleasure so
powerful, she was screaming with every thrust of his
fullness within her.
"Deanna! Oh, God, I ... can't..." Riker's own
voice joined with hers and their universe exploded
together. In the self-same instant, without a breath
or a heartbeat's separation, they called out to each
other; mind and body. The sound of their voices
matched a power far greater. It rose up between
them. Filled their spirits with a tidal wave of
ecstasy. And then they collapsed; physically
exhausted, covered in rivers of moisture and gasping
for breath while the shuddering force of their climax
continued to shiver through their union.
Deanna clung to him in the night. Her
fingertips kneaded into the skin on his back while
her breath raced against his chest. They'd rolled
onto their sides. He could feel her heartbeat where
the heat of her body pressed intimately against him
in front. Riker drew his fingers rhythmically
through damp tendrils of her hair, holding her
impossibly close. Needing her embrace as much as she
seemed to need his.
Though the air was warm, the breeze was cool,
and Troi shivered when a breath of it caressed the
skin on her back. She whispered something against
him, uncertain whether or not he had heard her -- and
relatively uncaring -- until she felt the rumble of
his quiet laughter against her chest. The phrase
she'd chosen hadn't been in Terran Standard.
"After tonight, Sparks," he answered fondly,
"I'll worship any gods you want."
She giggled and pressed her nose against his
skin. Her breathing tickled the hair on his torso
and he heard her exhale. "You knew," she sighed,
pulling away from him suddenly. The breeze
immediately cooled the spot she had occupied next to
his body, and he could see that she'd been crying.
"I can be a little slow sometimes, but ... I
usually figure things out." Riker looked down at her
and his heart might have been on his sleeve -- if
he'd had a sleeve. Deanna pressed her lips together
and closed the gap between them. She held him
fiercely.
"What are you thinking?" He asked quietly.
"That I've just had the best sex of my entire
life!" She made an audible sound and rolled onto her
back, stretching languorously in the soft mossy
earth.
Riker watched her play. "I think that's
unanimous," he smirked, but he lifted an errant curl
from her forehead. "What else?"
"That I love you," Troi pulled him down on top
of her and kissed his parted lips, "so much.
Imzadi."
"Funny." He smiled when she looked up at him
curiously. "Well, it's just ... I was thinking the
exact same thing."
The brilliance of her grin was the last thing
he saw before her feelings tumbled gently in his
thoughts; a warm and indescribable sensation as their
bodies came together once again.
--------------------
Chapter 92
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin."
--William Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida
--------------------
Deanna Troi had no idea that a list of
appointments could possibly be as long as the one she
found herself staring at. The honeymoon was
definitely over. It had been over for nearly five
days, in fact. But the struggle to catch up with a
workload that refused to take a vacation -- even when
there was no one available to do it -- catapulted her
schedule into overtime on the very day of her return
to the Enterprise.
She had just seen her last patient out the
door. There would be another patient in fewer than
fifteen minutes, and all she wanted to do was place
her head in her hands and wave something white.
"Counselor?" A quiet voice interrupted her
sulk and Deanna looked up. "Your three o'clock
hasn't arrived yet. Should I send the notes for the
morning's group? Or would you rather do that later?"
Troi sighed. "Who do I call to surrender?"
She smiled at the young lieutenant who'd assumed the
role of her assistant little more than a year ago.
Capable and efficient, Katie Hargis was an able
administrator, and her skills were unparalleled at
times such as these.
Hargis afforded Deanna an appraising once-over.
"Sorry, we've got a take-no-prisoners kind of crowd,"
she grinned. "But I can handle the consults and
evaluations if you'd like."
"You're an angel." Deanna nodded. "Thank
you."
"Don't mention it." Katie turned to leave.
Pausing in the doorway, she glanced over her
shoulder. "Oh, and Counselor?"
Troi looked up from her console, already
engrossed in the next file.
"I know it's been a crazy few days since you
got back. I just wanted to say ... congratulations."
Hargis threw her a crooked smile.
"Thanks." Deanna beamed.
"You know I don't think there's a single woman
on the ship who hasn't had a crush on Commander Riker
at one point or another." Katie rolled her eyes and
laughed.
Troi was smiling. But as the young lieutenant
left her office, Deanna paused. Lifting her hand
slowly, she examined the ring on her finger. Her
thoughts turned to Will, as they had several times a
day, every day, for the past few. He was on the
bridge. It was his shift for command. She could
sense that his mood was calm and determined, focused
but not engrossed. Fairly routine for him.
The echo of Katie's voice sang out in her head,
causing her expression to transform. Her eyes took
on a serious shade of neutral and she sighed.
--o--
William Riker stood before his Captain. The
ready-room was quiet while the older man examined a
data PADD and Riker waited patiently.
"Commander," Picard looked up. "I'm afraid I
have very little alternative in this. Would you be
agreeable to the mission?"
Three months earlier, Riker would have snapped
out the words 'yes, sir,' nodded perfunctorily and
forged ahead toward duty. Today he paused for
thought. "Can I get back to you, sir?"
Picard smiled widely. "You certainly may."
He shifted forward in his chair. "You know, Number
One, all formality aside -- it's good to see you
considering a dangerous assignment, for once."
Will smiled. "Frankly sir? It's more a matter
of weighing in one dangerous outcome against
another."
"Indeed." Picard offered a knowing look. "I'd
rather not invoke the Counselor's wrath, either."
"No, sir." Riker grinned.
For a time, Picard regarded him solemnly. "I
want you to realize that you have the right to refuse
this assignment, Will. Starfleet would not hold it
against you, and neither would I."
"I understand that, sir."
"Good." The Captain inclined his head. "Carry
on then."
--o--
Riker entered the bridge and walked slowly
toward the Captain's chair. The hum and beep of
ship's activity lulled his senses for a moment and
the vast view-port displayed a stunning nebula in the
distance. Alpha crew worked busily at their
stations; a typical environment for the final phase
of a shift. As he sank down into the center seat,
Riker let out a breath.
He thought of Deanna. They'd been back on the
Enterprise for nearly a week and they still hadn't
found the time to choose quarters. Not that they'd
even had an opportunity to think about such
trivialities in the backlog of catch-up that each of
them had been playing.
Their time on Betazed and later on Risa had
been incredible, though most of it had been spent
engaged in ... mutually gratifying calisthenics.
Riker allowed himself a private smile. They'd
learned things about one other that surprised them
both; most profoundly since their friendship as
officers had existed for so many years. It seemed
impossible that there was anything about the other
they hadn't already found out.
It was a magical two weeks, but it was over in
an instant. And 'back to duty' meant back to
reality. A life on board the flagship of the fleet.
A good life filled with friends and satisfying career
choices, but an oath to the Federation nonetheless.
Whatever 'normal' had meant for them before the
whirlwind of their rekindled courtship, it had
certainly taken on new definition since. In the span
of such a short period, he'd lost her and found her.
Introduced himself for a second time and fallen in
love all over again. Now they were married. More
than that; they were linked in a way even he didn't
fully comprehend. But maybe he'd finally come to
realize...he didn't have to.
His mind relaxed and he allowed his spirit to
search for hers. It was interesting how the bond
actually worked. Because finding her over their link
was not something he had had to concentrate on. It
was almost an instinct; something he had to keep from
happening when it wasn't convenient rather than the
other way around.
At the moment, she was in her office; probably
drowning in paperwork. Deanna hated paperwork.
Almost as much as he did. Her emotions were focused
and thoughtful; task oriented if he'd had to take a
guess. He felt a flash of amusement from her before
her mood shifted.
Lifting his gaze and staring out at the
beautiful stellar phenomenon in the view port, Riker
allowed himself a curious frown.
--o--
Deanna placed her hand against the smooth
surface of her desk and stared at the doorway to her
office. She felt the touch of Will's presence in her
thoughts and she shut her eyes briefly. If it
weren't for these -- all too rare -- instances, they
would probably have communicated fewer than a hundred
words in the past four days. As it was, they were
barely in contact, and only when one or the other of
them found a moment in the chaos. Knowing it was
coming, she listened for his voice.
:::Hey, beautiful. Have you seen my wife?:::
Deanna opened her eyes with a soft smile and
tapped her fingers on the console. :::I think she
surrendered to the enemy already. The terms were
unclear.:::
:::That's too bad. I was hoping to have dinner
with her, later tonight.::: A trickle of sensation
caressed her from within. Though it would hardly
have otherwise been particularly distracting, it made
her shiver with longing for the touch of a lover she
hadn't felt in nearly a week.
:::Oh, Will, I'm sorry.::: He could feel her
sigh, and her disappointment. :::I'm going to be
late again. I just need a day or two more like this
and then I'll be back on schedule, but I'm completely
swamped right now.:::
:::I understand,::: Riker smiled when he felt
her return his touch with uncensored affection.
:::I've got about a year's worth of crew assignments
to go over, anyway.::: He paused. :::We should pick
out quarters sometime.:::
Deanna drew her finger along the desk as though
it were him. :::I'd like that.::: His emotion
shifted and she felt a familiar sense of focus flood
their link.
:::Alpha shift is transferring.::: He
explained. :::There's an incredible nebula; stellar
cartography's having a field day with it. I'd love
to show you on the observation deck, but if I don't
see you tonight, try and make it down on your own for
a few minutes? I promise it'll be worth it.:::
:::I will.::: She sent him goodbye and felt
the instant that his mind turned wholly to the task
of trading alpha shift for beta. "I miss you."
She spoke quietly into her office, knowing she was
the only one who would hear it.
He was keeping something from her. Something
he needed to say which, doubtless, he wanted to say
in person. It weighed on his conscience so that she
could feel his ambivalence. Troi stared blankly at
her console for a time, wondering whether or not she
should cancel an appointment and find him.
The door to her office suddenly beeped and her
gaze lifted. Her three o'clock had finally arrived.
With a quiet exhale, Deanna relegated her personal
thoughts to the back of her mind and called for the
entry. Whatever it was Will wanted to say, it would
have to wait.
=////=
--------------------
Chapter 93
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Immature love says, 'I love you because I need you.'
Mature love says, 'I need you because I love you.'"
--Erich Fromm
--------------------
"Goodnight, Tammy." Troi smiled at her last
appointment for the day.
"Thank you, Counselor. I think I do know what
I need to say. To myself first. Then maybe to him."
"Remember who you are." Deanna nodded. "It's
as important as anyone else's claim on your life or
your time."
The lieutenant, and mother of two, smiled back.
It had been a long road for Tammy. She and the
father of her children were separated, never married,
and though she seemed quite happy to most of her
crewmates, the truth of the matter was that Tammy
Chan had begun to lose interest in life. It had been
a gradual process, and it wasn't for lack of love
where her children were concerned; two little boys
who she adored as much as any mother could.
The problem was that Tammy had been hurt more
than once. She'd trusted and been burned for it.
And as the days and months ticked by, though her boys
kept her busy with parental responsibilities, and her
duties on the Enterprise kept her occupied with
vocational interest, things in her personal life had
began to melt into a far-off darkened place.
Six months ago, she had appeared in Deanna's
office, wordless and uncertain. And Troi had felt an
immediate sense of pride for her. Not for the life
she'd lead, but for the courage it had taken to seek
assistance where so many others never would. Every
session there was progress. Every day a tiny victory
for Tammy which she held in high esteem. And over
the months, she had begun to recapture at least a
semblance of her normal life's goals and ambition.
Today was yet another step in the right direction.
With a warm farewell, lieutenant Chan slipped
quietly from the Counselor's office and Deanna stared
thoughtfully after her. It was nearly 2100 hours
and she had yet to take a break. Doubling her
patient load in order to keep many of her more
pressing cases current had seemed a workable solution
in the morning, but with the prospect of two days
worth of followup notes to input before retiring for
the evening, Deanna suddenly felt as though she
herself were falling into a black hole.
Sighing softly, Troi rose from her chair and
made her way to the door, poking her head outside in
order to ensure that Katie had indeed gone back to
quarters as ordered. Satisfied that there was no one
in the small office adjacent to reception, Deanna
raised her hands above her head and stretched her
limbs. Perhaps a short break would help clear her
head. Maybe she would take Will up on his suggestion
to stop by the observation deck after all.
Calling out the lights, Deanna cast one final
glance at the stack of PADDs on her desk and wrinkled
her nose thoughtfully. Maybe a very short break.
She tapped the doorplate and let it slide shut behind
her.
=\\=
The lounge was dark. Her first steps inside the
enclosure threw shadows against the walls and floor
but she opted not to call for lights. The color from
Will's stellar phenomenon cast playful patterns
throughout the room. It was beautiful. He'd been
right about that too. Well worth the effort of the
five minute trek from her office through the
corridors of the Enterprise.
Deanna stood at the window; a portal which
spanned an entire wall. She stared out at the
paradox of space.
"Welcome back." A low voice breathed against
her hair and a pair of brawny arms surrounded her
from behind. They pulled her backward and she let
herself fall, trusting completely in their support.
A shiver of warmth rippled across her body.
"You surprised me." She whispered, shutting
her eyes when his lips grazed the top of her head.
"You're exhausted." He answered simply.
"I guess I can't argue with that." Deanna
exhaled slowly.
"You're no good to anyone like this, you know.
Let me get you to bed."
Troi smiled wanly. "I can't. I have six
sessions of follow-up left before the day begins all
over again."
"And I have forty-four crew assignments sitting
on my desk waiting for approval." His arms lifted
just above her chest and tightened around her. "It
can wait." He felt her body's ambivalent protest.
"That's an order."
"Really?" Deanna turned in his arms. Her
hands inched up front of his uniform, then clasped
behind his neck. "Is this standard procedure for
issuing orders, Commander?"
"Oh, absolutely. Geordi and I? We do this all
the time."
Troi laughed and buried her face against his
neck; drowning in the warmth his closeness offered --
both physically and emotionally.
"I miss you, Sparks. The last few nights,
coming home to an empty room so exhausted I can
barely walk, you'd think I could fall asleep. But it
just doesn't feel right that you're not there."
Riker glanced out the view port behind her. "I know
we're both behind, but I think we need to find some
time for ourselves. We've been back for five days
now and this is the longest I've been in the same
room with you at the same time."
Deanna sighed. "We should pick out quarters.
That would help with the first part, at least."
"Yeah." He nodded against her hair. "But I
don't think that's it, either. Deanna," Riker pulled
away from her and studied her seriously. "Even when
we were so busy we could barely breathe, we saw more
of each other as friends. I'm pretty confident it's
not me, this time. I mean I know I've stopped by
your office a few times in the last three days, Katie
won't even let me near you. And I get these --
flashes -- of, I dunno, something from you every once
in a while. I know it's what you're feeling and I
don't like it."
Deanna stared back at him with wide black eyes.
Her expression was unreadable, but her feelings were
clear. She was annoyed and a little frustrated.
"What is it?" he asked. "Did I do something?
Or ... say something?"
"Did you not say something? Not do something?"
she challenged in return. When he shook his head in
confusion, she sighed. "Four days ago, Will. What
happened four days ago that you thought you should
tell me, but haven't yet? It's been on your mind
every day since, and it's upsetting you. But you're
keeping it from me. So why don't you tell me what
I'm supposed to think?" Her dark eyes flashed as
Riker let out a breath, pulling one hand backward
through his hair. "Just tell me where you're going
Will. I'm a big girl, I can handle it."
"Then you already know." He frowned at her.
"That you're leaving for somewhere? Of course
I know. Where you're going is another story, but
wherever it is, you're already half there. When you
take on these missions, Will, your thoughts disappear
before you do. It's always been like that. So yes,
I know. And you might want to consider that the next
time you opt to wallow for three days before being
honest with me."
"I haven't accepted the mission yet." He found
her eyes and stared back resolutely.
"But you want to."
"I think I have to."
"It's dangerous, and you think I'll ask you to
turn it down." Deanna placed her hands on her hips
and tilted her head.
"I told the Captain, I'd discuss it with you
first."
"Then discus it with me."
"Okay." Riker glanced behind him and then
pulled a large chair away from the table, dropping
into it without ceremony. He folded his hands in his
lap and looked up at her. "There's a Federation
mining colony on the third moon of Cerrus in the
Nossic sector. In one of the older Jeffries shafts,
they've discovered a small ketrion device, set to
explode if it's tampered with. Starfleet doesn't
know who set it, or how, but the best they can think
of is that it's a throwback to the rebellion on
Cerrus... sixteen years ago. The device hasn't gone
off yet, but it could."
"Why all of a sudden now?" Troi shook her
head.
"Because the moon is abandoned, no one lives
there anymore and they've started a barion sweep of
the entire shaft system. If the sweep reaches the
explosive, it'll blow and take half that moon with
it. Cerrus would have to be evacuated, and I think
you can imagine what an blast like that would do to a
fifty-thousand kilometer piece of rock in space."
Glancing out of the window for a brief moment,
Deanna pulled her own chair out and sank into it
slowly. "So stop the sweep."
"They already have. The problem is that they
can't leave it up there like that. Anything could
set it off."
"They want you to go down there and disarm it."
She lifted her gaze to his, but it wasn't a question
she was asking.
Riker nodded slowly. "Starfleet has four ships
nearby, including the Enterprise but no one qualified
with ketrion explosives. I took a special series of
courses at the Academy, and that makes me their best
shot right now."
"And you called me an academic brat?" Deanna
scowled at him. "Do you realize what you're about to
do? I've seen schematics for those old Jeffries
shafts, it's a one person mission at best. Even you
would barely fit, and what if there's a problem and
you can't get out in time?"
"I could die." He admitted. "And the
Enterprise would have to join the other four ships
and get as many people off Cerrus as possible. If
something goes wrong, if I make a mistake and the
bomb explodes, it's over. Starfleet could order
someone down there, but they've asked for volunteers
instead. There are four already from the other ships.
But I'm the only one who's been trained to disarm
that kind of explosive."
"Then the decision has already been made."
Deanna exhaled.
"No. It hasn't. Deanna, nothing is decided."
"You said: 'if I make a mistake', that means
you believe you have to be the one to go."
Will stared at her solemnly. He wished that
there was something he could say which would
contradict her line of reasoning, but there wasn't.
He looked directly at her, instead.
"Deanna, that thing's been up there for close
to sixteen years. It hasn't gone off yet and maybe
it won't for another sixteen. But it could. It
could go off tomorrow. It could be triggered by a
seismic disturbance, or even a major storm. We have
to get it off that moon, and I'm the best chance we
have of doing that."
"What about Data?" she asked suddenly. "He
must have the same skills."
"Actually, he volunteered." Riker half
laughed. "But Starfleet doesn't look at Data as an
'acceptable' loss. If something goes wrong."
"You mean you're expendable to them but he
isn't?" She asked incredulously, feeling guilty
almost immediately for even considering that the life
of their friend, artificial though he may have been,
was worth any less than Will's in her eyes.
"Not expendable, less expensive to replace."
He shrugged while she frowned silently.
"I'm certain Data wasn't happy to hear that."
Deanna scowled. "If it were up to me, neither one of
you would go."
He lifted his hand to her face and brushed his
fingers over her skin. "You want me to tell the
Captain to choose another volunteer?"
"Yes." She threw him an angry glance and he
looked away. "But I can't ask you to do that. I
can't ask you to live with the knowledge that you
might have been able to stop it, if something goes
wrong." Her dark eyes found him silent. "You know
what the risks are, Will. You're an experienced
officer and our being married doesn't interfere with
your logic." Her lip tipped slightly at his raised
eyebrow. "Most of the time." She added. "What do
you think you should do?"
Riker glanced at the nebula for a time, then
back at her. "I think I should go, Deanna. I think
if there's a chance that thing could explode and take
an entire planet with it, I have to go."
"Then you have to go." Troi nodded, eyes
sparkling. "And I'll support that."
Riker exhaled and closed his eyes. When he
opened them again, she was regarding him with an
intense expression. He reached for her and pulled
her out of her chair, into his arms. "I will come
back, Imzadi." He tangled his hands in her hair. "I
promise, I'll come back."
Deanna made a quiet sound and brushed his neck
with her cheek. He shut his eyes again and held her
fiercely.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 94
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"It is impossible to love and to be wise."
--Francis Bacon
--------------------
Riker clipped on the right cuff of his hazard
suit and shifted uncomfortably. It felt like a chain
mail flak jacket and was only slightly easier to move
in. "You'd think," he grinned at the transporter
chief, "that in seven hundred years, we'd have come
up with something lighter weight."
"Any lighter than that, sir, and you'd be
floating away with it if a bomb exploded." The older
man shrugged. "But I don't see why they make you wear
it anyway. If that thing down there explodes, you
could be wearing the hull of this ship and it
wouldn't matter."
"What do you know about 'that thing'?" Riker
cocked his head. "I thought this was a classified
mission."
"The walls have ears, sir."
"I guess so." Will smirked. "Listen, do
yourself a favor and don't repeat anything about
those walls in front of the Captain?"
"Of course not sir." The older man stood up
straight. "The walls also know who's okay about
hearing what they've been saying."
"I won't even pretend I understood that." Riker
stepped up onto the transport pad and turned to face
the open room. He'd been about to call for transport
when the door to the room hissed open and Captain
Picard walked in. Deanna was two steps behind him.
"Sir?" Riker cocked his head. "I was under
the impression you had the bridge?"
"I do, Number One." Picard thinned his lips.
"But we've received some additional information
regarding the mission and I though it best to deliver
it in person." Will waited expectantly but the
Captain addressed the non-com officer at the console.
"Chief, you are dismissed. I will handle transport."
"Aye sir." The man turned and left his
station, exiting with a perfunctory grace that Riker
nearly grinned at.
Satisfied that they were alone, Picard turned
toward the transport pad. "Will, when you get down
there, you will notice that the latter two thirds of
a five-kilometre stretch of Jeffries shafts are gone.
They were probably dismantled at Starfleet's request
but the amendments to the mine schematics were never
made."
Riker's eyes widened. "Thank you sir. That's
good to know. Considering I was banking on those
tunnels to get me out. Is there another way past the
air intake?"
"Yes." Troi's voice chimed in and Riker threw
her a surprised glance.
"You should thank the Counselor, Number One.
None of us thought to check on the veracity of those
schematic diagrams. She did."
Riker's eyes locked with hers and there was
nothing but cold determination behind her expression.
He was probably the only person in the universe who
would have known she was feeling a hell of a lot more
than that.
"If you come in one kilometre west of your
planned entry, you'll see another set of tunnels.
They're slightly smaller than the first, but you can
make it through. Once you reach the destination
point, you'll see the ketrion device in the shaft
blocking your path. You won't be able to go any
further, but if you dismantle the explosive, you
should be able to exit just behind it. There's a bit
of a fall, but you'll come out well below the tunnels
you were in, and you'll find more room to breathe in
there." Deanna's tone changed and her eyes flashed.
"Just don't go past that drop-point. If you try and
head any farther into the shaft behind the bomb it'll
be too narrow and you'll end up stuck."
"Understood." Riker nodded. "And Deanna?" He
exchanged a meaningful look with her. "Thanks."
"Well, you always charge into these fire-traps
head first Will Riker, someone has to watch your
six."
Picard smiled. "Any other questions? The new
directions make sense to you?"
"No problem." Riker smirked. "If it's not one
metal hole, it's another. I'll find it." Deanna
frowned at him and he laughed. "I got it."
The Captain moved in behind the transport
console. "Remember that once you're in the tunnels,
we won't be able to use the transporters until you're
down in the drop-point. The mines were designed that
way to prevent theft." With an appraising glance at
his first officer, Picard sighed. "I wish you safe
journey, Number One. Good luck, and try and come
back in one piece. For us all."
Will nodded, first at Picard and then at Troi,
but his expression shifted when he saw her. He felt
the slight brush of her thoughts against his. Riker
reached for her across their link and found that it
was almost easy.
:::Gonna be a little late tonight, sweetheart.
Keep the fire burning?::: he offered her a crooked
smile.
She almost smiled back. Almost. :::I swear to
the gods, Will, if you die out there ... I'll kill
you.:::
Riker grinned. "Energize." The world around
him shimmered and vanished.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 95
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"I shall be loath to forego one day of you."
--Christopher Fry
--------------------
It was bleak and barren and cold. The moon
looked like something out of a cosmic wasteland, and
Riker stared at the majesty of the giant crags which
peppered the surface of its crust. He had arrived
at the mining complex and found it just as devoid of
vitality. Still, there was something about the cold
metal sphere that paradoxically proclaimed the
existence of life; something to have built such
precise geometry and placed it in the middle of an
otherwise barren rock.
"Riker to Enterprise." Will spread his hands
on the smooth metal of the Jeffries shaft in front of
him.
<Enterprise here, go ahead Commander> Picard's
voice came back, slightly tinnier than Riker was used
to. He checked his readouts and decided it was
probably the suit.
"I've entered the primary tunnel-structure.
One kilometer west of the initial drop-point.
Everything's quiet so far. Little chilly down here."
Placing gloved palms on the edge of each wall, he
started his climb.
<The atmosphere is thin, Number One, but your
suit should compensate in a few minutes.>
"Yes sir." Riker exhaled. "Getting warmer
already." The tunnel in front of him narrowed and he
realized what Deanna had been saying. It would be a
close climb from here on up. "I should reach the end
of the passage in about ten minutes." His boot
caught on a nearby pipe and he slipped. Catching his
balance, Will held position and recovered the breath
he'd momentarily displaced.
<Are you all right?>
"Yes, sir." He spoke into his utility helmet.
"It's a little slippery down here too. I guess a few
years of condensation will do that."
<Watch your step.>
As if it needed to be said. Riker grinned.
"Yes, sir." A loud clang sounded from somewhere far
off. It echoed in the mine structure causing the
tunnel beneath Will's body to tremble for an instant.
"Did you get that?" Riker paused and checked
his instrument readings. Nothing appeared out of the
ordinary. There was a moment of silence before the
Captain's voice came back.
<We heard something over your end of the comm,
but our sensors don't indicate a disturbance.>
"Neither do mine." Riker resumed his climb.
"Maybe it was just a broken ice block from the
surface."
<That is possible Commander,> This time it was
Data who spoke. <But I would advise caution even
so.>
"Understood." It wasn't getting any warmer.
If anything it was getting colder. He thought about
informing the ship, but the thought of Deanna
standing up on the bridge next to their Captain made
him turn the heat up on his suit instead. No use
alarming them for something trivial.
"I can see it!" Peering into the tunnel, he
examined a small colorful device in the distance. It
was a ketrion explosive all right. Right down to the
faint orange energy signature of the plasma inductor.
Having crawled the rest of the short distance
to target, Riker shifted himself into a more
manageable position and cringed at the cramped
quarters. The explosive was large, as ketrion
devices usually were. It was nearly as long as he
was tall, and it jutted into the narrow tunnel ahead
of him, bridging a four-foot gap in the floor, which
he could only assume was Deanna's drop-point. He
could probably have tipped the device right down
there, if he didn't think it would have exploded on
impact.
Riker let out a short breath and wiggled into
position, cursing the gloves on his hands even though
he knew they were necessary in a K-class atmosphere.
<Status, Number One?> Picard was clearly
anxious, and with good reason. A bomb this size
wouldn't take out half the moon. It would blow the
whole damn thing into the next quadrant.
Riker whistled low in his throat. "How the
hell did Starfleet manage to miss this thing for
sixteen years?"
<Can you see it?>
"Yes sir. It's bigger than I am. And that
isn't a bad joke. Believe me, I wish it were." Will
narrowed his gaze and tried to look past the giant
object, to no avail. It completely blocked the
tunnel ahead. His only hope was to diffuse it and
drop it down the shaft in front of him before
following.
Another tremble in the tunnel forced his hands
to the floor and Riker spat out a short string of
expletives. "That is no block of ice." He grumbled.
The other end of the comm beeped with the sound of
intermittent computer key-pressing. Data, no doubt.
The input sequence was too fast for it to have been
anyone else.
<Commander.> Picard's voice suddenly filled
Will's ears and he shivered from the increasing cold.
Casting a glance at his system read-outs Riker froze
in place.
"Shit." He whispered.
Ignoring his comment, the Captain continued his
communication. <The barion sweep has re-started,
Will. We have no indication as to how or why, but
it's less than two kilometers from your current
position and closing quickly. Can you get out of
there through the drop-point?>
"Not without blowing the bomb, I can't." Riker
keyed a sequence into his suit and sighed. "Sir, you
should also know that the atmospheric control on my
suit is failing. The way it's going right now, I
have about half an hour of air left in here."
<Best case scenario, Number One. How long will
it take you to diffuse the device?>
"Twenty minutes?" Riker guessed. The one at
the academy had taken only fifteen, but it was less
than half this size. He was being extremely arrogant
in guessing only five minutes more, but if it took
any longer than that, his arrogance would end up a
moot point anyway.
<You have twenty-six minutes until the sweep
reaches your position.> The Captain's voice was
steady, but Riker could hear the edge to it.
"Twenty eight minutes until I run out of air."
He grumbled quietly. "Understood, sir." Will spoke
aloud.
Moving with new determination, Riker's hands
closed carefully on the end of the enormous device.
His next murmur was barely audible over the open comm
link. "Jesus."
<Number One?> There was a short pause.
<Commander Riker, respond please.>
"The detonator," Riker spoke slowly; so slowly
he could barely control his own voice. His hands
dropped to his sides and he allowed himself to lean
incongruously against a smooth metal wall. "It's on
the other side of the bomb."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 96
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Absence diminishes small loves and increases
great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and fans
the bonfire."
--La Rochefoucald
--------------------
The bridge of the Enterprise had fallen deathly
silent. Even the hum of ship's activity seemed
distant when Captain Picard rose from his chair.
"Mr. Data." He moved to the con and placed his
hand on the android's shoulder. "If you were go down
there, do you believe that you would be able to reach
the device and diffuse it from the other side."
"Yes sir." Data nodded. "But that will not be
possible."
"Not possible?"
"The tunnel shaft on the other side of the
explosive is nine inches narrower than the one
Commander Riker is sitting in. I am afraid that my
dimensions do not adequately fit the required
specifications." When the Captain shook his head,
Data's shoulders rose and fell. "To put it another
way, sir ... I would not fit."
"I'll go." Counselor Troi spoke up behind them
and the Captain turned. Deanna's dark eyes were
filled with purpose.
"She would fit." Data agreed amicably, causing
Picard's expression to harden.
"Counselor, do you believe that is wise?" He
frowned. "Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't
hesitate in accepting your offer, but Doctor Crusher
has informed me that you are-"
"Pregnant, sir?" Deanna came forward. "I am.
A little less than four weeks."
"You would be putting yourself and your child
at risk." The Captain regarded her seriously.
"My child," she met his resolute stare with
one of her own. "is Commander Riker's child. And
the longer we stand here debating this issue, the
greater the risk that it will grow up without a
father."
"Counselor," Data cautioned. "You do posses
the appropriate dimensions for the task. But you are
not familiar with the device."
"Then Will can talk me through it."
The Captain thinned his lips.
"Is there any other way?" Troi placed her
hands akimbo on her hips and traded a glance between
the two officers in front of her. "Tell me, in the
next fifteen seconds because he's dying out there."
"The choice is yours, Commander." Picard
nodded gravely.
"Then consider it made." Troi marched toward
the turbolift door.
"Mr. Data, you will accompany her to the
transporter room and ensure that she has everything
she needs. I will inform Commander Riker."
"Yes sir." Data rose from his chair and
followed Deanna up the ramp.
"Captain." The Counselor turned, her eyes
locked with Picard's. "Don't tell him it's me.
He'll be anxious as it is."
For a moment, the Captain said nothing.
Finally he nodded. "I think you're right. He'll
find out soon enough."
She threw him a small but grateful smile and
then entered the lift followed closely by Data.
Picard watched them leave.
"Number One," he called through the comm.
"We're sending someone to assist you. But the area
behind the device is small and the individual
arriving has little experience with explosives."
<How little experience?>
"Theoretical training only. You're going to
have to walk her through it. Can you do that?"
Riker's exhale on the other end of the comm was
barely audible. <Yes sir.> His voice came back. He
sounded confident enough, but it wasn't like him not
to offer at least one humorous remark. Picard
sighed.
"Hang in there, Will." The Captain pulled
down on his uniform. It was evident that Will's
concern had very little to do with self-preservation.
There were over a million colonists on Cerrus.
--o--
The climb from the other side of the tunnel-
structure was significantly shorter than Deanna had
expected. No doubt, whoever had dropped off their
little explosive care package had been as
chauvinistic in their attitude toward terrorism as
the rest of the universe could sometimes seem.
As it was, space was tight -- even for her --
and though the environmental control on her own suit
was functioning perfectly, she was certain she could
sense the chill without. Will had to be close.
Her sense of him was ever-present, but in times of
crisis such as this, their own emotions tended to
overpower their ability to detect actual proximity.
She was banking on that as well.
Reaching for the keypad on her right arm,
Deanna whispered a silent apology to her husband and
remodulated the vocal frequency. She spoke into the
comm experimentally and nodded with satisfaction when
her voice came back unrecognizable.
"Commander Riker, can you hear me?" She waited
a moment, then tried again. "Sir, this is
lieutenant... Chan." Deanna cringed. She would
have to apologize to the other woman later.
<Copy that, lieutenant.>
Troi shut her eyes and exhaled.
<I can't see you. Have you made it around the
other side already?>
"Yes, sir." Deanna placed her hands against
the smooth surface of the floor and pulled her body
forward into a more accessible position near the
explosive. "The device is right in front of me."
<Good job, Chan. This is where you and I
become best friends. Don't tell my wife.>
Deanna smiled on the other end of the comm, but
said nothing.
<What's your expertise, lieutenant? What part
of the ship?>
She paused for a moment. "Medical."
<Okay. That's fine. I want you to tell me
exactly what you see on the end of the device. The
part that's glowing orange.>
"I see...a metal cylinder. It's connected to a
retrofitted plasma conductor."
<You're familiar with plasma conductors? Good.
That'll make this easier.> Riker's exhale was
audible. <When we get out of this, come and see me
about a promotion. Most medical officers don't even
look at plasma conductors until they take the bridge
officer's exam.>
Deanna pressed her lips together and opted for
silence. Mercifully, she didn't have to wait long
until he spoke again.
<I want you to get a hold of the metal
cylinder. Make sure you don't touch the conductor.
You need to turn the cylinder three times clockwise.
Three full times. Can you do that?>
"Yes," With reverent caution, Troi lifted her
gloved hand and placed it on the end of the shiny
metal object. She began turning it slowly. Once,
then again, and finally a third time. "Got it." She
stopped.
<Perfect.> Will's end of the comm was quiet
for a few seconds. <Now, there should be a small
square knob on the base of the device,
about...fifteen centimeters below the cylinder, do
you see it?>
Deanna examined the smooth metal casing in
front of her. "I don't see any..." There was no
discernable button. "Wait!" Her hand brushed
against a tiny extrusion nearly twenty-five
centimeters down. "I found it."
<Press and hold it. Then use your other hand
to pull the cylinder gently out of the cradle. I
know it goes without saying, but don't touch the
plasma conductor or we'll both be on tonight's `extra
crispy' dinner menu.>
"I'm pulling the cylinder out now." The smooth
rounded object slid easily from the device, but it
was longer than she'd imagined, and pulling it free
without touching the outer chasis became a mission of
struggle for her trembling hand. As if on cue,
Riker's voice came back.
<It's going to take a little while if you do it
right. Just have patience with it. Don't think
about those hands. I know it hurts like hell after a
while.> He paused. <Hey, do you like chocolate?>
"Yup." Deanna answered automatically,
concentrating on her focused task.
<You're doing great, lieutenant.>
"Why did you ask about the chocolate?"
<Well, my wife loves chocolate. I think it's a
female thing. She treats it like a ritual. I'm not
kidding. I think there are even candles involved.>
Troi smiled despite the predicament.
<When we get out of here, I'll buy you a
chocolate sundae. I'm *told* that Guinan makes a
pretty good one in Ten Forward.>
"Are you sure your wife won't mind?" Deanna
lifted the end of the metal object from it's core and
suddenly found herself holding the cylinder apart
from the explosive.
<Nah. She'll probably want to come along, if I
know her.>
"Then I'll hold you to that, Commander."
Troi exhaled, switching the cylinder to her other
hand, she rubbed the tired appendage on her leg.
Will's reputation as an outstanding commanding
officer was well deserved. As a Counselor, she could
have labelled every tactic he'd offered so far. But
Will wouldn't have had any idea of the proper
clinical terminology for the kind of confidence he
engendered. It seemed to be second nature for him,
and it was the sort of rapport that -- with due
respect to their closeness and friendship over the
years -- she had never witnessed from this
perspective before.
"I've got the cylinder in my hand." she held
it triumphantly.
<Excellent work lieutenant.> Riker's voice
grew serious once more. <Now set it down somewhere
behind you and look inside the edge of the hole you
just made.>
Deanna leaned forward slowly. "There's a
light." She observed.
<Yes. That's the detonator. This is where it
gets tricky. Are you still with me?> When she
hadn't responded immediately, his voice returned.
<It's Tammy, right?>
Deanna's head lifted in surprise. "Yes."
<Okay Tammy. Stay with me here and you'll be
back on the Enterprise with your boys before you know
it.>
Troi's eyes widened. He'd never mentioned that
he knew those children... "How did you know about-"
<Two little boys, if I remember correctly.>
Will went on. <Kevin and David? I think I met them
at the science fair last year. You know I remember
David's project. It was difficult to judge. He's
going to make one hell of an Engineer someday.>
Deanna swallowed mutely, feeling more disgusted
with her necessary deception than ever.
<I'll tell you a secret. We haven't really
announced it yet but -- it looks like I'm going to be
a father. I'm scared as hell!> He laughed. <I
guess that's probably a good thing. It's made me
think harder about the choices I make, anyway.> He
paused for a short time. <I guess that sounds a
little odd coming from an officer with a leaking
hazard suit.> She heard his short chuckle. <The
fact is, lately I've been thinking it'd be really
great if, some day, my son or daughter grew up and
put out a science project as amazing as David's.>
Troi shut her eyes. She nearly opened her
mouth and confessed the truth to him, but he
interrupted her before she could speak.
<This is the home stretch, lieutenant.>
Riker's tone shifted and he sucked in a labored
breath; a task that was obviously becoming more
difficult for him. <I'd love to tell you there's a
bunch of colored wire in there and all you have to do
is cut the 'red' one, but I'm afraid it's going to be
a little more complicated than that.>
"I don't see any wire at all." Deanna glanced
up at the enormous explosive and then turned her head
when Will's breathing changed yet again.
"Commander? Are you all right? What's the reading
on your suit?"
<I'm okay. Lets get this done.>
Deanna frowned. "Commander, the reading on
your suit. Now, sir. I have to report back to the
Captain, and so do you."
<Seven minutes..>
"That's not enough time!" She blurted,
regretting the outburst immediately. "You're going
to run out of air, Wi-- without finishing."
<That's why I'm going to tell you what you have
to do right now. If I pass out, you'll need to
finish on your own.> She was silent as his voice
came back. <That's an order lieutenant.
Acknowledge.>
"Yes sir." Troi spoke quietly.
<Good. Now listen carefully. The detonator
will go off if you shake it, or bump it. You have to
make sure you keep it absolutely still. There's a
light on the outer edge of the device casing.>
"I see it."
<Next to it are two plasma conduits. The blue
one provides power to the detonator cell. We can't
touch it. The black box under the detonator cell is
the trigger. It's pressure sensitive. We have to
drain the yellow plasma conduit with the kit you
brought down. It powers the computer. But be
careful with that plasma. I'll burn the hell out of
your hazard suit if you get any of it on you. Once
you've got the yellow stuff out of the cell, the blue
conduit should automatically power down as well.
Then we drop the whole damn thing into the shaft and
crawl down after it. With any luck, we'll be having
chocolate in ten-forward by dinner time.>
Deanna let out a short breath. "You make it
sound so easy."
<It is easy.> He coughed. <Just time
consuming, and we've only got...eight minutes left
until that barion sweep gets here.>
"Four minutes." She corrected. "Until you run
out of oxygen in that suit. You must be freezing."
<Forget about it. Get on that detonator,
lieutenant.>
Deanna scowled. She couldn't do anything about
the cold, but she was damned if he was going to
suffocate to death first. Without waiting for
further command, she yanked the second of two primary
oxygen tubes from her own suit and gathered up three
meters of slack from the belt. She clamped the end
shut and thrust it under the device, shoving it as
far as her arm would go before she had to push the
rest of the way.
When it poked out the other side of the metal
object, she could feel him take the slack up into his
hand.
<What are you doing? I thought I told you to
deactivate that device, lieutenant!>
She had planned on releasing the tube before he
touched it, but her action came less than a second
too late. For the merest flicker of an instant, the
artificial metal seemed to conduct their link across
the distance. She felt him. It was only a flash,
less than a nanosecond, but it was possible that he
had felt her too.
Deanna held her breath and waited. There was
silence on the other end of the comm, but the oxygen
meter on her suit registered that there were now two
users.
"I've got the kit out." She opted to move on
without addressing his remark, or the possibility
that existed. "The yellow conduit is open and I'm
collecting plasma. It looks like it's going to take
a few minutes."
<Be patient with it. You're doing great.
Don't try and collect too quickly.> his voice broke
the silence on the other end of the comm.
The ground beneath her suddenly shivered and
she had to catch the kit in her hand before it fell.
"What was that?" she asked.
<Well,> The sound of Riker's voice was almost
ironic. <It looks like that barion sweep was closer
than we thought. It's coming up the corridor behind
me.> He sighed.
Deanna froze momentarily, her gaze shifted to a
flicker of light barely visible beneath the device.
A light which undoubtedly filled the entirety of
Will's Jeffries tunnel if she was able to see even a
glimmer of it.
<Keep going!> His admonishment broke her from
her trance. <If that thing gets up here, I'd like
for the both of us to be down in the drop-point
already. But if that's not possible, then we're
going to get that bomb diffused and at least one of
us into the hole with it. Is that clear?> He asked.
<I said is that clear ... lieutenant?>
Troi watched the gauge on the kit rise far too
slowly. "Very clear." She mumbled. "Sir."
After a few moments of silence, Riker's voice
returned. <Hey, did you ever see that holo-novel
with those three people who ended up trapped in a
mountain on Earth's arctic continent?"
Deanna tilted her head. She had seen it.
She'd seen it with Will several years earlier.
"Yes." she answered. It was a popular holo-novel in
any event.
<I've always wanted to try that.>
"Being stranded in the mountains?"
<Well, I could skip that part.> He chuckled.
<But the part later on where they found that cabin...
right on the edge of the bluest lake you've ever
seen. Did you know I grew up in Alaska?>
"Yes," Deanna whispered, then caught herself,
amending, "I'd heard."
<It's beautiful there. I always thought I'd go
back and live there someday.>
Troi sat herself down against the wall and held
the kit in her hand. It was at 73%. "Do you think
you still might?" she asked.
<I don't know, honestly.>
"Your wife?" She was treading on thin ice, but
the question begged asking.
He responded almost immediately. <She hates
the cold.>
"Well, have you ever asked her? She might make
an exception...for you."
<Nah, I don't think I could stand to watch her
shivering all day long.> He laughed and so did she.
<But I would like to show her where I grew up,
someday.>
"She'd probably like that." Deanna glanced at
the meter again. 84%.
<You think so?>
"I think you should ask her to go with you
sometime. See what she says."
<How's that meter?> Riker suddenly asked.
"92%" Deanna shifted to her feet and crouched
in front of the device. "Another minute. Just
under."
<That barion sweep is going to be right here in
about thirty seconds. I want you to listen to me.
It'll take an extra thirty seconds or more for the
sweep to make it's way over to your end. I want you
to drain the conduit completely. Then get the hell
in that hole. Do you understand?>
"Like hell." Deanna hissed over the comm.
<I beg your pardon?>
"I'm increasing the pressure of the intake and
we're both getting out of here in thirty seconds."
<Lieutenant!> He yelled back. <That was an
order!>
She didn't respond. Turning the small valve in
her grasp, Deanna doubled the plasma flow into the
kit. She held the box perfectly still, praying to
every god she knew. The seconds ticked by and the
gauge on the kit read 96%, 97%.
Will's rate of breathing increased and the
light on the other end of the device flashed with
unnatural brilliance. 98%, 99%.
100%. Deanna snapped the kit shut and threw
her entire weight against the device, not even
bothering to wait and see if the blue plasma had
actually extinguished. The explosive was
surprisingly light. It shifted beneath her and
tumbled into the hole.
On the other side of the gap, Riker crouched in
close-quarters, shivering against the wall. The
lethal touch of the barion sweep hovered only
centimeters away from his suit.
Troi wasn't sure if he even realized that the
device had fallen. She leapt across the distance and
hooked the back of his belt with her gloved hand,
pulling him into the gap only an instant behind her.
--o--
Deanna hit the cold metal ground with a hard
thump. Her leg went numb beneath her and the small
of her back cried out in agony. Were it not for the
immediacy of the moment, she might even have
expressed that pain vocally. As it was, she somehow
found the energy to crawl forward and drag herself
out of the line of the hole.
A flash of radiance illuminated the tunnel
several meters above the their heads; it hovered at
the drop-point, but the orange light only licked the
edges of the gap before rolling unnaturally over it.
Allowing the release of a long-held breath,
Deanna tipped the back of her head against the wall.
It tapped the tunnel surface with a metal clank.
Riker shifted on the ground and rolled onto his
knees. He shook his head slowly and lifted a gloved
hand to his helmet. His gaze drifted from one end
of the small space to the other. Until it seemed he
had found what he was looking for.
It was very dark. The unnatural glow of the
barion sweep was the only source of light above their
heads. But Deanna saw Will crawl slowly forward in
silhouette. She examined his suit for the shadow of
their make-shift oxygen attachment and breathed a
sigh of relief when it was still there.
"I thought I told you not to touch that
pressure valve...lieutenant." He admonished her over
the comm.
"Was that an order?" She asked innocently.
The effect might have been complete except that her
leg hurt like hell and she winced visibly when the
movement of her body displaced it.
"Are you okay?" His voice grew worried and he
moved toward her.
Deanna tested her weight on the leg and found
that, while it hurt initially, the limb was
definitely not broken. She nodded and whispered into
her helmet. "Yeah."
Riker looked as though he'd been about to come
by and take a look at the injury. His body shivered
in the cold, reminding her that they still had to
make it a few more meters to the transport
coordinates. Lifting herself into a half-crouch, she
saw him continue toward her, only he didn't stop.
Nearly collapsing from the effort, Will pulled
her into his arms and fell against the wall where
she'd been sitting. Their helmets collided with the
force of his embrace. "God damn it, Sparks, don't
ever do that again." He whispered harshly into the
comm but his arms moved over her back.
"Me?" She asked incredulously, not even
bothering to wonder how or why he knew. Her gloved
hands brushed over the front of his helmet but her
relieved expression changed in an instant. "You're
freezing, Will. We have to get you out of here."
"Hey," He whispered softly. "--grew up in
Alaska, remember? I can take a little ... cold."
She was holding onto him when his hands slipped
out from behind her and his body collapsed in her
arms.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 97
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Words have divided man from woman,
one from another, this from that,
until only sages know how to put things together.
Without words, without even understanding,
lovers find each other.
... The moment of finding is always a surprise,
like meeting an old friend never before known."
--Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching
--------------------
Riker woke with one hell of a neck-ache and the
feeling that his mouth had been washed out with
sandpaper. Wincing uncomfortably, he pried his eyes
open and squinted into the harshest light he'd ever
seen.
"I'm either in sick-bay, or I'm in hell." He
grumbled against the protest of his vocal chords.
"You're in hell, Riker." Beverly Crusher moved
beside him, scanning his body with an instrument that
looked vaguely familiar. On the other hand,
everything in sick-bay looked `vaguely' familiar.
But none of it made any sense anyway.
"Sorry Doc," he amended, allowing his eyes to
open fully. Something soft and warm stirred against
his leg. "I can't be in hell ... Deanna's here."
Crusher paused and threw him an amused glance.
"You get points for that one. Even I have to admit."
She smiled and returned to her task.
Lifting a hand from beneath the silver sheath
that covered most of his body, Riker touched the
Counselor's hair. She was sleeping quietly; dark
curls spilled with restless abandon against the cover
on his leg. Riker looked at the doctor and then
back at his wife. In a few moments, the stirring of
the room would probably wake Deanna ... if her sense
of him hadn't already.
"Hey Doc?" he whispered, treating Beverly to a
serious expression. "How is she?"
Crusher looked for a moment as though she were
about to scold him, but something changed her mind.
"She's fine." The doctor sighed; a slight smile
touched the corners of her lips. "They're both
fine."
Fine. Riker's exhale was audible. "She saved
my life, you know." He let his eyes wander over her
features while his hand moved slowly against her
hair. Deanna would never know how close he'd come
to-
"Yes, well, I don't know what she was thinking
on that call." Crusher smirked.
Riker lifted his gaze. A look of surprise
crossed his features and his mouth hung open in a
show of indignation. "You wound me, doctor."
"You did good, Commander." Beverly touched his
shoulder. "You both did." Snapping her instrument
closed, Crusher moved to a nearby table and set the
object down. "The Captain was in earlier to see
you."
The Captain? Had it really been that serious?
Mindful of the presence on his leg, Riker sat up
slowly. "How long have I been out?" He watched
Deanna's body shift and her head begin to lift.
"About eleven hours."
"What?"
"You came back with severe hypothermia, Will."
Beverly admonished. "I had to induce a coma to keep
you resting so that your body could finish off the
repairs that we started. Medicine is still a matter
of healing, you know, I can't just wave my magic wand
and make it all better. It's a wonder you didn't
suffocate to death first. You can thank Deanna for
that as well."
Finally upright in her seat, Deanna pressed a
hand to her forehead. "Beverly," she whispered
tiredly, "stop harassing Will."
"See doc? She's on my side now." Riker
grinned triumphantly.
"You, shut up." Deanna rounded on him. Her
voice dropped and her eyes narrowed. "You almost got
yourself killed."
Crusher laughed. "I'll leave you two
'lovebirds' alone." Replacing the last of the
instruments on her tray, Beverly made good her
promise. She was humming as she left, and Riker
scowled at her back. God, it infuriated him when she
did that.
With the doctor out of the room, there was
little to do but face the moment. Riker glanced
down at his lap and then up at Troi. She was staring
at him frankly, and her lack of communication spoke
greater volumes than any words.
"You know you disobeyed a direct order down
there." He paused. That was a great way to open a
dialogue. Especially with her. Not what he had
planned to say to her first thing when he got back,
either. He shook his head and sighed. "Deanna-"
"Will, wait. I want to apologize." Her dark
eyes seemed to look right through him but her words
had been the last thing he'd expected. "Apologize
for misleading you." She smirked at the confusion on
his face. "Disobeying your orders was probably the
best decision either of us made down there."
He glared at her, then thought better of his
ready remark. "Well then I guess you missed your
calling. That little bit about Tammy Chan was worthy
of an award. You really had me going ... for a
while."
"We," she began, "I ... though it would be
better, for the sake of the mission, and for you ...
if you didn't know. It was wrong of me." She looked
down at her hands contritely.
Suddenly all the anger he'd been carefully
cultivating slipped through his grasp like water.
How the hell did she do that? His eyes narrowed and
he entertained an uncharitable notion regarding her
empathy. But even he had to concede that the idea
seemed outrageous ... for Deanna. She was looking
at him strangely and he knew that she'd caught at
least a flash of what he'd been trying to suppress.
Okay, so he wasn't angry anymore. And she was just
being ... Deanna.
"Nah," he offered her a defeated shake of the
head. "I think you did the right thing. When I knew
it was you, I had a whole new set of hyper-spanners
carving out the inside of my gut." The sight of
her half-smile made him long for the other half.
"When did you know?" she asked.
"You have to ask?"
"When I passed you the oxygen unit."
He shrugged. "You know I had this *feeling*
down there that you were close by. Only I didn't
know whether that was because I wanted it, or because
I was thinking about you so much. I guess the way it
turns out, you were more of an asset to the mission
than I was."
Deanna reached for his hand and folded it in
hers. "I don't know the first thing about disarming
an explosive, Will. I was terrified I was going to
make a mistake, but there you were, walking me
through it. You kept me focused and calm. You were
wonderful."
"You know, if it really had been lieutenant
Chan down there, she and I would both be dead right
now." He leveled his gaze on her but Deanna shook
her head. "You don't even know what I'm talking
about, do you? Do you remember the second half of
the bridge officer's exam? The part you hated almost
as much as the tactical drill? We must have gone
over that section a dozen or more times and I was
trying to convince you how important it was ... you
were ready to throw something at me." He grinned.
"Warp mechanics?" Deanna groaned at the
memory. "As I recall, I did throw something at you."
She smirked. "I could never be an engineer, that's
for sure."
"Maybe not." He shrugged. "But you saved both
our lives down there because of that exam. Tammy
Chan is a fine officer. I know she works with Doctor
Crusher's team, but I'm willing to bet she doesn't
know the first thing about plasma conductors. You
hooked the kit in there and started the conduit flush
before I even had a chance to go over how to do it.
Which saved us about a minute of talking. And as I
recall, we ended up in that hole about three seconds
before the sweep."
"I didn't even think about it." She breathed.
He nodded. "That's the point. We do the
exercises so many times because when we're stuck in
an emergency, we usually *can't* think. It's got to
be automatic." He threw her a crooked smile. "Now I
bet you feel really guilty for throwing that statue
at me."
"It didn't hit you." she blinked.
"Ha! That's your version." He laughed.
"It didn't!" Deanna rose from her chair and
sat on the edge of his bed. "I remember that day
clearly."
"And what about this day?" Riker's expression
sobered and he squeezed their joined hands. "Do we
go on pretending that we can separate our duty to
this ship from the way we feel about each other?"
"I don't understand."
"When you volunteered to die down there,
Deanna, did you do it because another officer's life
was in danger? Or because my life was in danger?"
"That is *not* fair!" Her dark eyes flashed.
"Would you have gone down there if it had been
Data in that tunnel? Risked the life of our child?"
he pressed.
"Yes." Deanna answered automatically.
"Wouldn't you?"
"I don't know." He admitted, staring up at
her. "I guess I might never know because I could
never know what it's like to carry a child."
"Will," she exhaled softly. "The life inside
my body will grow and become a child someday. And
when it does, it will need the love and support of
both its parents. I know what it's like," she shook
her head, "to grow up without a father. You know
what it's like to lose a mother. Yes. The risk to
the baby was there. I could have lost it. I could
have died down there with you and we would all be
gone." Her eyes were so large, he nearly drowned in
them. "But I don't want to raise a child alone.
We're having this baby together. And we will love it.
But when I knew that you were dying and that there
was something I could do to save your life ... I
loved you more." She swallowed and hung her head.
"I've thought about that a lot since we came back.
And how it might mean that I can never be the kind of
mother my own was. But I don't think that's true."
She threaded their fingers.
He stared at her for a timeless moment, then
brought her hand to his lips. "I don't either." He
kissed her and sighed. "But nothing about the
choices we made convinces me that the reason you went
down there wasn't primarily because it was me."
"Maybe it was!" She made a frustrated noise.
"Maybe I didn't think before I volunteered because in
that moment, that's exactly what it was. But this
crew is our family Will. Yours and mine, and if it
were anyone else down there, even given the luxury of
thought, don't you think that we'd make the same
choices?"
"Yeah, I guess." He raked his hands backward
through his hair. "Damn it, Deanna, I'm not trying
to be a jerk about this."
"I know that." She drew their hands apart and
touched his face.
"I think ... it scares me. A little. We've
been back on board for less than a week and-"
"And what? You took a kamikaze assignment, and
I jumped in after you because letting you die wasn't
an option? How many other times has that happened to
us already? Will, do you think I haven't noticed
when you've come find me, apart from the entire away-
team, just to give me some trivial bit of
information? Or when something explodes and we all
hit the ground ... I look up and your eyes are
staring back at mine?"
"I've never really thought about that." Riker
frowned.
"No, of course not. Because we were `just
friends', right? No attachments, no complications.
So you could throw yourself on top of me in an
explosion and feel justified that it was only because
I was the nearest body?" She almost laughed. "The
only thing our `simple' friendship offered us over
the years was an excuse."
"We've been a good team, Deanna."
"Yes. We always have been, and part of that is
because of the bond we've shared." She looked back
at him with resolution. "Maybe we'll be an even
better team now."
"I want to believe that." He sighed.
"Then what's stopping you? Will, your feelings
for me haven't changed. Only the circumstance of our
relationship has. In my opinion, we've been proving
Starfleet's assessment wrong for the past eight years
on board this ship. Sleeping with you hasn't made
me care any more whether you live or die. Has it
done that for you?"
"No." He smiled at her affectionately.
"Then why do I feel like I'm trying to convince
you of something we already talked about before we
were married?"
"Because," Riker began quietly. "I remember
when we encountered that cosmic string, and you lost
your empathic ability for a while. The night I came
to see you in your quarters."
Deanna nodded and a puzzled frown touched her
expression.
"You were so vulnerable; so scared, and all I
remember wanting to do was to show you -- somehow --
how much you had to offer without that gift. Even
though it was such a huge part of you. You didn't
seem to realize how strong you were being already."
"I wanted to scream," she added carefully. "I
needed to cry, and I felt so completely alone that I
couldn't do either. Not until you were there." The
memory made her shiver. "As much as I learned from
that encounter, I don't ever want to go through it
again." Her eyes met his.
"What made an impression on me was when I held
you, and I could feel you let go. I realized that if
you and I hadn't shared a history before the
Enterprise ... I probably wouldn't have been there."
"I know." She whispered, leaning forward and
sharing the close space of his cot, Deanna placed her
head on his chest. "I thought about that too, before
you came. Everyone else respected my demand for
privacy. I felt trapped on a ship full of friends.
And there was no one. What if we hadn't been close
that way? What if you were just the first officer
and I was just the counselor? I was so lost that
night, and when you didn't judge me; when you pulled
me against you and I felt your hands on my back, I
loved you so much."
"You wanted me to stay." He whispered into her
hair and she looked up at him in awe.
"How did you know?"
"Because," he sighed, "that was the first time
since I'd known you that you were thinking and acting
like ... a human woman. One without the benefit of
sensing how anyone else was feeling. I could feel
the way you were responding to me, and I knew."
"But you didn't-"
"Oh, trust me, Deanna, the way I was feeling
right then, with your arms around my neck ... I
wanted to."
"I would have let you." She sighed. "I was
almost ready to beg you."
Riker drew his arm around her and smiled. "I'm
glad you didn't. I'm glad that we were both stronger
than that, because what you needed that night wasn't
a lover. It was friend. It was someone who cared
more about you than about Starfleet. I think we all
need someone like that, no matter where we're
serving..."
She nodded mutely.
"So, I guess I knew then, if I ever knew at
all, that serving together didn't always mean we
could keep things separate."
"Then lets stop trying." Deanna wiggled into
an upright position and laid her head next to his.
"Why make ourselves sick, dancing around protocol
when we can just admit who we are and let it be a
part of how we serve as officers." Her sharp gaze
found him looking back with interest. "No one denies
the loyalty of a friend to another friend in
Starfleet, and I say that if the situation arises
where Fleet questions our ability to function...we
hold up the past eight years and we fight that
decision together."
"Well, when you put it that way ... yes ma'am."
His blue eyes sparkled.
"Good." She laughed. "Now that we're square on
that ... how are you feeling?"
"Like I want to get the hell out of sickbay,"
he smirked. "Despite present company."
"Present company agrees." She wrinkled her
nose. "You know, I don't see Beverly hanging around
to protest that desire, do you? And ... as I recall
... you owe *someone* a chocolate sundae, Commander."
"Oh, that's right." Riker stroked his chin
thoughtfully. "I guess I'd better call lieutenant
Chan."
Deanna slapped his chest and pressed against
him. "You'd better not!"
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 98
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"When all's said and done, all roads lead to the same
end.
So it's not so much which road you take, as how you
take it."
--Charles de Lint
--------------------
"It appears we may have a saboteur on our
hands." Captain Picard folded his hands on the
conference room table and regarded his senior staff
gravely. They had assembled in the late afternoon
and it was already ship's evening.
"Are you serious?" Crusher leaned forward in
her chair.
"Quite, doctor. Starfleet confirms that they
did not give the order to resume the barion sweep.
Yet it seems impossible that anyone not affiliated
with Starfleet might have known there was even an
attempt to dismantle the explosive. Not to mention
having the appropriate access codes to reinitialize a
level four security protocol."
"You're saying that someone in Starfleet had
reason to sabotage the mission and possibly kill
Commander Riker?" Off the Captain's unchanged
expression, Geordi LaForge let out a low whistle.
"That's huge."
"How would they have known precisely when we'd
be down there? There are four ships in this vicinity
and it took three days just to choose a volunteer."
Deanna shook her head. "It doesn't make any sense."
"The walls have ears." Riker muttered softly.
"What did you say, Commander?"
"Sir, before I went down there, I had a chat
with the transporter chief. He already knew about
the ketrion explosive. When I asked him how he'd
received the information, he said the walls have
ears. At the time, I didn't think much of it. On a
ship this size, information flies around. And we
didn't exactly seal this one with as much red tape as
we might have. The fact that the chief knew more
than he should have seemed harmless. Now, though,
I'm not so sure."
"Number One, are you suggesting that someone on
this *ship* might be responsible for the incident?"
Picard threw him a serious look.
"Not yet, sir. But I am saying that it's a
possibility."
"We should question the transporter chief."
The interim chief of security cut in. "He might
know something."
"I've known Robert Harlam for years." Geordi
argued. "I just can't believe that he would-"
"I don't think so, either, Geordi." Riker
shrugged. "But we need to get an indication of just
how much information was available and who had access
to it. I think Lieutanant Quan has a point."
"Why would someone in Starfleet want to destroy
an entire planet?" Troi interjected, still frowning.
"A fair question Counselor." Picard exhaled.
"And one I hope we'll have an answer to in short
order." His gaze traveled to Quan who nodded
briefly. "I'd like you all to keep your eyes and
ears open."
"There's something else." Crusher sighed. "I
was going to report to the Captain after the
briefing, but since it pertains directly to this
discussion."
"You may share your findings here, Doctor."
Picard nodded.
"Geordi and I finished the bio-electric
analysis on the equipment we brought back from that
moon. We weren't sure at first, but we're positive
now that Commander Riker's hazard suit was tampered
with."
"What?" Deanna's mouth fell open.
"We don't know how or why, but the life support
unit was programmed to malfunction." LaForge went
on. "Based on that alone, I'd have to say it looks
like at least one of the people responsible *is* on
board the Enterprise."
"I'd like your report as soon as possible, Mr.
LaForge. Followed by Doctor Crusher's." The Captain
reclined in his chair. "Starfleet has yet to
determine an official course of action, but I have a
feeling we may be facing a call to space dock and a
JAG investigation if we cannot resolve this matter on
our own." He afforded each of his officers a serious
look. "In the interim, our next mission assignment
will be taking us to the galayr star cluster. For
the moment, we will proceed as usual."
There were nods around the table and a furtive
glance from Troi to Riker, off which he shrugged
almost imperceptibly.
"Number One," Picard continued on cue. "While
I find serious cause to doubt that anyone on board
this ship would wish you harm, I think we do need to
acknowledge the possibility of a threat. It's
possible that the incident was isolated to Cerrus'
moon, but there may be more to it than that. Given
the risks, I would advise you to exercise whatever
caution you feel is necessary."
"With all due respect sir," Riker's steel blue
eyes met his Captain's dark gaze. "I'm not about to
let anyone bully me around. And I'm certainly not
about to leave this ship."
The Captain offered a slight smile. "I had a
feeling that would be your answer, but you must
understand I had to present you with the option."
Riker nodded.
"Very well then." Picard's voice was firm.
"We will reconvene tomorrow morning at 0800 to
discuss whatever new findings we may have.
Dismissed."
Senior officers rose from the conference room
table and began filing from the room, but Riker held
back. Catching Deanna's curious look, he waved her
on and she left with the others.
"Sir, may I have a moment?" Riker held the
back of his chair and tipped it restlessly.
"Of course, Will."
"I seriously doubt that Robert Harlam had
anything to do with what happened to me down there."
"As do I, number one." Picard nodded. "But I
think you also made a valid point in suggesting that
he might allow us a clue about who did have something
to do with it."
"I'm not certain I want to believe that it was
anyone on the Enterprise." Riker sighed. "There's
not an officer on board this ship that I wouldn't
give my life for. I owe my life to several of them
already."
With a thoughtful frown, the Captain began
walking slowly around the table. "Have you
considered that it may not be an officer at all?
There are civilians on board."
"Civilians with access to classified
information?"
"Civilians who may not be civilians at all."
Picard tilted his head. "We may be dealing with a
professional. And setting aside the imminent threat
to Cerrus, that possibility begs the question of
whether or not you know of any person or persons who
might have had cause to want you dead?"
"Permission to speak freely sir?"
"Always."
Riker raked his hands back through his hair.
"I guess I've made a few enemies in my life, but no
one I can think of who'd be able to pull something
like this off. And a Ketrion explosive? That thing
was down there for sixteen years. Do you really
think it could have been personal?"
"I wish I knew the answer to that. But you
should be prepared that if this goes to JAG, they
will be digging fairly closely into your past." The
older man's eyes met Will's.
"I understand." Riker gave the back of the
chair one final tug and then released it with a snap.
"Do you?" The seriousness of Picard's
expression never wavered and Riker frowned. It was
damned unnerving, especially because he knew exactly
what it was his Captain was asking. There was only
one question left, and it was definitely on the way.
"Yes, sir." Will nodded slowly.
"Have you spoken to Counselor Troi?" There it
was. The question.
"Not as yet, sir."
"Well," Picard exhaled, "I'm certain the time
will present itself."
"I imagine it will, sir." Riker paused and
then changed the subject. "Speaking of Deanna. We
were ... going to pick out quarters and I had an
idea, but I'd hoped to ask your permission first."
"Of Course." Mercifully, the Captain offered
no protest for the obviously deliberate segue.
Lifting a PADD the stack he'd brought with him, Riker
handed it to the older man. Picard perused its
contents for a time, then looked up with a smile. "I
rather think it's ingenious."
Riker grinned. "Then I have your approval?"
"You do."
Will took the PADD back and tucked it under his
arm.
"Oh, and number one? Congratulations, again.
It was a remarkable ceremony. I wouldn't have
imagined anything less fitting."
"Thanks." Riker's nod was brief before he
exhaled. He and Deanna would settle the matter of
quarters tonight -- if fate managed to smile on them
with a free minute or two. And after that? After
that, there would be plenty of time to sit her down
and tell her the truth about ... the other thing.
Plenty of time. Tomorrow.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 99
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"May you live all the days of your life."
--Jonathan Swift
--------------------
Deanna's quarters were empty when Riker
arrived. The light beneath her doorway was out and
she wasn't responding to the entry chime. He rang
again.
"Computer, location of Counselor Troi?"
<Counselor Troi is in cabin nine-twelve>
Riker smiled. "Okay." Walking several paces
to the next door in the hall, he keyed in his access
code and stepped inside. "Deanna?"
"I'm in here." He heard her call out from an
adjacent room. Riker made his way to the bedroom,
moving through the semi-lit space until he stood in
the doorframe. Deanna was there.
Sitting on his coverlet, wearing a t-shirt of
his from Earth, with her legs bent at the knees and
her bare feet flat on the spread, she made his heart
skip a beat.
A small stack of PADDs lay next to her and she
held one of them in her hand, studying its contents
with a perplexed frown. When he entered the room,
she looked up and smiled at him.
"You know it doesn't make any sense at all why
these aren't alphabetized." She held the PADD aloft
and tapped it on her knee. "It takes me twice as
long to go through them when they're organized by
rank rather than name." Her expression faltered when
she saw his face, but the smile she wore widened.
"What?" she asked, staring down at herself then back
at him. "What?"
"Nothing." He grinned.
"You're giddy," she laughed. "What is it?"
"It's just ... this." He extended his arm
toward her. "This is what it's going to be like,
isn't it? I walk in here and you're sitting there,
working on something. And who the hell cares what it
is, but you're doing it here, and that means that
it's us. Together." He paused for the flicker of a
moment. "Did that make any sense at all?" Riker
shook his head and chuckled. "Because if not, I
don't think I know how to rephrase it."
She was laughing at him when he leapt onto the
bed and took her face in his hands. "Maybe this'll
make more sense." He captured her mouth with a
fervent kiss.
Taken by surprise, Deanna stiffened in his
grasp. But only for a moment. Her arm fell slack,
the PADD in her grasp clattered to the floor and her
hand, suddenly free, moved up to tangle in his hair.
"I think," her breath tickled his lips before he
kissed her again, "it's starting," and again, "to
make sense."
The ache of unrequited desire ignited between
them; the past five days had seemed the longest of
their lives. When he pulled her forward, positioning
her body firmly beneath his attention, she was
gasping for breath.
"God, I want you." Riker whispered. The brush
of his face in the nape of her neck made her whole
body shiver. "I love you," he added. Because he knew
she loved it when he said the words aloud.
The feeling of her warm lips, soft as silk
against his skin, drove his mind to a familiar place
and his body to distraction. She was answering him
in the way she knew *he* loved.
Bodies tousled in the sheet of the coverlet,
soft words and whispers exchanged before he was able
to master the desperate plea of his physical desire.
Pulling away from the torrid pleasure of her kisses,
Riker distanced himself only long enough to say
another word. "Wait. Wait a second." He gasped.
Falling onto her back with a soulful sigh,
Deanna shut her eyes. Will looked down at her;
flushed and breathless, and he groaned. "I--um--I
think I found a resolution to the problem of
quarters," He finally managed.
She opened her eyes. "Really?"
"Yeah. If you like it, we can have it set up
tomorrow." He smiled at the light in her eyes.
Deanna propped the side of her head in her
hand. "What is it?"
Wordlessly, he reached for the other end of the
bed where a small PADD lay incongruously on the edge
of the sheet. Exactly where he'd dropped it.
Handing his prize to her, he waited while she looked
it over.
"Will," her eyes lifted. "It's perfect."
"I was hoping you'd say that." Falling onto
his own elbow, he faced her directly. "I know we
were having a hard time deciding what kind of space
we needed, or which deck we wanted it on. And since
both of us have two rooms already and we practically
live next door, I thought ... what if we just took
out the wall?"
"I love it." She beamed.
"I'll be a little big for two people in the
beginning." He conceded, "But since we do have some
company on the way..." his hand fell to her abdomen
and he pressed his palm lightly against the oversized
shirt.
Deanna shifted forward, forcing him onto his
back. Her small hands held her body up on either
side of his shoulders and her knee pressed into the
bed between his legs. "I think the company will love
it, too." Her voice preceded her kiss and he let
himself bear the slight weight of her body when it
settled on top of his.
Drawing his arms around her, Riker closed his
eyes when she laid the side of her head against his
chest; her hair caressed his chin. "Deanna," he
breathed in the warm smell of her shampoo. It had
been his intention to put off telling her any more
than the news about the quarters tonight, but ...
"There's something else I need to talk to you about."
He finally sighed.
Deanna stirred against his body. Her hands
brushed over the fabric of his uniform and she
exhaled. "I know."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 100
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"We have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of
the night."
--Charles de Lint
--------------------
"Deanna, talk to me." William Riker stood at
the edge of the room watching his wife's back. She
was staring at the replicator as though it had an
answer he'd somehow failed to give her. "Please.
Damn it." He exhaled loudly and pulled his hands
through his hair. "I knew this was going to happen."
She faced him with an inscrutable expression.
"I think we should wait. With the wall."
For a moment, Riker felt as though the wind had
been knocked out of him. Of all the things she might
have said, that wasn't one of the alternatives he'd
envisioned. Then again, the way she'd said it -- it
wasn't exactly good news either. "Yeah. Okay." He
nodded. "I guess that's probably a good idea."
"No!" she shook her head angrily. "It's not a
good idea! And you shouldn't have let me get away
with suggesting it!"
To the dismay and utter horror of his own
pride, Riker flinched. "What do you want me to say?"
"I don't even know what to think." Her
beautiful eyes filled with conflict. "I need to
think. And I can't do that here." She turned for
the door and he moved from the wall but her voice in
his thoughts stopped him short.
"Fine," he answered audibly, "okay," watching
her go. "But I *will* see you later!" he called out
as the entry slid shut. One way or another, he'd
force the conversation if he had to.
Riker examined the doorway for almost a minute
after she'd gone. His eyes turned out into the room,
and he glanced at all the 'things' in his cabin that
made up a decor he'd once prided himself on.
Funny how so many of the objects were somehow
related to her. He'd never really noticed that
before. But it was true. With few exceptions, almost
everything on his shelves and tables, his walls and
floors were items of personal interest he'd picked up
in his travels; travels either with her ... or
thinking of her. Or they were gifts she'd given him.
On the eve of the day they were going to have
'combined' their worldly possessions into one space,
such a revelation was almost enough to make him
laugh. He frowned instead. Scooping his uniform
jacket off a nearby chair, Riker slung it wide --
over his shoulder. He left his cabin, and headed for
his own place to think.
--o--
Ten Forward was unusually gloomy when Guinan offered
the latest of the guests at her bar a wry smirk.
"It's funny." She set a glass down with practiced
grace, waiting until her patron's eyes settled on
her. "For most people, the week after their
honeymoon is disgustingly happy. All that hope for a
bright future. That dreamy look in their eyes that
the rest of us have to stare at until reality sets
in. It can be a real pain in the ass." She
shrugged. "But I have to commend you, Commander ...
you look like hell."
"Thanks." Riker scowled, then glanced at the
glass which had suddenly materialized in his hand.
"This wasn't exactly where I wanted to be either."
"Ah," she nodded. "Then why are you here?"
"Because the targ in the holodeck got boring."
"Good reason." Reaching behind her, the
El'Aurian pulled out a tall bottle of amber liquid
and held it aloft. "Genuine Tarcalian brandy. You
know I've had this since 2166."
Riker frowned and shrugged. "I'm not in the
mood."
"Good." She smiled. "Because it's nine hundred
credits a glass."
He choked. "Nine ... hundred?"
Guinan's slight nod was followed by an equally
gamine smile. "I only keep it so that I can pull it
out ever few months and taunt some poor soul with
it."
"See, that's just it!" Riker suddenly threw
her a disparaging look. "The ... bit about the
soul." he clarified, off her curious look. "The
spirit. Whatever the hell you want to call it. I
*used* to be able to go into the holodeck and beat
the hell out of something-"
"Like a targ." The El'Aurian offered
helpfully.
He nodded. "-and I'd feel better. At least
for a while. But ever since Deanna and I completed
this damn bond, I can't feel better. I can only feel
her ... everywhere." He grumbled. "I can't even get
through the first level without knowing that she's
somewhere on this ship. And she's miserable."
"Sort of like you?"
"Maybe." His shoulders fell. "I guess so."
"Except that she probably doesn't have a date
with a targ."
Riker shook his head and laughed bitterly.
"Probably not."
"Do you think she would be interested in the
brandy, then? I haven't sold any in seven years."
"At nine hundred credits a glass..." he
muttered.
"It's no wonder, is it?" Guinan furrowed her
brow. "Some things are just too expensive to sell.
Maybe I should give it away."
"Pretty costly gift."
She continued to examine the bottle. "But then
if I give it away, and I don't expect anything in
return, how will I know if it was worthwhile?"
"Are we having one of those discussions that
usually goes over my head?" Riker tipped his empty
glass and looked inside it.
"You're a smart man, Commander." Guinan
smiled. "When you're not beating up on a poor targ."
"I wish she'd just talk to me." Riker finally
sighed.
"You mean, you wish she'd come in here and sit
down next to you and tell you what she's thinking?"
He looked up. "Exactly."
"Amazing."
"What?"
Guinan tipped the brandy in her hand. "The one
on this bottle is all rubbed off. Looks like it used
to be a two." She shook her head. "I guess this
isn't the 2166 after all. I'd better go see what
happened to the original. Selling it is one thing,
giving it away is another, but I certainly don't want
to just lose it." Without another word, she
disappeared behind the bar, leaving Riker to stare
after her in perplexed amusement.
"Will," Deanna was suddenly next to him. Her
presence filled his 'poor' soul with a breath of
familiar warmth. "is this seat taken?" she indicated
the chair to his right.
He looked up her and a grateful smile touched
his lips. "Amazing." he echoed softly.
"What?" she shook her head.
"Do you like brandy?"
=///=
--------------------
Chapter 101
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"When choosing between two evils, I always like to
try the one I've never tried before."
--Mae West
--------------------
"I'll deal with it."
"You'll deal with it?" Deanna moved around him
like a cat, gauging his response while he sat
miserably in the center of what was increasingly an
uncomfortable chair. They'd left the bar nearly an
hour ago and taken up refuge in the far corner of the
Ten Forward lounge; a spot where two tables met,
except one of them had been shoved aside to make room
for a chair that Deanna wasn't sitting in.
"I said I would."
"And I'm saying that's bullshit."
"Deanna!" He opened his mouth in mock horror,
"You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Shut up, Riker." She pulled on the chair she
wasn't sitting in and turned it around so that she
could straddle it backwards.
Grabbing a bottle of (decidedly young)
Tarcalian brandy from the center of their table,
Riker poured himself two fingers full. "All right."
He scowled, "if I don't deal with it, then what the
hell do you suggest I do?"
"Nothing."
His jaw dropped. "I'm not even going to ask-"
"Look," she yanked the bottle from his grasp
and shoved it toward the opposite end of the table.
"If there is a JAG investigation, and I emphasize the
word *if*, then *we* will deal with it ...
together." Her dark eyes pinned him with a sharp
look. "I'm not letting you go off half-cocked on
some mission of self-destruction just so that you can
spare me the trouble of having to watch you
annihilated by a board of inquisition."
"I am *not* half cocked!" He yelled back.
Then suddenly shook his head, "Annihilated?" his
voice was decidedly smaller.
Deanna ignored him. "Listen to me very
carefully. I spent two years working with the JAG
office in San Francisco."
"You never told me tha-"
"Will you shut up for a minute!" she hissed,
glancing around as though to ensure their privacy.
"I was a psych evaluator, but I picked up a few
things, and one of those things is that your offering
your own head up as a noble sacrifice isn't going to
stop them from taking another three heads once yours
is gone."
"I can't tell them the whole truth." He stared
back at her blankly. "That's not an option."
"That's for damn sure." She agreed.
"Are you suggesting that I out and out lie?"
"No."
He shook his head in confusion, but she was
staring at him as though she knew something he had
yet to discover. Her lip curled into a smile.
"There are ways of avoiding the truth without lying."
Riker leaned back in his chair. "Wow," he
smirked suggestively. "You know it really turns me
on when you act this way."
Deanna made a frustrated noise and slapped his
hand away from her wrist. "This is serious, Will."
"I've never seen you like this before."
"I've never been married to a criminal before."
His face fell. "Then it doesn't matter anyway,
does it? If your opinion of me is any less than it
was this morning, none of this is worth it. None of
it!" He snatched the bottle back with a viciousness
that startled her.
"Will," she reached for the brandy again, but
laid her hand on top of his instead of taking the
bottle. "If I thought any less of you, I wouldn't be
here right now." He opened his mouth to protest,
but she silenced him with a look. "The fact is, what
happened was an accident."
"I killed a Starfleet officer, Deanna." He
looked away. "He was unarmed, and I shot him point
blank in the chest. I knew exactly what I was doing.
I wanted him dead."
Her black eyes hardened with intent. "Which is
exactly what you can't tell a board of inquiry."
"It's what happened. It's the truth." He let
her have the brandy. She set it down.
"In black and white." Deanna scowled. "And I
could pick up that report, not knowing a thing about
you, and I could think a hundred horrible things
about your character that just aren't true!" She
shoved away from the chair and stood. "Don't you see
that there's more at stake than the facts here?
Isn't that why you've kept this a secret for so
long?"
"Yes! Damn it." His hand fell with a
vengeance on the metal surface of the table. "But if
they go digging into my past, it's not going to stay
a secret, and I think I have to prepare for that."
"I, I, I-" Deanna shook her head.
"We! All right? We have to prepare for it."
He looked away. "I'm sorry."
"You are sorry. You're sorry you married me
right now."
"I'm sorry you have to go through this."
"How charitable of you." She narrowed her
eyes. "Well I'm not sorry. I think that we have to
come up with a solution and we can, if *you* stop
feeling *sorry* and start acting like the William
Riker that I know is in there somewhere."
Riker downed the contents of his glass in one
gulp and sucked in a breath of fire.
"How much does the Captain know?" Deanna spoke
again.
"The part about my grandfather." Will frowned.
"Not all of it. He did some of his own research
before I took first officer on this ship. I guess he
managed to put a few things together. He knows about
Robert Riker. You know the rest."
"But your grandfather wasn't there when it
happened. So the Captain knows only half the story."
Deanna looked away, then back again. She moved
forward and sank back into her chair. "I think we
should keep it that way, for now."
"You think the Captain would ... ?" Will
looked up in surprise.
"No." Deanna shook her head. "And that's the
problem. The Captain cares a great deal for you,
Will. To the point where he worries about your
future at times, almost like a father. I've already
betrayed his confidence by telling you that much, but
my point is that your career and my career are one
thing. His career is another. We leave it with us,
for now."
"Shit." Riker placed his head in his hand and
sighed. "If I could go back in time and do that
moment over again."
"You'd kill him again." Deanna's level voice
caused him to glance up. He stared at her and she
at him. "And now there's someone out there who wants
to kill you."
"You really think the two are related? That
this is personal?" Riker leaned forward across the
table.
"I think the evidence points in that
direction."
"But why take out a whole moon .. a whole
planet ... just to get to me? I don't know anybody
who hates me that much." His lip curled. "Except
maybe one or two men on Risa whose wives-" Deanna
hit him in the arm. Hard. "Ow!" He smirked.
"Think about it, Will." Her dark eyes flashed.
"Spend some time considering if there's anyone out
there who might have had the means or the desire to
kill you on that moon. I sense no hostility directed
toward you on this ship, and believe me, I've tried -
- but someone tampered with your hazard-suit, and
someone restarted the barion sweep while we were down
there."
"I just-" Riker lifted his hands and let them
fall, "I don't know."
"You don't know of anyone who hates the people
of Cerrus almost as much as the Federation, and only
slightly less than you?" Deanna pressed on,
undaunted.
Riker's palm opened and shut while he took in
her words; until he saw the question in her eyes as
clearly as he knew the answer in his head.
"Holy mother of God," he finally whispered.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 102
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Grant that I may always desire more than I can
accomplish."
--Michelangelo
--------------------
Riker paced back and forth in his cabin. Ever
since he'd left ten forward -- with Deanna -- the two
of them had been engaged in a conversation that
seemed to have no end. He'd throw out an alternative
and she'd bring up a reason why it wouldn't ... or
couldn't ... work. He'd counter that reason and
she'd stare at him until he realized he was being
illogical about the situation. Damned Vulcan she
could be, sometimes.
"Okay." He threw his hands up in the air. "So
I was wrong about who I thought it might be. That
doesn't mean I'm wrong that it could be someone who's
not even on this ship anymore."
"No, it doesn't. But if you were going to set
someone up, and you'd planned it all in advance,
right down to your presence on board this ship --
would you leave immediately afterwards?" She threw
him a sharp look.
"That would be suspicious as hell." He agreed.
"I just can't think of anyone *on board* who'd do
something like this!"
"Neither can I." Deanna sighed and rounded his
coffee table.
"Maybe we should wait." He paused mid-step and
turned to face her. "We're taking on twenty seven
new officers and fourteen civilians next week. There
are any number of off-transfers scheduled as well.
Where is the next crew rotation, again?"
She furrowed her brow for a moment, then
nodded. "Zetli station."
Riker cocked his head and grinned. "Isn't that
the planet with the naked blue dancers?"
"Mind on the present, Will.." Deanna waved her
hand in front of his face from a distance.
"It is." He winked at her and she rolled her
eyes.
"Okay." Riker laughed. "I'm kidding, all
right? I'm just -- tense. And we've been at this
for hours. What time is it?"
"2330" Deanna came up behind him and brushed
her hand up and down along his back. "You are
tense."
"God that feels good." He groaned; shutting
his eyes when she kneaded into the muscle of his
shoulder.
"Come here, you're too tall." She lead him to
the couch and sat them both down, continuing her
attention on his other shoulder. Riker's head fell
forward and he sighed. They were quiet for a time,
before he chuckled softly.
"What?" Deanna tipped her body from behind him
and glanced at his expression.
"I was just thinking about what you said
earlier." He looked down into a pair of endless dark
eyes. "That I'm too tall. When we first met, I used
to think that you were so small ... if we were ever
together, I might break you."
She laughed. "And when I didn't shatter into a
million pieces?"
"I knew it was love."
"Right!" She shoved against his back and he
cringed. "That really hurt you, didn't it?" her
expression melted into concern.
"Nah." He shrugged. Her eyebrow rose. "Okay,
maybe a little. But it's just been a crazy few days.
I think I'm one great big knot waiting to explode."
"Why didn't you say anything?" Deanna's touch
on his back moved lower and it felt so incredible he
nearly groaned with relief.
"No time to think about it, I guess." His
offered her a lop-sided smirk. "Besides, I'm not
used to having anybody around who'd care. As close
as Mr. Data and I are..."
Deanna poked him again, this time gently.
"Well, now you do have someone around who cares." She
met his eyes and he grinned.
"You only want me for my body.."
Deanna exhaled loudly. "Busted."
"You know I couldn't do this without you."
Riker interjected, suddenly serious as he turned
toward her. "Any of it."
"You don't have to." She leaned forward,
dusting her lips across his.
He held her long after she'd spoken and their
kisses grew less and less playful. "Deanna," his
heated whisper caressed her skin.
"Yes," she opened her eyes slowly.
"I think I'm scared." His blue eyes searched
her expression. Their faces were barely a moment
apart. "I mean, not for my life, or the
investigation, but ... what if there really is
someone out there ... what if instead of going after
me, they decide they could hurt me more if they-"
"Shh." She took his face in her hands and
pressed her lips to his. "We won't let that happen."
"I didn't exactly set up to go down on that
moon with a broken hazard suit, either." He whispered
in her ear when she pulled him closer. "Whoever it
is, has access to systems we don't even know about
right now."
"You're right." She drew away from him and he
regarded her curiously. "We've been at this too
long." Rising from the couch, she took his hand and
pulled him with her. "Come with me. Lets work on
one problem at a time."
"What problem is that?"
"The one that has you all tied up in knots."
Deanna coaxed him forward, moving backward herself
through the suite until they entered a smaller room.
The lights were dim when she called for the computer
to fill the bathtub with water.
"You want me to take a bath?" He grinned.
"It'll help." She was tugging on the collar of
his uniform jacket before he had time to formulate a
response. Even more quickly than he'd imagined, she'd
divested him of his shirt as well.
"Will you join me?" He pulled her toward him,
sealing their bodies in an intimate embrace while her
hands played idly with the hair at the top of his
chest.
Deanna looked up at him. Obsidian eyes seemed
to shine in the light of the room before she kissed
him full on the lips. "No," she whispered. "You
need to relax."
"We can do that together." He kissed her back.
Slipping his hands below the neckline of her gray
uniform top, he flicked the clasp and drew the
fastener down her back.
Deanna shoved him playfully against the wall
and proceeded to help him off with the rest of his
tardy uniform. "No arguments, Commander." She
sidestepped his next advance, ignoring his feeble
protest as she led him toward the steaming water.
"In," she smiled coyly.
"You're ruthless." He whined.
"I know."
Complying with her orders, Riker slid carefully
into the hot water. He had to admit, it did feel
pretty incredible. But it would have felt a hell of
a lot more incredible if she were with him.
Satisfied with his obedience, Deanna moved
around the other side of the tub and gathered a few
articles from a nearby shelf. She turned her back
for only a moment, but it was to be a fatal error in
judgment. Without warning, Riker's hand hooked her
waist and he pulled her backward into the oversized
basin.
With a moderate splash, she landed next to him
in the water. Flipping a tangle of loose hair aside,
she turned a wry glance in his direction. His smile
widened. Somehow, he'd been expecting a more ...
vocal response.
"You are an incorrigible child." She scolded
him on cue, but she was almost smiling when she
lifted the soaking bits of her uniform from her body
and slid them off, dropping them outside the water.
"I know." He beamed.
Deanna turned and straddled his waist, wrapping
her arms around his neck. She leaned forward and
smiled against his lips. "Now you're going to
relax?"
"Much better." His expression sobered. Before
she was able to answer, his mouth sealed over hers.
The kiss was long and sweet and they emerged from it
dripping and breathless. Deanna pulled wet hands
through his hair. Their eyes locked and her skin
moved against him.
"Much better," she echoed him softly. The
sound of her voice transformed into a gasp as their
bodies took over where nearly a week of wanting left
off.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 103
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"When you break rules, break 'em good and hard."
--Terry Pratchett
--------------------
"Before I dismiss you all, it's my duty to inform you that the Enterprise has been recalled to Earth." Captain Picard's expressionless gaze settled on each of his officers in turn, but remained with Commander Riker.
--o--
Riker sat in the darkness of his cabin, watching Deanna sleep. Her body lay curled on one side of their bed. Her hands dusted the surface of a pillow, where a mass of dark curls spilled languorously from beneath her head.
--o--
"Our presence is required for an investigation
regarding the incident on Cerrus' third moon." The
Captain's gaze remained impassive and a hush fell
over the observation lounge. "We are to rendez-vous
with the Legacy, the Normandy and the Paragon. We
will then proceed to sector 0-0-1 immediately."
Riker finally cleared his throat. "Does
Starfleet have any idea who might have been behind
the attacks?"
--o--
She looked so innocent in the starlight.
Almost like a child and yet he knew that wasn't so.
There was something about her features in restful
repose; something pure and perfect that he knew in an
instant would never change, no matter the passage of
time.
Lifting himself from the chair, he moved toward
her; placed his hand against the edge of her hair and
brushed it gently backward. She was exhausted, as
tired as he was at the very least -- he knew his
touch wouldn't wake her.
--o--
"Not as yet, number one." Picard frowned.
"They do, however, have some form of evidence which
has caused them to issue the recall. I imagine we'll
find out when we arrive."
"We were scheduled for a crew transfer on Zetli
station in less than a week, sir." Deanna Troi sat
forward in her chair.
--o--
Allowing himself a quiet exhale, Riker pressed
his lips to her temple and closed his eyes, breathing
in the reality of her for as long as he could allow
himself the luxury -- before righting his posture.
He turned from the bed and moved to a nearby window.
There was magic in the vacuum of space.
Purpose, for a young man determined to forge a career
worthy of wiping out another man's past. He placed
his hand against the glass and smiled ironically.
--o--
"There will be no alterations of personnel in
either Starfleet or civilian compliment until a
conclusion from JAG has been arrived at." The
Captain sighed. "Counselor, you should inform the
crew and families on board that we regret the
inconvenience, however it is out of our hands."
"Yes sir." Deanna nodded slowly but her hand
gripped Will's beneath the table.
--o--
After images of his childhood flashed intermittently through his mind until he closed his eyes; willing them away. Kyle would never have understood. Not after he'd left with all the self- righteous glory of a fifteen year old kid. What the hell did he know back then, anyway? Who he was? What he wanted to be? It all seemed so clear...
--o--
"I realize this will be a trying scenario for us all." Picard lifted his gaze and regarded the room with new confidence. "Please remember that we are not on trial here. The JAG office merely wishes to determine how several key security protocols on this ship and two of the others were tampered with. Some of you may be questioned, some of the officers under your command may be questioned, but in the end we are all witnesses to a crime which remains to be solved. Keep that in mind."
--o--
"Will?" Deanna's voice carried over to him,
soft and heavy with sleep. His thoughts had done
what his touch could not. She was awake. "Where
are you?"
Riker saw the crooked smile on his reflection
in the window. He knew she wasn't asking
geographically. She could see him from the bed. He
turned and looked at her.
"A million miles away." His shoulders rose and
fell and his eyes drank in the way her hair wasn't
sitting exactly as it should. She slid over and sat
up, patting the spot next to her. What the hell.
He moved toward her and sat down, stretching his arm
so that she'd move closer; so that she'd touch him
physically the way she already had with her thoughts.
So that she'd do whatever it was she always did that
made his life spin a little less out of control.
When Deanna's body slid agreeably into the crook of
his arm, Riker pulled her against him.
"I'm sorry I woke you."
"It's okay." She laid her head on his
shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"
"Ancient history." He smiled and felt her nod.
"It'll be nice to see Earth again."
"Yeah."
"Maybe you can show me where you grew up." Her
arms tightened around him.
"Maybe." He closed his eyes and brushed his
lips across her hair. "After."
"You'll have to keep me warm, though." She
tipped her head and grinned impishly. "I freeze
easily."
"You know there's this lake, near the cabin
where I was born ... the water's so blue, it's
like... like..." he shook his head.
"Your eyes, probably." She glanced up at him
... until he felt self conscious as hell and shrugged
uncomfortably.
"Nothing special about my eyes." Riker
laughed. "Now *your* eyes, on the other hand-"
"When I met you," she cut him off, "I think I
loved your eyes first. They're so blue." She sighed
sleepily and cuddled against him. "I'd never seen
anyone with eyes so blue."
"Really?" She hadn't? Okay, so maybe this was
a little bit interesting. He drew his fingers
lightly through her thick, dark hair.
"Mm mm." Deanna smiled against his shoulder.
"So all that time when you told me you weren't
attracted to me..." Riker watched her tilt her head
and saw the slight rise and fall of her shoulders.
"I lied." She wrinkled her nose endearingly.
"I knew it!" He laughed. "All those lectures
on how Betazoids don't lie.. never lie.."
"Well it's true. I'm half human," she
muttered sullenly, still warm in his embrace. "I
can't help it if I'm fatally flawed. And if you were
Betazoid-"
"I looks like I am, a little." He reminded
her.
"Yes, and if I'd know that, I'd probably never
have tried lying to you, either. But I was..." Her
voice trailed off into a quiet exhale.
"Experimenting?" Riker provided.
"Exactly." Her eyes lit with amusement. "And
you did say you'd be a willing guinea pig, as I
recall ... lieutenant." She kissed his neck so
sensually that Riker leaned toward her and nearly
turned them both over.
"I did say that," he whispered needfully
instead. Cupping one hand against the side of her
face, Riker bent forward and kissed her parted lips.
When they separated, he looked down at her for an
interminable moment. A perfect moment. One where he
was content simply to watch the play of starlight in
her eyes. "I always wanted to show you that lake."
"Then you will."
"Maybe."
"You will." Her answering smile was
accompanied by a deliberately projected sense of
affection along their bond. He sent her something
stronger in return, watching her eyes widen.
"If I promise to keep you warm." Riker spoke
before she could.
"Do you?" Deanna pulled him down on top of
her, running her fingers over the definition of his
chest. She finally hooked her hands around his neck,
staring up at him expectantly.
"Yes."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 104
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"There is an art or, rather, a knack to flying.
The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at
the ground and miss."
--Douglas Adams
--------------------
William Riker's smile was genuine as the senior
staff of the Enterprise materialized in the quad-
garden pathway of Starfleet's San Francisco
Headquarters. It was a beautiful spring morning; the
day was crisp and the sky was blue. Row upon row of
elegant flora adorned an immaculately sculpted maze
of trails emerging from numerous buildings in the
compound structure.
The Academy complex loomed in majesty to their
right. Vast and sprawling, it occupied no less than
a third of the real-estate taken over by Fleet
headquarters. None of the officers missed an
opportunity to glance at it, at least in passing, for
the permanent and often shared memories their
training in those very halls had engendered. Riker
took in a grateful gulp of air before letting it out
on a sigh.
"Good to be home." Deanna squeezed his hand.
Her tone of voice was vague enough so that he wasn't
sure whether she was asking a question or making a
statement herself. She had been trained here just as
the rest of them had.
"That it is." He opted to agree, affording her
a knowing glance.
"Man, I didn't realize how much I missed this
place." Geordi LaForge turned in a small circle,
examining their surroundings. "It's like I never
left."
"In a way," Picard nodded, "perhaps we never
did."
"A little nostalgia, Captain?" Doctor Crusher
smiled.
"I have discovered that, among most sentient
species, the return to origin is often a joyful
occasion."
"It is, Data." Crusher approved. "We spend so
much of our lives up there," she indicated the sky,
"that every now and then, it's nice to remember what
it's all about."
"I am curious, Counselor," Data turned to Troi
and cocked his head. "Apart from myself, you are the
only individual in this group who does not originate
from Earth. What is it like for you `to be back'?"
"Well," Deanna smiled thoughtfully, "I spent
several years here in Starfleet Academy. And it's
difficult not to love this planet."
"Perhaps that is because you are half human?"
the android interjected.
"I suppose that might be true, but I don't
think that's entirely the reason." Troi shrugged.
"I think I look at Earth like a second home because
of the Enterprise." She smiled frankly.
"Hm." Data inclined his head. "Most
intriguing."
Riker moved up behind Deanna and pulled her
gently against him, although the gesture would have
appeared imperceptible to any passer-by, nothing more
than a friendly stance. They were in uniform, after
all.
"Well," The captain smiled, "I think it's time
we made our way to command headquarters. Commander
Riker and I have a meeting with Admiral Wilson in
less than an hour, and the rest of you are to remain
available until a schedule has been set forth for our
part in the investigation."
"Do you think they'll see us all at once?"
Crusher asked.
"More likely under private circumstances,
Doctor." Picard nodded. "They'll want to hear what
we have to say individually, first."
"What about the other ships?" LaForge glanced
at the primary Academy building. "The Normandy and
the Paragon were both missing equipment, and one of
the hazard suits on the Paragon was tampered with as
well."
"No doubt their officers will also be
questioned. I would advise that we keep our own
speculation, beyond the scope of the Enterprise, to a
minimum."
"Yes sir." Geordi sighed. "I just wish they'd
tell us whether they knew who did this."
"As do I." Picard afforded Riker a glance and
waited for the other man's nod.
Before the two of them could leave the group en
route to the command complex, Riker turned for an
instant and caught Deanna's expression. His sense of
her was filled with reassurance and he smiled warmly
in return. Then, with little more than an added nod,
he and Picard turned onto the pathway and walked in a
different direction.
Deanna stood back with the others, watching
them leave.
"You know its amazing to watch the two of you
now," Beverly Crusher placed her hand on her friend's
arm. "You've always shared these looks, but now its
as though you're having whole conversations in
seconds." She smiled. "Sometimes I envy you."
Deanna looked up in surprise and Beverly shrugged.
"Sharing that kind of closeness with someone. Jack
and I were like that. I guess I still miss it."
--o--
Entrance to the command complex was little more
than a security stop and a call for special
clearance. Riker looked around for a brief instant
as they walked inside the giant structure and nearly
whistled at the enormity of it all. It had been
quite a few years since he'd been down here, and even
then, it was never for anything like this. The JAG
offices were on the seventeenth level.
Picard said very little as they made their way
through the building. He was thinking about
something, and Riker knew better than to interrupt
him. Besides, it was a companionable silence, and
there wasn't much either of them would have wanted to
make conversation about, even if they'd been able.
When the double doors to the massive advocate
general's office finally parted before them, Riker
stopped in his tracks. He stopped because Picard had
stopped.
"Sir?" Will stepped forward. "is everything-
?"
"Oh, fine. Number one, fine." Picard nodded
slowly. "It's just a memory." Turning toward his
first officer, the captain smiled wanly, "and not a
very good one, I'm afraid. The last time I was in
these offices, I lost a damn good officer to
protocol."
"Well sir, we're not the ones on trial here
this time, like you said."
"True." Picard exhaled quietly, "it's just a
memory."
"Will? Will Riker?" A voice behind them
suddenly interrupted and both officers turned.
"Will! It is you!"
"K-Katie?" Riker's breath caught in his throat.
Picard watched in stunned amazement as a female
command officer with three pips on her collar
launched herself across the short distance from the
doorway and landed in Will Riker's arms.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 105
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Don't turn away from possible futures before you're
certain you don't have anything to learn from them.
You're free to change your mind and choose a
different future, or a different past."
--Richard Bach
--------------------
"Deanna?" Beverly Crusher waved her hand in
front of the Counselor's eyes. "Crusher to Troi ...
is anyone home?"
"What?" Deanna turned her head and regarded
her friend as though she'd just realized her presence
for the first time.
The doctor crossed her arms over her chest.
"Okay, Counselor. Where were you?"
"Nowhere." Troi shook her head. Her gaze
traveled to one of the other quad pathways where
Geordi and Data were having an animated discussion.
"It doesn't matter."
"Your face is white, Deanna." Crusher's eyes
narrowed. "Your heart rate just jumped about a light
year and I don't even need a tricorder to see that
something's not right."
"I'm okay." Deanna put forth her best
imitation of a smile. "Really."
"Is something wrong with Will?"
"No." Troi's eyes widened. "He's fine." She
turned her head toward the command complex and stared
at the enormous building. "He's fine..." she
repeated softly.
--o--
Riker's senses were reeling. The woman in his
arms hugged him again and he found himself hugging
her back.
"Will, oh my god!" she laughed.
"Katie, when did you get here?" Pulling away
from their clinch, Riker glanced at his Captain and
realized belatedly that the scenario must have been
quite a spectacle. He grinned self-consciously and
stepped backward. "Katie Flynn, this is my
commanding officer, Captain Jean-Luc Picard.
Captain, this is..." he traded a glance between them
and his eyes dusted over Katie's collar, "Commander
Katie Flynn. An ... old friend of mine."
"A pleasure Commander." Picard extended his
hand.
"The pleasure is mine sir." Katie took the
offered hand and shook it firmly, then glanced at
Riker, belaying his next question. "I'm here with
the Paragon, I'm her first officer."
"Indeed?" Picard smiled warmly. "Then I
imagine we're all here for the same reason."
"I imagine so, sir." Riker was still staring
at Flynn when she shook her head with a rueful smile.
"God, Will, it's been forever. You look incredible
... the beard! I like it."
"Thanks," he smiled back. "You look pretty
great yourself. I guess it has been a few years."
"A few?" Katie laughed.
She looked just the same as he remembered ...
only more mature. Still the same wide green eyes
that shone when she laughed, the same long dark hair,
except that it was cropped now just below her
shoulder; straight as a board. If anything, the
years had made her even more beautiful. And she
seemed to have an air confidence now that she hadn't
when he'd first known her.
"Has Captain Leesom been by, then?" Picard's
voice interrupted their reunion and once again, Riker
cringed inwardly at having lost track of company.
"Yes sir." Katie turned first. "Admiral
Wilson wants to see each Captain alone, apparently.
I think they only ordered us down here so that we'd
have to stand in the hall and feel helpless." She
grinned at Riker. "Word is, the JAG office isn't
going to be speaking to the rest of the command staff
until tomorrow."
"I see." Picard frowned slightly.
"Captain Picard?" A young man entered the
reception area and glanced around.
"Yes?"
"Admiral Wilson will see you now, sir. He's
asked that your first officer remain in chairs,
they'll be speaking with the rest of your crew in the
morning."
After trading a glance between Flynn and Riker,
Picard nodded solemnly. "Well then," his gaze fell
on Will, "you're certainly free to go, Commander. I,
for one, wouldn't want to know that you were standing
out here feeling helpless."
Riker laughed. "Yes sir."
As Picard made his way toward the Admiral's
office door, Captain Leesom emerged slowly. His head
was bowed in thought and he lifted it for a
perfunctory greeting when Picard walked by. The two
exchanged only a very brief encounter, before they
parted company and Leesom continued his journey down
the hall. By the time he'd made it to reception, the
older Captain's expression had transformed into an
ironic half-smile.
"Commander," he addressed Flynn directly.
"That meeting was about as useful as a phaser stun."
"I'm sure we'll find out more tomorrow, sir."
Katie nodded amicably.
"Probably." His gaze settled on Riker.
"Commander ... Riker, isn't it? Of the Enterprise?"
"Yes sir." Riker smiled. "It's good to meet
you Captain."
"Yes, I've heard a lot about you. Starfleet's
golden boy," Leesom shook Will's outstretched hand
but there wasn't a hint of avarice in the older man's
voice when he spoke, merely camaraderie. "They
offered you my ship, didn't they? The Paragon, about
two years ago before I took command of her ... "
Riker shrugged light-heartedly and grinned.
"With all due respect sir, she wasn't the
Enterprise."
"Ha!" Leesom laughed. "That's something else
they've said about you! Well, she's a fine ship in
her own right ... she's got a fine crew."
"Yes sir." Will nodded. "No disrespect
intended."
"None taken, Commander. We all have to live
our lives and careers according to our own rules."
The Captain turned and glanced at Flynn. "Katie?
Shall we head out and give the others the bad news?"
"If you don't mind sir," she smiled.
"Commander Riker and I are old friends. I haven't
seen him in years, I thought we might catch up a
little before ... "
"Oh. Of course." The older man nodded. "Take
your time." He looked at Will. "It was a pleasure to
meet you, Riker."
"And you, sir."
With one final tip of the head, Leesom stepped
outside the JAG offices, leaving Riker and Flynn
standing somewhat awkwardly together.
"Katie-"
"Will-"
They laughed when they spoke at the same time.
"I guess some things still haven't changed,"
Katie sighed.
"You go first." Will conceded.
"Can we ... go somewhere? Sit down maybe?
Have a drink? This place ... gives me the creeps."
Flynn glanced around the enormous office, still
humming with activity.
"Yeah. Sure." The others wouldn't be
expecting him back with the Captain for at least a
couple of hours. And Deanna ... Deanna would
probably be off somewhere with Beverly by now.
"Where would you like to go?" he asked.
She grinned impishly. "Where do you think?"
her green eyes flashed and Riker's smile widened.
"You got it."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 106
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Great spirits have always encountered violent
opposition from mediocre minds."
--Albert Einstein
--------------------
Riker yawned expansively and set his drink on
the table. "Oh, jeez, I'm sorry. I think I need to
wake up."
He and Katie had walked together through the
expansive grounds of Starfleet Academy's inner-quad
before finding the Venus Lounge. Located in in one
of the more intimate corners of the officers section,
it hadn't changed all that much in almost twenty
years.
"What time is it for you?" Flynn chuckled and
leaned forward across their table.
"On the Enterprise? About 0300."
"It's a little closer to evening for us on the
Paragon."
"I guess I just haven't had much sleep the past
couple of nights." His eyes settled on her and she
nodded.
"You neither, huh?"
"Katie," Riker's expression sobered. "I had
no idea you were on the Paragon. When did-?"
"About two years ago. Right after Captain
Leesom came on board. He requested me specifically.
We'd served together before on the Yosemite, but this
is my first gig as an XO." Her eyes lit with pride.
"Well I'm sure you deserve it, Kit-" Riker
caught himself. "Katie."
"It's okay." She threw him a crooked smile.
"Since I saw you up in that JAG office, I keep
forgetting that I'm not fifteen anymore, too." Her
eyes examined the table. "Pretty incredible how time
flies."
"Yeah." Riker stared into his drink, tipping
it absently and watching as the fluid licked the
edges of the glass.
"I heard you saved the day for Cerrus on that
moon." Her quiet voice interrupted his momentary
thought. "You know I volunteered for that mission.
But you were certainly better qualified."
"I had a lot of help." Riker's gaze lifted.
"Things didn't exactly go as planned down there."
"I heard that too. They restarted the barion
sweep ahead of schedule. One of our hazard suits on
the Paragon was also broken into." Her wide green
eyes settled on him. "Listen, do you think-"
"I'm trying really hard not to, Kit."
"Okay." She nodded. "But when I heard it was
you, I couldn't help wondering if maybe Robert-"
"He's dead." Riker took a swig of his drink
and downed it.
"I know that." She reached for his hand and
took it in hers. Something about the gesture was so
familiar and so compelling that Riker had to look at
her. He found her staring back with an equally
familiar expression.
"Katie." he extricated his hand gently. "I'm
married." Why the hell were those two words so damn
hard to say?
"Oh" her beautiful eyes widened, "oh," she
repeated, and she exhaled quickly, glancing away.
"Wow."
"Surprised?"
"Yeah, a little." Flynn's shoulders rose and
fell. "I uh, followed your service record for a few
years. And the gossip.."
"Gossip's usually overstated." He threw her a
rueful smile.
She nodded. "Most of what I heard was first
hand."
"Oh." He dropped his gaze.
"So ... when? Who is she?"
"She's um," Riker shook his head and smiled,
"our ship's Counselor on board the Enterprise."
Flynn smiled, but it was as forced a smile as
he had ever seen from her. "You know, I never took
you for the counseling type. All that introspection,
looking inside yourself..."
Riker chuckled. Katie still had him pegged,
that was for sure. "We actually met ... on Betazed,
a long time ago."
Flynn raised an eyebrow. "She's Betazoid?"
"Half." He nodded. "Half human. Why?"
"No reason, just trying to get a picture,
that's all."
"I have one, if you'd like to see it." He
shrugged and she seemed to consider for a moment
before nodding. Riker reached inside his uniform
pocket and pulled out a small holo that he switched
on for her. It was of Deanna, about three years
after they'd come on board the Enterprise ... well
before they'd rekindled their romance, but it was
still one of his favorite shots. She was on the
holodeck, sitting on a swing, moderately annoyed with
him for taking the image, but the light in her eyes
betrayed her even so.
"Wow." Katie stared at the three dimensional
hologram. "She's beautiful."
"Yeah." Will smiled.
"She looks one of those silent, brilliant
types." Flynn grinned lopsidedly.
"Well, I don't know about the silent part."
Riker laughed.
"Congratulations." Katie cut in quickly; too
quickly.
"Katie-"
"Hey, you were sixteen years old Will." Flynn
shrugged. "No one expected you to keep a juvenile
pact. We all move on with our lives, right?"
"Then why do I get the feeling you haven't?"
He watched her expression shift.
"I've been with a lot of men since I was
fifteen years old, Riker."
"That's not what I meant." Riker reached
across the table and grabbed her hand this time.
"You know that just because things aren't the way
they were when we were kids ... that doesn't mean I
don't care about you. What happens to you. We were
both too young back then to know what we were doing-"
"You knew." Katie's eyes filled with tears.
"You were never that young." She swiped at the
moisture in frustration. "You took care of me. And
I'll always be grateful to you for..."
"Hey," Riker stood and pulled her from her
chair into his arms. "Hey, it's okay. Shh."
"You know," Katie composed herself against
him. "I haven't cried about this since ... since I
can't even remember." Pulling herself backward, she
cleared her throat.
"I know." Will let her sit back down and made
his way to his own chair. "I guess that's part of
the reason I thought it'd be better if I didn't
contact you. Let you forget about all of it ... get
on with your life."
"Does she know?"
"What?"
"Your wife. Does she know?"
When Riker stared at her for longer than he
should have, Katie shoved her drink across the table
and stood harshly. "How could you!"
"Wait a second!" He stood and raised his hands
defensively.
"How could you tell anyone? You swore!"
"I didn't... Katie..." His eyes found hers
and he looked at her as though he could will her to
believe what he was saying. "I had to tell her some
of it. Damn it! She's my wife! She knows what's
going to happen with this JAG investigation, I think
you and I both know that's true. But she doesn't
know all of it. I made a promise to you, and I
intend to keep that promise."
When Flynn turned away and exhaled loudly,
Riker knew that he had won at least a portion of the
argument. He swallowed his relief. "Katie, she's a
Counselor..." he began again.
"No."
"A damn good Counselor, Katie, maybe she could-
"
"No!" A pair of dark green eyes pinned him
furiously.
"I just thought that-"
"What? That maybe she and I could have dinner
together? Have a little chat about my misspent
youth? Maybe I could talk to my ex-lover's *wife*
about the kind of things I can't even bring myself to
think about when I'm conscious during the day?"
Katie lifted her glass and raised it high in the air,
spilling half of it on the table before glaring at
Riker. "Hell yeah! Why don't the three of us get
together Will? Doesn't that sound like fun? We can
talk about that night on Cerrus, you know the one...
the one with-"
"That's enough!" Riker leaned forward in his
chair, hands fisted on both sides of his body.
"Katie, you don't want to do this... fine. But I'm
not lying to her."
"Fine." Flynn shoved her chair backward and
stood. "What the hell does a promise mean to you,
anyway Riker. What the hell did it ever mean."
"Katie!" he rose from the table and called
after her. "Wait!"
"Go fuck yourself Riker!" she rounded on him.
"Or wait, no.. maybe you can ask your pretty wife.
I'm sure she'd be happy to help ... while you're
telling her all MY secrets!"
Without another word, Commander Flynn stalked
from the Venus Lounge, uncaring of the officers who
stared after her, unwilling to see the look on
Riker's face before she was gone.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 107
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"We should all be obliged to appear before a board
every five years, and justify our existence ... on
pain of liquidation."
--George Bernard Shaw
--------------------
Riker moved through the quad-complex like a man
on a mission. Which is exactly what he was. He was
going to find Katie. She couldn't have gotten very
far in the minute or two since she'd stormed from the
Venus lounge.
The immaculate gardens were filled with
wandering personnel, and Riker found himself scanning
each of them, looking for her face. The day was
bright, and she would be moving quickly, if he knew
her at all. He narrowed his field of search to the
larger pathways, until he felt a stab of fear scream
through his body at warp speed.
--o--
"Listen, how about we grab something to eat?
They probably won't be back for at least another hour
or so.." Beverly Crusher smiled at her friend. "And
I have a feeling Geordi and Data aren't going to be a
whole lot of fun now that they're into warp
mechanics-- Deanna?"
Deanna turned her head, only partially aware of
Beverly's conversation. Her eyes narrowed and she
scanned the quad suspiciously.
"Deanna? What is it?" Crusher came up beside
her.
"I'm not sure. I'm sensing anger. A horrible
rage. It's directed at..." her voice trailed off
and she spun around, eyes wide.
--o--
Deanna!
Riker spun around, hearing the sound of her
voice echo at an almost unbearable level in his mind.
:::Will! Get down! Now! On the ground!:::
Without thinking, Riker hit the dirt of the
quad, landing on the thorns of a vicious rosebush --
but that was the least of his worries. A millimetre
from where he'd just been standing, the hot sting of
a phaser blast crackled through the air. He could
almost feel it singe the hair off his arm right
through his uniform jacket. Rolling under the dense
foliage near the path, Riker dodged one further blast
before the quad erupted in a barrage of Starfleet
security and racing officers.
When several seconds passed without further
incident, Riker hopped to his feet and gingerly
brushed at his bleeding hands. A number of thorns
from the bush that had saved his life were still
embedded in the flesh of his palm.
Data, Geordi, Beverly and Deanna were at his
side in a matter of instants, followed by a small
team of security personnel.
"Commander, are you all right?" LaForge
reached him first.
"Yeah." He shook his head as though it needed
clearing, then glanced up and saw the rest of them.
"Thanks to Deanna." Troi launched herself into his
arms, heedless of the crowd that had gathered.
Bringing his arms up automatically, he cringed
when the bite of the cut on his palm proclaimed
itself loudly. She pulled away. "You're hurt."
"It's just a cut." Riker glanced behind him at
the garden. "Those damn roses," he offered her a
crooked smile. She hugged him again, more carefully
this time.
"Deanna, how did you know?" Beverly pulled a
small oval object from her coat pocket and lifted
Riker's hand into her own. She ran the device over
his injury until the skin sealed with new pink flesh
again.
"I didn't. Not until I saw Will. There was so
much hatred, and suddenly it was centered right on
him. I looked to see where it was coming from, and
there was someone in a white bio-suit raising their
arm."
"Hatred?" Preoccupied with this latest
information, Riker let Deanna examine his hand as
though she were concerned that Beverly had missed a
spot.
"Commander," Data returned from conferring
with a security officer. "There was a transport
signature, precisely one-point-four seconds after the
last shot was fired. Security has been unable to
trace its origin or destination, but several
witnesses corroborate that the user was wearing a
Starfleet issue bio-suit. That would effectively
camouflage both appearance and gender." The android
nodded. "I believe we may now put to rest the issue
of whether or not the incident on Cerrus' third moon
was a coincidence." All eyes turned toward Data as
he spoke. "It appears that someone is trying to end
Commander Riker's life."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 108
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Bravery is the capacity to perform properly even
when scared half to death."
--Omar Bradley
--------------------
"Will!" A woman's voice called out from behind
the Enterprise crew. Jogging toward them from a
nearby pathway, she stood directly in front of Riker
and placed her hand on his upper shoulder with
intimate familiarity. "Are you okay? What the hell
just happened? I saw someone firing an energy
weapon..."
"Katie." Riker exhaled, turning to assuage the
startled looks of his colleagues.
Katie Flynn suddenly paused and backed away
from him, as though she hadn't realized there were
others in the picture.
"This is Commander Flynn of the Paragon." Will
gestured to his team. "Katie Flynn, this is Doctor
Beverly Crusher, Lieutenant Commanders Data and
Geordi LaForge, and ... Counselor Deanna Troi."
Katie glanced at each of them in turn, eyes
widening at the sight of Troi. "I -- Pleased to meet
you all." She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. Will and
I are old friends. We'd been talking earlier ... I
didn't realize."
Deanna threw Will a look which he carefully
avoided.
"It's nice to meet you, Commander Flynn."
Beverly smiled warmly. "Can I call you Katie?"
"Sure." Katie grinned. "If I can call you
doc. I call all my doctor friends doc."
"Funny." Crusher threw Riker a meaningful
glance. "So does Will."
"Great.... well, now that we've all been
introduced." Riker cleared his throat, still
studiously avoiding the eyes he knew were on him.
"He's going to live." Beverly offered Katie a
new smile. "It takes a lot more than a type three
energy weapon to take down our Mr. Riker here."
"How did you say you two met?" Deanna's
musical voice chimed in. Flynn glanced up and tipped
her head, beaming at the counselor.
"We ... grew up together. I guess you could
say. Right Will?"
"Yeah. I guess that's true."
"Oh? That sounds interesting." Deanna
returned. She and Katie exchanged eye contact for
several seconds.
"It is, actually. Very interesting." Flynn's
green eyes flashed. "Perhaps you'll hear the whole
story sometime.."
"I'll look forward to it." Troi smiled back.
Riker coughed loudly. "I think we should get
in touch with the Captain. Let him know what
happened. Mr. Data," he turned and found a brief
respite in the amber eyes of his junior officer.
"Captain Picard is with Admiral Wilson on the
seventeenth floor of the JAG offices. Find out
whatever you can from the security team when they
finish up here, then go and wait for the Captain in
chairs. Let him know what happened and tell him that
we'll all be in quarters later this evening if he
wants to call a meeting."
"Yes sir." Data inclined his head.
"Geordi, you and the doctor can head back now
if you'd like. I have some things I'd like to
discuss with Deanna."
"Just try to stay out of the rosebushes this
time, Commander?" Crusher smirked.
"Sure thing, doc." Riker cringed as soon as
he'd opened his mouth. He had to say it. Watching
the retreating forms of LaForge, Data and the doctor,
he finally turned.
"Commander Flynn," Deanna smiled amicably,
"would you join us for lunch?"
"Oh, I can't." Katie shrugged apologetically.
"I have to get back. Captain Leesom will be
expecting me. We've got a senior staff meeting in
less than an hour. Thank you though," her eyes met
with Troi's. "for the invitation."
"Katie," Riker called after her just as she
turned. "We'll talk later?"
Flynn threw a dazzling smile over her shoulder.
It was just a little too dazzling, and Riker got the
point in spades. "I'm in complex three-C. Just ...
call me." Her hair flipped back over her shoulder,
and she was gone.
"So." Deanna spoke first. They began walking
along the sunlit garden pathway, but Riker's thoughts
were anywhere other than on the weather.
"So?" Riker asked back, suddenly annoyed with
her for even being there -- though he couldn't
pinpoint exactly why.
"All right. If you want to be that way, then I
will ask the question you're avoiding. When were you
lovers?" she threw him a sidelong glance.
He choked. "Jesus Deanna."
"It's a simple question Will."
"Why the hell does it matter? I've never asked
you to account for everyone you've been with in your
life. It's ancient history!" he scowled.
"Apparently, not for her." Deanna regarded him
seriously.
"Look, whatever happened, happened a long time
ago and ... I refuse to defend myself for what
someone *else* is feeling!"
"Then why are you?" Her voice was sharp.
"Because," he trailed off, then glared at her.
"You're attacking me..."
"I'm not attacking you."
"Then what the hell kind of question was that?
What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know!" Troi's voice rose and then her
shoulders fell. "Gods, you're right. I'm sorry."
She exhaled contritely.
"Can we just drop this?" he frowned.
"When you ran into her this morning Will, I
felt it..." Deanna glanced up at him. Her eyes were
wide and conflicted.
Swearing under his breath, Riker drew his hand
back through his hair. "Look... I don't know what to
say anymore, Deanna. But we can't keep doing this.
Either you trust me or you don't."
"I do."
"Obviously that's not the case."
"What you were feeling, Will-"
"Was none of your damn business!" He rounded
on her, regretful when he felt the immediate
withdrawal of her presence. Only he wasn't quite
regretful enough. "It was... something... something
I don't even know how to explain. From when I was
fifteen years old. A kid, okay?" He sighed loudly,
fixing her with a direct gaze. "Sometimes, I just
wish..."
"I know what you wish." Her dark eyes held him
fast for several instants, before she turned and
walked in the other direction.
"Deanna, wait a second!" Riker moved after
her. She stopped him when she spun on her heel, mid
stride.
"If this was a mistake," she yelled back,
"then maybe you'll always have that wish. Maybe you
won't understand because maybe you can't. Maybe
we've both been deluding ourselves!"
"Damn it Deanna!" His voice carried several
meters, but she was already too far down the path.
He didn't even bother trying to catch her. Part of
him was too angry to try.
"I was going to tell you," he whispered
viciously to himself, sinking into a seated position
on the grass near the walkway. He snatched
aggressively at a patch of lush foliage, shredding it
with his fist. "Damn it to hell!" Letting his
head fall backward on his shoulders, Riker stared
blankly up at the sky. His only answer was the
drifting wisp of a cloud overhead.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 109
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Under the skin, intense fires burn."
--------------------
His heart felt like it was going to explode.
It felt as though any second might be the moment it
shattered into a million pieces, leaving him nothing
but an open, gaping hole. In all his life, in all
his dreams and ambitions, Riker had never let himself
feel about anyone the way he felt about Deanna Troi.
Slamming his fist on the ground in fury, Riker
scowled at the very thoughts that drove him to the
action. The problem was that no matter how much
antipathy churned within him, he could never forget
the way it was when he was with her. The way her
touch made him feel, in body and spirit.
"You're turning into a damn fool, Riker." He
muttered to himself, exhaling for emphasis.
He knew that she was hurt. He could feel her
no matter the walls or barriers of the mind she
erected between them. She'd never be able to keep
him out again. And he didn't want her to. He wanted
to know when she was scared or hurt, sorrowful or
upset. He wanted to know so that he could be with
her; so that he could show her she would never be
alone again.
Today, it had suddenly become clear that such
empathy ... came with a price.
It would cost him the emotional privacy he'd
been used to all his life. What it cost her, he
could only guess at. Then again, perhaps marrying
someone without the mental gift of her people had
been expensive enough for an empath. It seemed
bitterly ironic for both of them that the precise
form of emotional frankness that Betazed founded
itself on, was just the sort of thing most humans
would deem a very personal intrusion.
Some of it, though; some of it was incredible.
The things he'd shared with her... even in the short
period since their bond was completed. The way she
treated him as though he was center of her
universe... well beyond the boundaries of their
earlier friendship; as though she'd given him the key
to everything she ever held sacred inside her heart.
It was the way of her people. A gift to be
cherished, even revered. And somehow he'd managed to
drop it. The first 'major fight' of their
marriage, and it had been a cross-cultural clash.
Of all the irony...
It was evening now. The Captain had returned
earlier in the afternoon. There was no news, which
perhaps was good news. The rest of them would have
to wait until tomorrow to be questioned; later still
to find out why.
When the other officers had gone for dinner,
Riker held back. He'd been hoping to find Deanna,
maybe talk with her. Maybe tell her ... hell,
anything. Maybe drop down on his knees and beg her
to forgive him because he couldn't even remember why
he'd been so angry before, except that the last few
hours left him filled with an almost unbearable ache.
It was crazy that he felt this way! He'd
always been able to hold onto his anger, and he'd
been right this afternoon. At least about some of
it. But `being right' didn't even matter anymore.
Understanding why she'd been so hurt by what he said
... that mattered. Riker sighed and shook his head.
What was happening to him?
The problem, was that he hadn't been able to
find her. None of the others had seen her since
early afternoon. Based on their Enterprise cabin
assignments, they'd all been issued separate rooms.
She wasn't in hers. She wasn't in his. She wasn't
anywhere. And that was when he'd started to worry.
He could feel her, out there, somewhere, but
she wasn't answering his voice. All he got from her
was a profound sense of sorrow, and a reflection of
some of his own frustration. He'd given up trying to
contact her telepathically, he wasn't even sure if it
was working or not. And now all he had was the pull
inside his spirit as he left crew quarters and set
out through the quad in search of her. At least
there was that. If they'd both been human, there
wouldn't even have been that...
"I get it," Riker grumbled to himself, walking
down a myriad of pathways, dappled with shadows from
the sputtering lights on the exterior of the
buildings, triggered as the sun went down.
"Will?" A soft female voice called out to him.
He spun around.
"Katie." His gaze fell.
"Glad to see you too.." she regarded him
curiously. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." Riker nodded.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I'm ... taking a walk." Will shoved his hands
into his pockets and smiled.
"Alone?" Katie came forward under one of the
path-lights and stopped. "Where's your wife?"
"She's..." Riker hung his head. He and Katie
had been good friends, once. Part of him couldn't be
bothered to keep making anything more up. "I don't
know, honestly. We had a fight."
"I'm sorry." Flynn held her ground, hands in
her own jacket pockets.
"Are you?" he looked up.
"Was it about me?" she asked.
"Part of it."
"Then I am." Her green eyes shone in the
lamplight. There was nothing fake about her
expression.
"I believe you." Riker let out a breath. "You
know I think this is the first honest conversation
we've had all day."
"Well that's probably because we're not talking
about ourselves." Flynn smiled crookedly. Her eyes
settled on him for a time and then she sighed. "You
must really love her."
Riker dropped his shoulders and nodded. "Yeah,
Kit, I do."
"I'm glad." Her eyes were sparkling but she
was smiling. "I really am. I always wanted you to
be happy. The way you made me happy."
"Katie, I'm sorry." Will caught and held her
gaze. "I wish..."
"No," she came forward and placed her hand
against his cheek. "I'll always love you, Will. But
... I never expected you to spend your life with me."
Her eyes filled and she tipped her head to keep the
tears from falling. "You were there for me when I
needed you to be. I guess, you'll always be special
to me for that." Flynn gave up the fight and Riker
grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently.
"I feel the same way, Kit." He smiled at her.
"I really do."
Katie nodded slowly. She stared at him for so
long that Riker almost asked whether she was all
right. But suddenly her expression changed. Her
gaze hardened and she whispered quickly. "I think I
know who's doing this, Will." she looked across the
courtyard, then back again. "I should have told you
earlier, but I was scared. Mostly that they'd find
out about our past; my past."
Riker searched her expression. "Someone from
our past?"
Flynn glanced up at him. She'd been about to
speak when her eyes widened, staring out over his
shoulder. "No!!" she screamed, yanking Riker's body
around. She wasn't strong enough to pull him to the
ground in time, so she threw her arms around his neck
instead.
It happened in an interminable instant.
The dull whine of an energy weapon echoed
through the quad and Will felt Katie's body slam
against his. He barely had time to breathe, or to
register what had happened before her arms tightened
fiercely around his neck and he could smell the
horrible odor of burnt flesh.
"Fair's fair..." Flynn's breath released on a
gasp while her hands clutched the back of his head.
"Katie!" Riker spun around, but there was no
one there. He held her body when she let go of his
neck. Almost as though it were happening in slow
motion, Will felt her slip in his arms. "I need some
help here!"
Digging his comm badge into the palm of his
hand, Riker called for an emergency med-evac, but the
sick feeling in his stomach told him that it was
already too late. Katie's breathing was shallow when
he laid her gently on the grass, his eyes scanning
the quad for any sign of the medical team he knew
would be there in seconds.
"Katie.. hang on ... it's going to be okay."
Her mouth was moving, but no sound emerged.
Riker held her hand; he smoothed dark tendrils of
straight hair from her forehead, blinking through a
haze of burning tears. "Shh... don't try and talk."
"Mar-" she closed her eyes and swallowed.
Bending his head toward her face, Riker felt
the heat of her breath caress his ear when she
exhaled one final word. One word, and then his skin
was cool.
"Katie!" he yelled at her, shaking her body
even as the medical team shimmered into existence all
around them. "No. Oh, God, no, Katie."
A team of medical officers converged on Flynn
at once, thrusting Riker aside. He stumbled into the
grass, falling his knees; too stunned to breathe and
too blinded by tears to even witness their progress.
It didn't matter anyway.
He already knew she was gone. The vibrant girl
he once thought he loved. The young woman he'd
risked everything to keep safe when he was little
more than a kid himself. She'd taken a shot meant
for him in the end. She'd died so that he could
live. Suddenly ... nothing else seemed to matter.
Riker shut his eyes and tore at his own
clothing, crying out in despair.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 110
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light."
--------------------
Amber light pulsed in counterpoint to the slow
beat of Riker's heart as he sat in chairs at the
largest of Starfleet's medical facilities. He was
the only one in the room this side of the corridor,
because none of the other officers had arrived yet
from the Paragon. Katie's captain had been paged.
Commander Flynn was dead.
Gone before they'd even brought her here -- the
medical team seemed to take more care in watching
over *him* than they had with the lifeless body in
transit. They wrapped her in silver, and she was so
still. But in the end, she'd been with him.
After he'd given his `official' statement,
Riker shrugged off every sympathetic question from
the medical staff. He wanted them all to go to hell.
To leave him alone, at least. To let him grieve,
alone. He could never allow himself to feel the pain
if there was anyone watching.
Placing an elbow on each knee, Riker laid his
head in his hands. He remained that way in silence
for a very long time. Until he needed the space to
breathe; forcing him to drop one of his arms. It was
only a moment later that someone took the hand that
fell. Someone wrapped cool fingers around his
heated palm; someone placed another hand on top of
his.
Riker opened his eyes and stared down between
his knees where she was crouching. She touched him
nowhere, except his hand. Her dark eyes filled with
the reflection of his sorrow.
Deanna said nothing. Only sat on her heels and
held his hand. Only watched him with those large,
expressive eyes of hers. No questions. No unspoken
recriminations ... until he felt a familiar burn
inside his chest; behind his eyes. He'd told all
the rest of them to go to hell. But she was okay ...
she was...
Riker's hand clutched hers until the knuckles
on his fist turned white and he slid out of his
chair. He fell to his knees on the cold synthetic
floor; saw her gaze explore the whole of his
expression, and he felt her release his hand. But
only so that she could hold him against her heart.
And he did cry. Because there was nothing else
that he could do. Nothing else to bring Katie back.
And because Deanna knew that it was the feeling of
such helplessness that tortured him inside. More
than anything else. She knew it, the way she knew so
many things about his soul that no one else had ever
really understood.
Heedless of the voices in the outer room, or of
the blinking amber light, Riker didn't even notice
when his wife turned her head, forbidding an orderly
from entering. The orderly sealed the doorway to
their waiting room, instead.
--o--
The quad-complex was eerily silent when they
walked through it a second time. Eerily dim. Were
it not for the moving shadows of added security
personnel suddenly posted in such an idyllic
location, it might have been difficult to even
imagine that something so horrible had happened here.
Neither Will nor Deanna had spoken since they
left the medical facility. He hadn't even asked her
how she'd known where to find him.
"I was looking for you." Riker finally broke
the ice.
"I know."
"I have to tell you something." His voice was
flat and Deanna looked up at him. "I have to tell
you everything."
"Okay." She whispered back, still watching his
expression. She seemed so calm, so accepting. He
wanted to shake her. To demand why she wasn't angry
with him for admitting that he hadn't told her
everything already.
"You're not mad?" He asked quietly.
"No." Again the simplicity of her answer
startled him.
"Then you knew that I was keeping something
from you?"
Deanna shrugged slightly. "I knew that you
would tell me when you were ready."
"Deanna, the hearing is tomorrow."
"I know that."
Riker shook his head in frustration. "We're
going to be sitting in the JAG office in less than
ten hours ... how could you just trust that I
would.." he trailed off and stared at her.
"I trust you." She echoed her own comment from
earlier that day and Riker felt his heart slide
suddenly and firmly into his throat.
"C'mon. Lets get back to quarters." He
reached for her hand. "I don't trust this place
anymore."
Troi nodded and followed his lead. They moved
quickly through the complex until the building which
housed the officer's residence loomed before them.
Here, the walkway split into sections, each one
ambling toward a different cabin. Riker stopped at
the fork that divided his assignment with Deanna's.
Both of them glanced from one door to the other,
before she reclaimed his hand and walked them both in
the direction of his cabin door. They stopped just
outside.
"Why mine?" he asked.
"I flipped a coin in my head." Deanna offered
him a half-smile and a shrug.
"Okay." Riker almost smiled back. Punching
his access code into the lock, they waited for the
door to slide open, revealing a dark suite.
"Computer, one quarter lights."
He moved inside just ahead of her, following a
row of utilitarian cabinetry until he'd reached the
far wall of the room. There he turned. Clear blue
eyes settled on her. When he didn't speak, she came
toward him.
"Will, you're hurting right now." Her voice
was soft. "You don't have to do this."
"I do." Riker glanced at the floor, then back
up at her. "Deanna you deserve to know the truth.
And Katie deserved..."
It was only when Deanna's hands closed over his
that Riker realized how close she'd come. And why
was she doing this? She hadn't even mentioned their
argument from earlier...even though he knew he'd hurt
her too.
"Deanna," he sucked in a deep, cleansing
breath. "I told you I killed a man. A Starfleet
officer, because he hurt a friend of mine. What I
didn't tell you, was why."
Troi nodded slowly, encouraging him to
continue. He let out his breath and nodded.
"When I was fifteen, I took off from my
father's house. I left and never really looked back.
You know about that." He watched her silent nod.
Moving from the wall, Riker traded places with her
and began pacing. "I um, didn't really have any
place to go, so I thought -- you know, until I could
join Starfleet -- I'd work a while. Keep up with
school. My grandfather, the great Robert Riker,"
Will spoke his name with sarcastic avarice. "-he had
a ship. Sort of a little operation he ran himself.
Maybe it was because my father hated him so much, but
I decided to contact him. See if I could hitch a
ride somewhere, doing just about anything, until I
was old enough to join the Fleet. I didn't really
know what he was doing. And I didn't really care."
Riker's eyes fell into Deanna's. "Until later.."
"Robert was something of a pirate. This, of
course, is the part you know already. He ran weapons
and explosives out of the Federation into worlds that
either weren't protectorate yet, or that were having
troubles of their own. He didn't care either way, it
was all about the bottom line..
"I finally found him about two months after I
left home. He seemed like this great guy, larger
than life ... full of energy and exciting, even
though I guess he was in his sixties at the time. He
took me on board his ship -- called it the "Avalon",
after the knights of the round table.. Anyway, I
thought I'd finally arrived. That was when I met
Katie." Riker paused, collecting his thoughts. "She
was fifteen too, just turned. A runaway, except she
didn't have any parents at all." Will chuckled
quietly to himself, "and she was so full of fire."
He glanced up at Deanna and offered her a crooked
smile. "I think she taught me most of the profanity I
know to this day."
"She and I were the youngest on board. We
worked for a place to stay, and I really think Robert
wanted to make something out of me. What the hell
did I know, right? All I figured was that he ran his
business off his ship, and I had a job. The thing
is, Katie and I ended up doing most of the gopher
work for the crew on board. Whatever needed carrying
or fixing. We were pretty good at it. Except when
we got into port around Cerrus. There was a
federation outpost there which you know about, the
mines." Riker sighed. "Katie would always disappear
when we got there. For an hour or so. Robert sent
her up with supplies .. money, contraband, things to
grease the palms of the people who should have been
keeping us away from that planet." He swallowed,
looking anywhere but into Deanna's dark eyes.
"They had um, they had an officer stationed in
command of the local space around the colony. I
don't remember his name." Riker saw Troi tip her
head, but he continued without comment.
"One day, I... " Will began and then stopped,
staring at the floor. He could feel Deanna's eyes on
him and the weight of their presence nearly burned a
hole into his soul. "I found Katie, after we'd left
Cerrus. She was on one of the lower decks and she
was crying. She and I were close. I -- I mean, she
was the first girl I ever..." he trailed off into an
awkward silence.
"You were both very young for that."
Riker heard his wife's voice and he looked up,
willing himself to meet her expression. "Now see,
that's the thing. She was my first. I wasn't hers."
He continued to stare at Deanna until he could sense
her unwillingness shift. "Yeah. That's right,
Deanna. You don't want to hear this and I don't want
to be telling you this. But here we both are." He
looked down at his hands. "It turned out that Katie
wasn't just bringing up supplies as a bribe ... she
was part of it. The ... lieutenant in charge had a
thing for her. She was young and really pretty. And
Robert, well, he was happy enough to turn the other
way for an hour. If he could sell five thousand
plasma rifles. Katie'd been their ace in the hole on
Cerrus for almost a year by the time I got there."
When Riker glanced up again, he could see that
Deanna's hand had migrated to her lips and she was
regarding him in stunned silence. He cleared his
throat and turned away, unable to look at her for
longer than an instant.
"That night Katie told me. She told me what
happened. How he'd hurt her. How he always hurt her.
I didn't know!" Glancing up vehemently, Riker
slammed his hand against the wall. "I didn't know
any of it, I didn't even suspect!"
"You were a child, Will. Almost a man, but
still a child.." Deanna spoke to him without moving.
He offered her a self-loathing glance.
"The next time we went to Cerrus, I begged her
not to go up there. But she .. didn't want to make
Robert angry. She said he'd been good to her, taking
her in and all. She went anyway and I followed her.
I stood in the shadows, and I waited." Riker's eyes
scanned the room as though it were all happening
another time. "And when I saw that lieutenant start
hurting her; when I heard her start to cry again, I
pulled a phaser out of my bag. I set it to maximum.
I pointed it at him from four feet away ... and I
fired. I fired five times."
Realizing his hand was suspended in mid-air,
Riker dropped it self-consciously. He backed out of
the center of the room and pressed his shoulders
against the wall.
"What did he do to you, Will?" Deanna's soft
question pulled him back into the present.
Riker's eyes found focus and he stared at her
unblinking. "Nothing. I killed him. He was hurting
Katie. I wanted him dead."
"He hurt both of you." She moved toward him
slowly and stopped a short distance away. "And you
do remember his name. What happened on Cerrus,
Will?"
"He hurt Katie."
"Yes." She took another step until she was so
close, he could feel her body heat. "And he hurt you
as well."
"No. He didn't have a chance."
"Will-"
"I killed him, Deanna!" Riker raised both hands
to shove her away from him but he stopped. In the
instant that he'd almost made contact with her body,
he stopped and dropped his arms. "Oh my god, I'm
sorry." He'd almost shoved her. Physically pushed
her with all the strength in his body. But she hadn't
even flinched. "I -- I'm-"
"What happened on Cerrus, Will?" she asked him
again, but the feeling he got from her was only a
sense of overwhelming strength. She was feeding it
to him. He could feel it. And he didn't want any of
it!
"Stop it, Deanna." Riker slid from the wall
and sidestepped her. "I said stop it!" his hand went
to his head.
"Will, I love you!" Her eyes filled with
empathetic teardrops and she grabbed onto his
shoulders. "What happened on Cerrus?"
"They put us together! All right? Robert had
it all set up. He was going to sell Lieutenant Wells
a holo-vid that would get the Avalon access to Cerrus
for the next five years. And the three of us were
going to be the stars. Me, Katie and Wells. Okay?
Is that what you wanted to hear?" Will yelled back,
pulling away from her grasp. "We were in a locked
room. Wells grabbed onto Katie. I heard her cry
out, so I pulled the lieutenant's phaser out of his
belt on the floor. I shot him point blank in the
chest. He looked at me like he couldn't believe it
had happened." Riker half laughed. "But when he
fell over, Deanna, I felt this THRILL inside me. I
was euphoric. Because he was dead!"
When Deanna came forward, he could see the
question in her eyes before she spoke it. "What did
he do to you, Will?"
This time, Riker's shoulders simply fell.
"The same thing he did to Katie." He refused to look
at her. "When I found out what happened to her, I
went to Robert and I demanded that he do something
about it, or I would. He laughed at me, Deanna."
Will turned away in disgust. "He had one of his guys
grab onto me and he told me that if I cost him
seventy-five thousand bars of gold-pressed latinum,
he'd kill me himself. The next time we went to
Cerrus, Katie and I both went up with supplies. I
thought I could protect her..."
"You were fifteen."
"She didn't deserve to die this way!" Riker
switched timeframes almost without realizing it and
Deanna came forward, wrapping her arms around his
larger frame.
"Oh, Imzadi." he felt her whispered voice
inside his thoughts. She was so close, he could feel
her presence in every fibre of his being. Too close.
Riker tore himself away from her embrace.
"I don't want your pity!"
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 111
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The universe, once it casts its spell, holds one in
its net of wonder forever."
--------------------
Deanna kissed him. Kissed him hard. Kissed
him full on the lips until he could barely breathe
for the pull of her sweet, loving mouth over his. It
was incredible. He hadn't even known what he'd been
aching for until he felt her body crushed against
him.
Touch. The feeling of warm vitality. The
experience of love that soared beyond the limitations
of flesh. Had she asked him a minute ago, he would
have pushed her away. Told her to leave him alone --
with his thoughts. Alone to lick his wounds in
private, the way he always had. But it wasn't what
he needed. This ... was what he needed.
She said nothing to him when he lifted her onto
a short table by the wall. He slid her on top of it,
the increase in altitude levelling their heights so
that he could see directly into the depths of her
luminous eyes. His hands explored the contour of
her face, lifting her hair off her shoulders while he
bathed in the warm, ticklish sensation that was her.
She was everywhere in his spirit.
But she'd done nothing aggressive since the
first kiss. Riker pulled his fingers across her
cheek, leaning forward simultaneously so that their
mouths recaptured an earlier rhythm. She was letting
him lead, for whatever her reasons; she followed
everywhere he led.
Deanna melted into his body. He stood between
her legs while her hands kneaded into his shoulders.
"Why are you doing this?" He watched her eyes,
her face, her neck. He didn't want to know, but he
knew he had to ask.
The only answer he received was the press of
her chest against his torso. He felt her breath on
his neck when she kissed him again.
And then he knew.
She was coaxing him toward intimacy. She was
doing it because she thought it was what he needed.
She had a reason of her own. The problem was.. he
didn't care.
Fastening his mouth on hers with new urgency,
Riker groaned when the slight weight of her body
shifted wholly into his arms. He lifted her from the
table and she wrapped her legs around him as he
staggered backward into the suite.
"Last chance to stop..." he spun them both
around and pressed her back against the wall. Her
eyes widened and she grinned at the imposition.
Still she said nothing, leaning forward and dusting
her mouth across his. But before he could kiss her,
she pulled away. Just far enough to tease. She did
the same thing twice, and then a third time before
she moved on to his neck. She was driving him crazy!
Giving up on conventional means, Riker finally
caught her on the fifth attempt. He focused all his
energy on feeding her the full force of the pleasure
she was taunting him with. Deanna collapsed into his
kiss with an audible moan.
"You liked that?" He whispered against her
neck, then pulled away. Troi's dark eyes flashed at
him and she was panting quietly. "I'll take that as
a yes." He removed her from the wall.
When the backs of his knees touched the edge of
the bed, Riker hopped over it. Landing on his back,
he caught Deanna's waist and held her still where she
fell on top of him. He caressed her with his eyes,
letting their link forge a reality between them that
heightened every fantasy he chose to share.
Deanna's head fell back, her hands splayed
against his chest and her hips rocked against him.
She was definitely following along. Flipping them
both horizontal, Riker pinned her body on the
mattress. He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders
and she tugged at the fastening of his shirt before
he helped her with her own.
Shedding their clothing took a matter of
moments, and when it was over, Riker did something he
could tell she hadn't expected. He sat them both up.
Kneeling on the bed, they faced each other.
Letting his fingertips glide over her
collarbone, Riker cupped her breast in his hand and
kneaded it in his palm. Deanna bit down on her lip
and made a sound, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly
enough. And so he replaced his hand with his mouth.
Drawing his heated palm along her skin across her
belly, Riker slid between her legs and touched her
center. He didn't have to see her face. He heard
her moan and felt her pleasure. It was just what
he'd been waiting for. Just what he needed to do
exactly what she'd taught him. Send it back to her
at twice the price. Three times.
Deanna's moan became a keening cry. Her body
collapsed into his arms, unable to carry even her own
weight any longer.
"Tell me what you want..." His whisper
caressed her ear.
Riker laid her gently on the mattress,
continuing a torture so sweet, she thought she might
die from it. She opened her eyes and shook her head.
A flash of pure feeling coursed through her like
blood.
"Oh, Gods.." she breathed against his skin.
They were the first words she had uttered at all; the
sound of them escaped unbidden. Her head fell back
and pressed against their pillow. Lifting her hands
to his neck, Deanna pulled him toward her for a kiss
so filled with passion, they were gasping from the
force of their own fantasy when they finally found
the means to part.
Riker shifted her beneath him. She drew her
lips along his neck, across his chest and back to his
mouth. He knew what she wanted. He wanted it too.
Entering her body was the purest form of
ecstasy he'd ever known since the completion of their
bond. Even without the teasing games they played,
the physical communion of their bodies filled them
both with a kind of pleasure he had never dreamed was
even possible. Tonight, however, even that wasn't
enough.
Watching her rise to meet his every movement,
Riker looked down on her; the perfection of her body;
her dark eyes fixed intently on his gaze. He knew
with sudden clarity that he could take her higher
than she had ever been before. That if they'd only
let each other, there was no limit to the end.
"Deanna," he exhaled her name, shutting his
eyes as the pleasure of their union continued to
grow. There, in the solitude of such perfection,
Riker found the means. He found her spirit .. and he
could see it. As clearly as he'd ever seen anything
in his life. He could touch it...
Embracing a force of power so great it nearly
consumed him, Riker felt her reach the edge. The
point from which she might go over. Only he stopped
her. He held her from that place, opening his eyes
and watching as his discovery settled into her
expression. He fed her more of it instead.
Deanna convulsed in his arms. But it wasn't
the end, it was only the beginning. Her cries for
him grew louder and stronger -- his sense of her so
powerful he nearly lost himself within. He lost
track of time. Knowing only her pleasure, he inhaled
it like a drug.
When finally the room regained its focus, she
was begging him; pleading both aloud and in his mind
that it was too much, that she could take no more.
Though her body continued to join him push for push.
Losing himself in her eyes, Riker pressed his hands
against her forehead, smoothing damp tendrils of her
hair away before he kissed her for a full and final
time. Her own hands grabbed his wrists, drawing him
closer, deeper into the encounter.. until he let them
both release. Surrendering in full.
His world exploded. He heard her scream; felt
her body contract and her back arch adoringly against
him. When the pressure released, Deanna's voice was
audible on every breath she exhaled and Riker could
feel the aftershock of their intimacy to the farthest
depth of his spirit.
"Oh," she gasped aloud, "gods," her voice was
trembling. "Will..."
"I'm sorry." he whispered, drawing his hands
over the moist curve of her waist.
"What? Why?" Deanna turned in his arms and
kissed him lovingly on the lips.
"Because if I'd understood, if I'd always been
Betazoid. Or if you'd been with someone else who
was. You could have had so much more."
"Imzadi.." she breathed, cradling his face in
her hands, "Oh, Will you don't believe that, do
you?" when he didn't respond, she kissed him again.
"It isn't true!"
"No. You were right today. When you said that
I didn't understand, and that I might never
understand. Maybe that's true. There are things
that.."
"That was me being angry. Me being an idiot."
She wrinkled her nose fondly. "I didn't mean any of
that," her gaze softened on him, "no more than you
meant that you didn't want to feel what I was feeling
anymore." Deanna pulled her body toward him and
wrapped her arms around his chest. They were quiet
for a time before she sighed. "Imzadi, what you did
to me tonight ... I never knew was even possible."
"To be honest, neither did I." He smiled
crookedly at the sound of her laughter.
"Please don't forget *how*!"
"How did you know?" Riker couldn't help
himself from tucking a portion of hair behind her
ear. "How did you know that I needed to be with you
like this .. it wasn't exactly a specific emotion.
Hell, I didn't even know. Not until you kissed me."
"No," Deanna kissed his finger when it brushed
against her lips. "I just know you."
"I don't know what I'd do without you." His
whisper carried back to her along with a greater
measure of vulnerability than she might have
expected. But she knew the reason for that as well.
It wasn't a self-assured Starfleet commander who'd
loved her tonight. It was only Will.
"William," she used his full name and spoke it
quietly. "You have to know that whatever happens in
this life, good or bad, we'll go through it
together." Deanna lifted herself off his body and
stared down at him. "We made a promise, and that
promise was forever. That doesn't mean when it's
convenient, or when it doesn't hurt. It means
always."
He looked up at her and he nodded. "Yeah.
Part of me knows that. I guess, I just-"
"You want to protect everyone you care about
from the horrible dark places in your life." Her
quiet sigh preceded her warm presence on his chest.
"But I'm not everyone."
"You know I figured that bit where you grabbed
my shoulders and told me you were in love with me
wasn't part of your regular counseling routine..."
Riker smiled when he saw the color that stole into
her features.
"Actually, you're the first person I've ever
tried that on. I was thinking though, since it
worked..."
Riker tickled her and she fell against him
helplessly. His voice grew frank. "Deanna, we have
to find out who's out there. We have to find out
who's doing this because what if he or she doesn't
stop? What if the next person I end up holding in my
arms in some dark place is-"
"No." Troi shook her head. "Don't think about
`what if' before it happens, you'll go mad. You
have to concentrate on today and on tomorrow. Think
about the investigation and about all the people who
are out there trying to solve this right along with
us."
"What happened to Katie and I back then-"
"Has no bearing on the conclusion of this
investigation. What happened back then may well be
addressed at some later point in your life but this
isn't the moment for it. The JAG office certainly
doesn't need to know about any of it to do their
jobs." Her dark eyes flashed. "That's not just my
personal opinion, Will, that would be my professional
opinion as well -- and any other Counselor would
corroborate that. Your grandfather's ship and his
reputation will come up in this instance. So might
the death of lieutenant Wells, but YOU do not need to
volunteer any more than the truth about the issues
that pertain directly to whomever is out there right
now. You're not a criminal, Will. Regardless of
your actions. You haven't done anything to provoke
these attacks. Your personal life is not their
concern."
"Wow." Riker shook his head in awe. "Will you
be my lawyer?"
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 112
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The Earth laughs in flowers."
--Ralph Waldo Emerson
--------------------
"Commander Riker, are you suggesting that the
presence behind these recent attacks might have
something to do with your own past?" Admiral Wilson
of the Judge Advocate General's office leaned forward
in his chair. When Riker paused for longer than he
should have, Wilson exhaled. "I remind you that you
are not on trial here, Mr. Riker. We're merely
trying to ascertain the truth of what happened up
there .. and down here."
"We're well aware of Robert Riker's export
'practice' to Cerrus, Commander." Another officer; a
Vulcan woman with the rank of Commander spoke up, and
Riker reined in his look of surprise at her
knowledge. He put forth what he hoped was a carefully
neutral expression.
"You were never brought into the initial
investigation of your grandfather's ship because of
your age at the time and the fact that your
involvement was minimal at best." Wilson
interjected.
"Sir, in all honesty -- I can't say for certain
whether these recent attempts on my life have
anything to do with what happened on Cerrus at all.
Then -- or now. It just seems damned coincidental."
"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" The
admiral nodded.
"Can you tell us about your relationship with
Commander Katherine Flynn?" The third member of the
panel, a Betazoid woman who'd introduced herself as
Lieutenant Commander Lyss, examined him closely.
"We were friends." Riker looked back at her.
Meeting her gaze directly, the way he would have met
Deanna's.
He was also blocking any attempt to skim
thoughts from the surface of his mind. That would
have been the most casual method of gleaning
information from him (were Lyss to try). And he
doubted that she would go beyond that. Even that
much would be a direct breach of etiquette,
considering he was neither a criminal nor under
suspicion of lying. She would only realize the
impediment were she to try and break through it -- at
which point her own embarrassment would be greater
than his.
It was interesting that they'd brought a
Betazoid into the panel. Without a doubt it was a
purposeful calculation, though not specifically for
his benefit. Most panels of inquest tended to have a
Starfleet member of a telepathic species in their
midst, if only to 'rattle the chains' of ignorance
which ran deep -- especially among those keeping
secrets. It was an easy supposition to make that if
a person didn't know whether their mind was being
read or not; whether it was even allowed -- he or she
would be more likely to stick to the truth.
Riker smiled inwardly; he wondered if Lyss had
any idea that while she stared at him with those
wide, black eyes -- passively intimidating -- he was
already married to a Troi. He'd seen just about
every silent look the Betazoid people knew how to
throw out and even mastered a few of them himself.
If Lyss did know, a fact he doubted since it was
extremely recent history, she certainly gave no
indication of it; offering him only an enigmatic
smile.
"How long were you friends?" she asked.
Oh, good girl. Asking a question that would
eventually lead him into one where he couldn't answer
truthfully without revealing more than he'd like to.
She knew she was on to something.
"A number of years." Riker smiled back.
"Are you being deliberately vague, Commander?"
The Vulcan inquired.
"Not at all. I just don't see what my
friendship with Commander Flynn has to do with what
happened on Cerrus."
"I'm sure you can see why Commander Sarris
believes your answer to be vague, Commander."
Admiral Wilson cut in. "You yourself stated that the
attacks here and on that moon might be related in
some way."
"I said it seemed that way, sir." Riker
frowned. "But Katherine's death was an accident.
That weapon was aimed at me. She took the shot and
she was killed because someone was trying to kill
*me*. That had nothing to do with my friendship with
her. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Are you so certain of that?" Lyss asked.
"As certain as I can be. Considering someone
tried to kill me with the exact same kind of energy
weapon earlier that same day. I can't imagine they
were aiming at Katie.."
"But you can imagine they were aiming at you."
Sarris pressed.
"I wasn't *imagining* it when a phaser blast
nearly burnt the uniform off my body, if that's what
you're asking." Riker countered.
"Where was Commander Flynn when the first
attack occurred?"
"I don't know, exactly." Riker traded a glance
between Sarris and Wilson, but it was Lyss who asked
the next question.
"Are you sure?"
"She and I had a drink before lunch. We left
our separate ways. About five minutes afterward, I
was attacked."
"So it is conceivable that you and Commander
Flynn may have been in the same vicinity at the same
time, is it not? She might just as well have been
the target." Commander Sarris' dark eyes fastened on
Riker.
"If she was the target, then with all due
respect, why the hell were they shooting at *me*?"
Will shook his head. The whole thing was getting
more ridiculous by the minute. Who would want to
kill Katie? For that matter .. who would want to
kill him, either.
"A hazard suit on board the Paragon was
tampered with in a similar manner to yours, Commander
Riker." Sarris continued. "Did you know that
Lieutenant Marcus Wells, a Starfleet officer who was
killed, ostensibly by the late Robert Riker while
trying to prevent him from selling weapons to the
civil revolutionaries on Cerrus, also died of a type
three phaser blast? One with precisely the same
measure and frequency as the shots that were fired at
you yesterday?"
"I didn't know that." Riker crossed his legs
in his chair.
"You didn't know about the death of Lieutenant
Wells?"
"I didn't know that the frequency of the phaser
blasts were the same." Will sat forward.
"I'll ask you again Commander," Lyss regarded
him patiently. "How long were you friends with
Katherine Flynn?"
Riker stared at them all for an eternal
instant. He finally exhaled. "Since we were
teenagers."
"Did you know her on board Robert Riker's
ship?"
"Yes, Commander Lyss," Riker fixed her with a
cold gaze. "I knew Katie Flynn on Robert Riker's
ship."
Sarris sat forward. "That would have been
approximately twenty-three years ago, would it not?"
"Approximately." Riker sighed.
The panel turned inward and whispered something
for nearly a minute. Riker couldn't hear them, but
he sat in his chair waiting for the resumption of
their attention. When they finished, Admiral Wilson
leaned against his chair and frowned.
"That will be all for today, Commander Riker."
"Sir?"
"You are dismissed. Please be available for
further inquiry over the next forty-eight hours
should the panel call on you again."
"Yes sir." Rising from his seat with all the
confusion of a perplexed child, Riker made his way
toward the door.
"Commander?" Admiral Wilson's voice brought
Riker up short. He turned. "You should be advised
that an investigation into the death of Lieutenant
Marcus Wells has also been officially reopened, due
to the similarities between his death and Commander
Flynn's. This inquiry may become a formal trial.
Should that happen, you might wish to seek counsel."
Riker stood rigid in the doorway. "Why would I
need to do that?"
"Because Commander," Sarris looked down at him
with a neutral and entirely logical expression. "As
of the present time, you are formally a suspect in
the murder of Commander Katherine Flynn."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 113
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Sit in reverie, and watch the changing color of the
waves that break
upon the idle seashore of the mind."
--Henry Wadsworth
--------------------
When Riker left the panel chamber, he found
himself in the midst of the Enterprise's senior
staff. All of them were in uniform. All of them had
already gone through their own line of questioning.
The door slid shut behind him and the first
pair of eyes he saw were Deanna's. She said nothing,
but he could read the question all over her
expression. He felt like he'd been hit by a
transport. She must have felt it too. Without
looking away, Riker walked slowly into the room.
"They think I killed Katie..." He could barely
hear the sound of his own voice.
"What?" Deanna froze where she stood, mouth
agape.
"That's ridiculous!" Beverly Crusher came
forward, hands on her hips.
"It's impossible. Whoever it was, was shooting
at you!" LaForge shook his head.
"Everyone calm down for a moment." Captain
Picard moved between them and stood in front of
Riker. "Did they accuse you directly, Will?"
"Commander Sarris looked right at me and told
me there would likely be a trial and that I was
formally a suspect." Will exhaled while the Captain
thinned his lips. "I didn't kill Katie... How
could they think I killed Katie?" Riker pulled one
hand through his hair and moved to the other end of
the room.
"Perhaps here is not the best place to discuss
this." Picard interjected. "Lets all go back to
quarters. We can talk there." The Captain offered
his first officer one final look -- a look which
wasn't returned -- before he indicated that the rest
of the staff follow him out.
Riker lagged behind. He'd nearly made it to
the door when he felt a touch on his arm. It was
Deanna. And the warmth of her presence was welcome
indeed. He gratefully accepted the hand she slipped
into his.
Leaning into him, Troi whispered something into
his ear. It was in Betazin, but loosely translated,
it amounted to: `the end does not arrive until we
invite it'.
"It ain't over `till it's over?" Will
paraphrased, turning to offer her a wan smile.
"Do you love me?" she asked.
"You know I do."
"Then kiss me."
"What?" He checked her for a third eye.
"Here? We're in the middle of the JAG office."
"I know." Deanna's smile lit her features.
"And we're in uniform!" She whispered
conspiratorially.
Maybe it was what she said. Maybe it was how
she said it, but Riker found himself grinning despite
it all. He pulled her in front of him, wrapped his
arms around her and kissed her long and hard.
There were catcalls from inside the outer
office before he let her go.
"Now," she spoke softly, oblivious to the
attention of the room, "who is the master of your
fate?"
"I am." He smiled at the light in her eyes.
"Very good." Deanna took his arm and laid her
head on top of his shoulder. Together, the two of
them left the JAG offices in companionable silence.
--o--
"You two are late." Beverly smirked as Will
and Deanna entered the communal `living area' of the
officers quad. "The rest of us have been here ten
minutes already."
"We um ... stopped on the way." Riker glanced
at Troi and his grin widened when he noticed she was
trying *not* to smile.
"Well, wherever you `stopped', it must have
been good. You look a lot better, Riker." Crusher
patted his arm affectionately.
"I think I just needed to be reminded of a few
things." He gave Deanna's hand a warm squeeze and
then released it, walking toward one of the
utilitarian benches. The Captain and Data were
already sitting, so he joined them and folded his
hands in his lap.
"Well, Number One, hopefully the Counselor has
also reminded you that you're not about to be left
alone in this mess." Picard sat forward.
"She has, Captain."
"Good." The Captain nodded. "Then we should
discuss the matter of your representation, should the
need arise..."
"I was hoping to ask Mr. Data, sir."
"I would be happy to represent you, Commander.
I am qualified. But the JAG office has many equally
qualified individuals with significantly greater
trial experience than-"
"I trust you Data." Will met the android's
eyes.
"Thank you sir." Data answered quietly.
"Then... I would be honored."
Riker sighed. "Okay," he placed his hands flat
on his knees. "Now all I need to do is get this
straight in my head.."
"They can't have any evidence against you,
Will. You simply didn't do what they're saying."
Beverly scowled. "I don't understand how they can
even accuse you."
"Maybe they think I'm an accomplice, or maybe
they think I set the whole thing up." Will shrugged,
pressing his palms to his legs as he rose. "I don't
get it either, but they were serious as a heart
attack in there." He looked to his Captain. "They
also think the incident on Cerrus' moon and the
attacks down here are related."
"That seems a little absurd." Picard frowned.
"For one thing, why would you sabotage your own
hazard suit? For another, how do they expect you had
access to the Paragon's equipment?"
"Maybe they have reason to believe there was
more than one person involved." Riker brushed his
hand across the frame of a prominent painting in the
room.
"That may well be," The Captain agreed, "But
had things gone as `planned' on that moon, you would
have died out there. That doesn't seem a very
intelligent form of terrorism to me."
Terrorism. The word echoed in Deanna's
thoughts. She'd been thinking about it in those
Jeffries shafts as she was climbing, entertaining an
uncharitable thought regarding...
"Sir!" Troi moved forward.
Her emotions shifted so suddenly that Riker
wasn't sure whether he should jump over and catch
her, or whether she'd already fallen. When he looked
at her, however, she was still on her feet.
"I don't know why I didn't realize this
earlier.." she breathed; her eyes found Will's.
"When I was down there in those tunnels, it occurred
to me that the way I came up was much shorter than
the way Will had. Obviously he would never have fit
in the tunnel I ended up in, and I thought it was
laughable that whomever had planted that explosive
had been so short sighted as to think that a woman --
or anyone my size -- wouldn't have been involved in a
mission to get rid of the device." Deanna paced
while she spoke. "Now I realize -- there was no way
for the device to have been brought in through Will's
side of the tunnels at all. Not unless the shaft was
built around it and we know that's not true. It had
to have gone up my side because of the drop. The
bomb was sitting on my side of the tunnel, hanging
*over* the drop. That's why Will couldn't get to the
detonator. It was set from the other side..." her
voice trailed off. "Captain," Troi looked up and
fixed Picard with a serious look. "Whoever set that
explosive had to be no larger than I am."
"It could have been a woman.." LaForge cut in.
"Counselor Troi might not have been able to haul the
device up the long side of the tunnels by herself,
but if she came in the other end, it would have been
a pretty short climb for someone her size."
"What about a Ferengi?" Crusher asked.
"The average adult Ferengi male is
significantly larger in girth than the Counselor. As
are the adult males of most species known to the
Federation who may be vertically similar in height."
Data shook his head. "I believe the Counselor may
well be correct."
"But if the person who placed the device was
indeed a woman, that still begs the question of who
... and why." Captain Picard shook his head.
"Before anybody even says it. You can all axe
the possibility of an ex-lover." Riker scowled at
Beverly's smug expression. "I've never had a bad
breakup. Well, except for one.. but I'm pretty sure
she's not out to kill me anymore. -- I did marry her
in the end." He allowed himself to look up, catching
the tail end of Troi's amusement. "Besides, an ex-
girlfriend out for revenge would just be a little too
terrifying..."
"You mean for us!" The doctor smirked. "We're
the one's who'd have to spend all night in here
crossing names off a list that went out that door..."
"Very funny, doc." Riker huffed indignantly.
"And what are you smiling at?" he glared at Deanna
while she held her hand over her mouth.
"Nothing." She shrugged innocently.
"I don't know about you people." Riker's eyes
narrowed. "I have a feeling it's going to be a long
night no matter what." He looked at each of them
before he finally laughed. "But thank you. For
believing in me."
"Riker, I've put you back together so many
times," Crusher admonished, "I'll be damned if
they're going to take you apart again before I'm good
and ready."
"Coming from you, doctor," he tipped his head
and grinned. "I don't know whether to be flattered
or scared."
"I'd opt for fear, Commander." All eyes turned
to their Captain. He'd spoken so calmly, and with a
poker face impassive enough to rival even Riker's
best, that the room fell eerily silent. Only then --
with the hush of uncertainty still hanging in the air
-- did the indomitable Jean-Luc Picard, allow himself
to smile.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 114
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"To the last I grapple with thee; from hell's heart I
stab at thee;
for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee."
--Herman Melville
--------------------
Katie Flynn crouched in the shadows of a dim
room. Rocking on her heels, she thumped the back of
her head against a cold metal wall and was grateful
for the pain.
"This is not happening." Her whisper echoed
harshly in the small chamber.
"You did what you had to do," another voice
returned.
"Like hell! He didn't deserve that." Flynn's
eyes pressed shut and she hit the wall again. "Shit.
Shit."
"Calm down," the voice in the darkness hissed.
"Drowning in self-pity isn't going to help."
"I thought this would be easy. After so many
years. 'Piece of cake!' Ha!" Katie groaned. "Did
you know he still looks at me the same way?"
"Your report mentioned he was married."
"Oh yeah," she droned. "Hitched as a good
horse."
"I did some checking. Commander Troi from the
Enterprise. Deanna Troi..."
"That's the babe. Long dark hair, black eyes,
a lot like-"
"We have a problem." The other voice exhaled.
"What problem is that?" Katherine pressed her
hands to her knees and stood. She threw a long look
at her companion. "What problem?" Flynn repeated
dangerously. "You said there wouldn't *be* any
problems? What goddamn *problem*?"
"Be still!"
"I am not reliving any goddamn PROBLEMS! Do
you hear me!"
"Commander Flynn!" The voice spoke loudly,
filled with sudden authority. Katie laid back against
the wall, eyes shut.
"What problem?" she reiterated calmly.
Moving into the light, the voice paused.
"Nothing I can't handle." A pair of dark, obsidian
eyes flashed.
"Of course not." Katie looked on. "You're all
the same..."
--------------------
Chapter 115
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear."
--William Shakespeare, Midsummer Night's Dream
--------------------
It was late. Later than any of the officers in
the meeting room had planned on staying up.
Plans had changed.
Huddled in the corner with Data and LaForge,
Riker found his body suddenly laden with the weight
of exhaustion. They must all have felt the same way;
with the notable exception of Data, of course.
Looking up from his end of the suite, Will
found Deanna staring right at him. She, the doctor
and the captain had all been working on a possible
connection between his hazard suit and the one on the
Paragon while his own group took on the task of
preparing for the eventuality of a trial. They'd
been at this for hours and it looked as though they'd
be at it for hours more. He met the Counselor's eyes
and smiled.
:::Back at ya, Sparks::: he sent her a quiet
acknowledgement. Deanna returned his brief smile
before returning her focus to the group.
"Commander-?" Geordi's voice cut into his
thoughts and Riker realized he was still staring in
Troi's direction. His gaze shifted and he gawked
blankly at LaForge for an interminable instant.
Obviously, there had already been a portion of
conversation that he'd managed to miss.
Riker exhaled. Pulling one hand over his face,
he dragged his body from the bench. "I can't do
this. I need a break. Lets take ten or something?"
"Works for me." Geordi yawned.
"Hm." Data nodded agreeably. "Since I require
no rest, I will remain and continue my analysis."
"Just as long as I'm not paying you by the
hour." Riker grinned.
The android frowned.
"It was a joke, Data." LaForge shared Riker's
mirth.
"Ah! You were referring to the historical
practice of the legal profession on Earth in the
twenty-first century."
"Yes, and before we get into that period of
history with any depth, I'm going out for some air."
Smiling wanly, Riker pulled himself to his feet and
shook his head to clear it.
"You all right Commander?" Geordi stood with
him.
"Yeah. Just ... weird. Little strange there
for a second. It's gone now." Will glanced across
the room and noticed for the first time that Deanna
was no longer sitting with the doctor and the
captain. Riker's eyes met Beverly's and she
pointed at the door. He nodded.
Making his way from the room, Riker felt the
entrance slide shut behind him and the cool breeze of
the courtyard when it tickled his skin. He inhaled
gratefully.
That was when he noticed Deanna. She was
sitting on a bench in the middle of the enclosure;
head tipped backward, eyes shut and seemingly
oblivious to his presence.
"Hey," he crept up behind her, placing his
hands in her hair and smoothing it from her face.
"Hey," she looked up at him.
"You okay?"
"This is going to be fun." Deanna smiled wryly
at his confusion. "Morning sickness, Will. Beverly
gave me something for it. It shouldn't recur very
often ... so long as I don't forget to take the hypo
each day."
Riker made his way around the bench and knelt
in front of her. He took her hand in his. "But
you're all right?"
"We're fine." She brushed a lock of hair away
from his forehead.
"You should go back to quarters." His
expression remained serious. "Get some rest."
"So should you," she countered.
"I'm not pregnant."
"No. And how fair is that?" Deanna grinned
impishly.
"Hey, you know if I'd had the choice-" Riker
began, but Troi's eyebrows rose and he smiled. "We'd
at least have flipped a coin for it!"
"You and your coins." she laughed.
"Riker to Picard." Will suddenly tapped the
badge on his chest.
"Will.." Deanna sat forward in counter attack.
<Picard here>
"Sir," Shaking his head at her glance, Riker
returned her stare. "Deanna's not feeling well."
She glared at him.
"...and I'm about ready to fall over, myself."
He added conciliatorily, watching the blaze in her
eyes dim slightly. "We all are. I think we should
call it a night. Whatever happens tomorrow, none of
us will be any good for it if we're half dead."
There was a slight pause on the other end of
the COMM and Riker was almost certain he could hear
Beverly's voice before the Captain's returned.
<Understood and agreed Number One. Perhaps
morning will bring us all greater clarity. Tell the
Counselor I hope she feels better.>
"I will, sir." Riker smiled despite Deanna's
glower. "Riker out."
"I feel *fine*." She retorted.
"Yeah, well, I don't. Unlike my beautiful Betazoid
wife ... I am a mere mortal and I require sleep in
order to function." He grinned and noticed the
slight smile which crept into her features. "If I
may beg the indulgence of the goddess of empathy."
"Fine." Deanna swiped his arm, but let him
draw her to her feet as he stood. "You win."
"There's got to be a first time for
everything." He pulled her into his arms and kissed
her quickly.
"Keep that up," she murmured against his lips,
"and neither one of us is going to get any sleep."
"And you say I'm insatiable..." Riker winked
at her. Draping his arm over her shoulder, he lead
her the rest of the way from the courtyard in
silence.
The stillness of the tiny garden whispered
softly in their absence; a gentle rustle of leaves
and restless trees. From the farthest corner of the
enclosure something moved.
A figure emerged cautiously from the shadows.
Cloaked in darkness, its features were indiscernible.
Small hands reached from beneath a large hood,
sliding it down and revealing a tangle of long, dark
hair. Impassive eyes looked on into the night.
--------------------
Chapter 116
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this
way comes."
--William Shakespeare, Macbeth
--------------------
It was pitch black when Riker and Troi arrived
at the door to his quarters. The light above the
cabin had either burnt out or never come on at all
and Riker muttered an oath of frustration as he
peered at the numerical key-plate where he was to
enter his access code.
Deanna had her arm linked through his, but she
brought them up short, stilling his hand before he'd
made good on the access attempt. Turning her head,
she glanced quizzically behind them.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I'm not sure... something." a thoughtful
frown touched her lips.
"Lets go inside."
Riker tapped in his code and grimaced when the
door-plate buzzed an error. He must have missed a
digit. Exhaling a little more loudly than he had
planned, he tried the code again.
It wasn't that he was the type to be afraid of
the dark, or even the all-too-quiet stillness which
seemed to surround them, but Deanna was right.
Something seemed ... wrong.
The code buzzed at him again.
"Damn it." He grumbled, reaching into his
uniform jacket for the small plastic reminder of the
unlock value. It was so dark, he could barely make
out the numbers on the tiny chit. Still he was
almost positive they said exactly what he'd already
punched in.
"Will!"
Riker spun around at the sound of Deanna's
urgency. Releasing the hand she'd pulled through his
arm, he saw a bright light flash in the darkness.
There was never a sound.
Troi's eyes widened, her mouth fell open but
nothing came out. In a paradox of slow motion, her
small body pitched forward and she fell into his
arms.
"Deanna!" Riker screamed as his wife's limp
form began to slip through his grasp. "No!" his eyes
flew out into the night but there was nothing in the
inky blackness; nothing but the sound of his cry
echoing wretchedly throughout the complex.
"NO!!"
William Riker convulsed into an upright position.
His heart slammed forcefully into the base of his
throat and his breath caught in his chest with
agonizing consequence. "No..." he whispered again,
staring into darkness while comprehension loomed just
out of reach.
Where was he? What was this place?
A small hand drew gently over the hot skin on
his face. Another wrapped around his torso, pulling
him backward while the warmth of a soothing
peacefulness caressed his mind.
"Deanna?" Riker swiped a damp strand of hair
from his forehead and peered into the shadows.
Turning in the arms that held him close, he struggled
in pursuit of his own pulse.
"Yes," her whispered voice came back to him,
carried on a current of comfort that he cared less
about than the fact that she was real, and warm.
"Shh." she silenced his next attempt at speech while
he shut his eyes and sent his thanks to any god who'd
listen. "It was a dream." she murmured against his
skin. "Only a dream."
"Yeah." Riker swallowed the titanium fist in
his throat and managed a nod. "..yeah." He pulled
her fiercely against him and sealed the embrace with
more force than he'd intended.
"I'm right here." The tone of her voice never
wavered.
"God, it was so real. It felt like it was all
real." Riker felt the exhaustive splash of
adrenaline that had pulsed through his veins begin to
dissipate. With Deanna in his arms, he let himself
fall backward against the head of their bed; pressing
his shoulders into the smooth, firm surface. He
caught his breath.
When they'd been silent for a while, her body
resting in the crook of his shoulder, her fingers
drawing idle circles on the front of his chest --
Riker bent toward her and laid his lips on the top of
her head.
"Tell me what happened." He heard her quiet
exhale.
"We were here." Riker began. "Just outside.
It was night and the light on this end of the complex
was out. I was trying to open the door, and all of a
sudden it happened all over again."
"What did?"
"The same thing that happened to Katie. Even
faster. I didn't even have time to look at you
before it was too late." He glanced away from her;
out into the room. "I can't let that happen. I
won't."
"Will," she hugged him. "Our minds spin
elaborate scenarios when we're under stress. That
doesn't make them real."
"What happened to Katie was real."
"Yes. But we can't live the rest of our lives
in fear. We have to find the answers and move
forward."
"I can't lose you, sparks, I can't..." he
whispered into her hair.
"And I don't want to lose you, either."
She lifted her head to meet his eyes and Riker
found himself captured. They stared at one another
for an eternal instant.
"What are we going to do?" he asked her
sincerely.
"I don't know," she echoed his uncertainty. Her
luminous eyes regarded him a moment longer.
"Something... But whatever it is, we're going to do
it together."
Riker touched her face with the back of his
fingers. The implication of her commandment gave him
pause. What if he couldn't protect her from whoever
it was that was out there? What if his nightmare
came true?
"What if it's not me at all, Will?" Deanna
seemed to answer his thought; a thought he knew it
was more likely she'd extrapolated from what he was
feeling. "What if the next time ... they don't miss?
Have you forgotten that whomever is out there is
looking for *you*?"
"I know you think I'm being selfish--"
"--Assuming I'd feel any different about life
without you than you'd feel if it were the other way
around?"
Riker cupped her face in his hand and pulled
their mouths together. "I would die for you." he
shut his eyes as her kisses coaxed him closer.
"Then we would both be dead." Deanna's words
were lost to the rustle of their intimate embrace.
--o--
"Has a trial date been set?" A hunched-over
humanoid with a crooked arm hovered like a silhouette
in the shadows.
"Not yet. Soon."
"Good." Whispered sibilance filled the dark
enclosure. "Now perhaps we can move forward."
"The timing is wrong."
"You will do as I say!"
"I told you we needed the woman alive. Now we
may never find out."
"And I have told you, I did not kill the woman.
I don't know who did. But you are also a woman, you
can ... find out in your own way."
"Assuming he knows. He's not what you told me
he'd be. I can't try the same way again."
"Then you will discover another way."
"Guess we're lucky I missed the first shot."
"Perhaps..."
"You think it was more than that?"
"I have learned never to trust in the obvious."
Darkness shivered with the motion of shadows.
"Robert would be proud." her voice dripped
with sarcasm.
"Insolent child. Robert is dead."
"Yes," she purred. "And so will little Willy
be ... by the time I get through."
--------------------
Chapter 117
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"If one is lucky, a solitary fantasy can totally
transform one million realities."
--Maya Angelou
--------------------
"He's gone." Deanna Troi held a
communicator pin in her hand. Her fingers closed
around it, balled into a fist as she stared across
the room at her friend. Doctor Crusher's quarters
fell silent. "I don't know where, I don't know when
... he's just gone."
"Maybe he's just talking a walk?"
"For six hours, Beverly? He's not *walking*
back to the Enterprise!" Deanna scowled. Crusher's
hand on her arm wasn't helping, and she was ready to
throw something ... or worse.
"Do you have any better ideas?"
"Yes!" A step towards one of the giant bay
windows of the suite and Troi turned where she stood.
"He's being an idiot. I should have seen this
coming. Macho, egotistical jerk! Do you know what
he said to me last night?" She didn't wait for a
response. "He said that he had to protect me, that
he couldn't let what happened to Commander Flynn
happen to me. He's made a decision on his own and
now he's off to carry it through in typical Riker
fashion. he's going to get himself killed!" Shaking
off her friend's hand, Troi dropped into a nearby
chair. Beverly followed.
"Deanna, you know Will better than any of us,
but I think I know him well enough to disagree."
Crusher's solemn expression settled. "Sometimes he
takes off for a few hours at a time just to think, on
his own," she smirked. "Granted he does some
galactically stupid things now and then, but running
out in the middle of a JAG investigation would never
be one of them. He's a brilliant officer and an
equally intelligent man."
"Then where is he, Beverly?" Deanna swallowed
the sinking feeling in her chest. "Why didn't he say
anything to me? It doesn't make any sense."
"No, it doesn't." Crusher's thoughtful frown
made Deanna wish she could scream. Suddenly the
doctor looked up. "Wait a second. The two of you
have that .. bond .. right? Can't you sense him?"
"A little." Troi acknowledged. "I can sense
that he's alive. But not his geographical
coordinates ... our link doesn't work like that."
"Can you speak to him? Telepathically? The
way you did on Ony'am?"
"I've tried. He's not answering ... or he
can't hear me." Deanna gripped her hands in her lap.
"What if something's wrong? I keep thinking ... it's
easier to believe that he's gone off on his own,
half-cocked somewhere. But what if they've done
something to him? What if-"
"Who are 'they' Deanna?"
Troi felt her heart thump with terminal force
against the inside of her chest. "I don't know," she
whispered.
--o--
"Where the hell am I?" William Riker squinted
into darkness. His head hurt. A lot. And he
couldn't see a damn thing for the blackness that
surrounded him. The last thing he remembered was
taking a walk on the garden path outside his
quarters. It was early in the morning and Deanna was
asleep. He'd been thinking about her; about them;
about JAG, the murder, the whole goddamned mess and
then... nothing. "Hello?" His voice echoed in the
shadows.
"The prodigal son awakens."
"What the hell is going on? Who are you?"
Peering with renewed energy into the murk, Riker
nearly jumped when he felt a cool hand on his upper
arm from behind him.
"A friend."
"I'll try and contain my joy." Riker twisted
around and reached behind him for where the figure
should have been standing. It was a good move; a
tactical move, and it had won him more than his fair
share of physical confrontations in the past. This
time, however, his hands closed on nothing and he
staggered forward ungainly.
"Be nice. I don't want to restrain you."
"Restrain me?" Riker smirked despite the
predicament. "How tall are you, five-three, five-
four?" He was good at gauging a person's height
based on the proximity of a voice; or a hand on his
arm. Riker found himself flat on his back. He
cursed as his head hit the cold metal floor.
"I'm sorry."
"Not yet you're not." He muttered.
"Think with the head on your shoulders instead
of the one between your legs and you might not end up
on your ass next time. Commander" The voice added
sardonically. "You don't like to hit on girls?
That's not what I'd heard..."
He ignored the double entendre. "Is there a
light in here ... *friend*?" The room exploded into
a pattern of dazzling white squares and bright
splotches. It blinded him more effectively than the
darkness had and Riker threw his hands over his eyes.
"Forget I asked..."
"I apologize for the circumstance. You'll be
all right in a few seconds, once your eyes adjust. I
hadn't intended on hitting you. I would have done
things differently, except I had to get you away."
"Away from what?" Lifting his head for the
first time since his eyeballs felt the sting of the
light, Riker found himself face to face with an
incredibly beautiful, incredibly familiar woman. Her
dark eyes were luminous and he couldn't help
wondering if all Betazoid women had eyes that made a
person feel like drowning.
Her shoulders rose and fell, and she sighed,
"your wife."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 118
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"If there's nothing wrong with me, maybe there's
something wrong with the universe."
--Dr. Beverly Crusher
--------------------
Jean-Luc Picard was livid. He'd been livid
from the moment Beverly Crusher walked into his
quarters and opened her mouth. "How the hell am I
supposed to respond, doctor?" He yanked on his
uniform jacket, staring her down.
"Like a friend for a moment instead of a god
damn robot, Jean-Luc, we're not talking about
Starfleet!"
"Oh, bloody hell," he hissed, turning from her
to the window. "JAG thinks he's running. They've
called me three times this morning, he's officially a
fugitive."
"You know that's not true."
"Do I?" he demanded. "In the span of one
night I have misplaced my first officer, my ship's
counselor has gone AWOL, presumably to find him and
my doctor has just arrived to inform me that she's
joining the exodus. What would you like me to say?"
"Say that you'll come with me."
Picard stared at her. He stared at her until
he was certain she was serious, and then he began to
laugh. "Beverly, have you lost your mind?"
"No." Crusher frowned. "Jean-Luc, I've lost a
friend. A good friend, possibly two good friends,
and I'm just about ready to lose three."
"I have a ship, in orbit. I have officers
under my command who are going about their duty
assignments even now -- as we speak. You're asking
me to jeopardize that?" He wanted to strangle her;
to strangle her and to admonish her for so blatantly
using their friendship -- their feelings -- as a
means to garner his cooperation. Of course he
*wanted* to help. How could he have wanted anything
else? But he was a Starfleet Captain, and right at
this moment, he was the only thing standing between a
JAG court-martial and his suddenly scarce first
officer.
Doctor Crusher hung her head. She looked away
from him and studied some fascination outside of the
great bay window in his suite. "Beverly," He came
forward, placing his hand on her arm. "Two of my
senior officers are absent without leave. Yes, they
are also friends. Yes, I care for their well-being.
But Will Riker does not need my friendship at this
point." His dark eyes softened when she looked up at
him. "He needs whatever help I can offer him as a
ranking officer. Right here. I have to stay..."
"I have to go." Beverly exhaled. "Deanna
thinks he may have been forced to leave against his
will. She can't sense him anywhere nearby."
"Does she know where to begin searching? Have
you any idea where she's gone?"
"No." Crusher's eyes met Picard's and he
sighed. She was obviously lying, but she was doing
it for him. So that he would not be placed in an
awkward position with Starfleet Command when JAG
began questioning Riker's absence.
Beverly turned to leave. It was only then that
he noticed a small had-case bag on a chair near the
doorway. She'd already put together a few things,
obviously. She was ready to go. "Be careful." He
called after her, stopping her progress at the
doorway. They were two words, but they were filled
with more than caution. Crusher nodded, but did not
turn around.
--o--
"My wife?" Riker's blue eyes turned to steel.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Down boy." The woman smiled. "Your wife.
You know, dark hair, eyes a little like mine...
ship's counselor on board your own Enterprise?"
"I know who she is!" Will barked. "I want to
know what she has to do with any of this? And what
your role is, for that matter? Lyss, wasn't it?
Lieutenant Commander..."
"Call me Darya."
"I'll call you a waste of time and walk out of
here if I don't start getting answers."
Riker's eyes narrowed when Darya laughed. That
was something else about her. She was obviously
Betazoid, but she had no accent at all. He could
have sworn she'd the lilting, almost musical accent
characteristic of her people at the preliminary panel
questioning -- so what had happened to it?
"Go?" She smirked. "You have no idea where
you are. Where do you think you're going to go?"
"You're not Betazoid, are you?"
That got her. Lyss threw him a sharp look.
"Because I don't have an accent?" her eyes flashed.
"Okay, you're a telepath..."
"What's the matter? Don't I fit the
archetype?"
He'd been about to respond when he opted
against it. Shutting his mouth, Riker blanked his
thoughts and stared down at her mutely instead.
"Oh, please," Darya sighed. She regarded him
for a moment longer before speaking again, and this
time her voice was just exactly what he might have
thought it should have been, complete with accent.
"Commander," she smiled. "You'll pardon me if I
don't exhibit all of the pleasantries common to my
people."
"What are you?" Riker whispered and took a
step backward.
"The woman who's going to save your life."
"One of them, anyway." A corner of the room
came abruptly to life as the shadow of an all-too-
familiar ghost stepped regally from hiding. It was
biology alone that kept Will Riker's jaw from
clattering soundly to the floor.
"Katie-?" All the breath in his lungs seemed
to evaporate at once.
"Shh." She threw him the same, crooked smile
he once knew nearly as well as his own. "You're
going to get us all into trouble again, Willie..."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 119
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Indifference is the strongest force in the universe.
It makes everything it touches meaningless.
Love and hate don't stand a chance against it."
--Joan Vinge
--------------------
"Very nice." Beverly Crusher whistled low,
under her breath. She watched as Deanna punched
some numbers into a console, apathetic to her
presence. "Do I even want to ask how you got a hold
of this thing?" The doctor's arm gestured outward,
indicating the interior of a vallor-class shuttle
craft. It was Federation in origin, but it was
definitely not Starfleet.
"No." Troi responded simply, then turned and
stood from her chair. When Crusher smirked, Deanna
placed her arms akimbo on her hips. "You think I
stole it?" she rolled her eyes. "I didn't steal it.
I may be married to Will Riker but I'm not quite as
ridiculously insane as he is...yet."
"Hey," Beverly grinned, "I didn't say
anything."
"You know what? Just strap in." Troi shook
her head to clear it of the color she felt creeping
into her cheeks. "We've got a ways to go."
"You can fly this thing? I couldn't fly this
thing..." Crusher mumbled softly. Dropping into a
pilot's chair, she snapped the arm down into place.
"And where exactly *are* we going, anyway?"
Yanking a nearby console toward her, Troi
smiled enigmatically. Her eyes were focused on the
keypad in front of her when she answered both
questions at once. "Yes. And according to my sensor
readouts, we're heading north."
"What sensor readouts?"
Deanna tapped a code into her station and the
hum of the shuttle's nacelles roared to life.
Crusher threw her a look. "Deanna, *what*
sensor readouts?" Her gaze followed Troi's to a
familiar looking cylindrical instrument. It was a
device with only one purpose. The doctor's eyes
widened. "Oh my god, you didn't?" She paused for
silent confirmation before throwing her head back and
laughing. "You did! You tagged him with a pet-
tracker! He's going to kill you."
"Good." Troi turned and frowned. "That means
he'll be alive long enough to try."
"Deanna," Crusher's voice softened. "When did
you have the opportunity to..." she trailed off and
her smile grew wide once more. "Okay. I have to
know. Where did you put it?"
"I'm afraid I can't divulge that."
The shuttle lurched incongruously into the air
and Beverly grabbed her seat for support.
"I thought you said you could fly this thing!"
"I can," Troi defended herself. "When you're
not distracting me."
"Oh, we really have to find Will now." The
doctor cackled softly. "I am not missing the
expression on his face for anything in the universe."
"Beverly?" Deanna turned a sweet smile on her
friend.
"What?"
"Hold onto something."
With the stroke of a console tap, the vallor-
class transport took off through the sky at terminal
velocity.
--o--
"Katie... my god." William Riker took one
giant step forward and then stopped. The woman
before him was not Katherine Flynn. She couldn't be.
Katie Flynn was gone; dead in his arms while he
watched. Riker's eyes turned to steel. "Who the
hell are you?"
"It's me. Will, it's Katie." She took a step
toward him, "now before you go ballistic, I know how
this must seem-"
"Shut up!" Riker snarled. "Look, I don't know
who the hell you are or what you want, but Katie
Flynn died in my arms. I was there. I saw her. And
this little -- charade -- whatever it is, is over."
His gaze shifted from Flynn to Lyss, then back again.
"Will-"
"I said I'm not playing this game!"
"Now that doesn't sound like that Captain
Virtue I know." Katie glared at him intemperately.
"Backing away from a mystery with so little
evidence..."
"What did you say?"
"You remember." Flynn continued her approach,
only this time he remained where he stood. "Captain
Virtue was the name I used to tease you with when we
were kids. You and your dreams about Starfleet. All
those rules and protocols. The way you ran around
pretending you were already a Captain. I called you
Captain Virtue, because you were always so damned
moral about everything."
Riker felt his universe collapse. He'd never
mentioned that name to anyone -- ever. And though it
was entirely possible that Katie might have told her
entire senior class at the Academy, her voice and her
manner just now; everything about her screamed of the
girl he once knew. It reminded him of the woman he'd
only begun to know again. Was it possible she was
telling the truth? That somehow, some way Katherine
Flynn was still alive? Maybe she hadn't died that
night the way he'd thought. There were so many
voices; so many people that night... maybe...
"Will, I'm sorry." Katie reached his position
and placed her hand against his arm. "I never wanted
to do things that way, I never wanted to hurt you
like that, I swear, I-"
"What is this?" Riker yanked his arm roughly
from her grasp.
"We need your help, Riker." Lieutenant
Commander Lyss regarded him with large, dark eyes.
"Help with what?" Riker's head was spinning
and his chest felt like someone had hammered it shut
with a powertool.
"A matter of Starfleet security." Lyss
replied.
"Which is why you hit me over the head?" His
eyes narrowed. "Do you think I'm some kind of an
idiot? That's not how Starfleet operates."
"Oh, Will get off your sanctimonious high horse
for a few minutes and *listen* to what she's saying!"
Katie scowled and Riker rounded on her. "You
have no right to ask me for anything!"
"I have every right!"
"Shut up!" Lyss barked. "Both of you!"
Surprising even himself, Riker's mouth promptly
closed. He glared at Flynn a moment longer before
turning his attention to the Betazoid. "All right."
He spoke calmly. "I'll listen. But you have a hell
of a lot of explaining to do, *lieutenant* Lyss."
"He thinks he's ready for the truth. Do you
agree Commander Flynn?" Lyss crossed her arms over
her chest in a manner remarkably similar to Deanna
Troi when her patience was being tested. It was an
odd coincidence, prompting Will to answer with
attentive silence only.
"Good." Darya smiled, belaying Katie's protest
with a cavalier wave of her hand. "Because I'm not
just a Starfleet lieutenant, *commander*." Her lip
curled into a smirk and Riker noted the damned
annoying way her accent once again seemed to vanish.
"I'm also your cousin."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 120
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The woods were made for the hunter of dreams, the
brooks for the fishes of song."
--Sam Walter Foss
--------------------
Moonlight sparkled like diamond dust on the
shore of a crystal lake. Setting their ship at the
water's edge, Deanna threw up her armrest and flew
from her chair. Her backward glance spawned a look
of surprise from doctor Crusher, but the other woman
followed suit; stepping carefully into the rear of
the shuttle's cargo area.
"We're here?" Beverly asked.
"We're here." Nodding toward the still-
closed exit, Troi placed her hand on Crusher's arm.
"Not yet. Take this." She tossed her a lightweight
jacket that was lined for cold weather. Beverly's
eyebrow rose.
"What's the temperature out there?"
"Thirty-seven Celsius. Below. I'm sure
Will Riker would say it was mild." Deanna frowned
for a moment, considering just how much she loathed
the cold.
For anyone but her damned Imzadi...
Troi snapped a utility belt to her waist
and watched Crusher do the same. They were soldiers,
the both of them, but this was probably one of the
few times in their careers they'd had to dress the
part.
"Do you know where we're going?" The doctor smiled
slightly, more of a tension breaker than an accurate
indication of her emotion just then.
"Further north, I think." Deanna glanced
down at her tricorder. "Not very far."
"Can you sense him?"
Troi shook her head, wishing she could at
least offer some explanation for that fact. The
truth was she should have been able to sense him --
certainly feel *something* -- but all she felt was a
heavy, muted dullness whenever she focused her
thoughts on him.
The good news: it wasn't the horrible
emptiness she would have felt if he were dead. The
not so good news: that he was likely being blocked
from her. And a feat like that would take a telepath
at least as powerful as her mother.
Crusher nodded gravely. "Okay," she
exhaled, "Lets get that idiot back here so we can go
home. Or at least some place where the sun's still
shining..."
Deanna faltered and it was Beverly's turn
to take the counselor's arm. Staring back at her
friend, it was all Troi could do not to wrench her
gaze away. A long silence ensued, and during that
period, Crusher waited for the voice she seemed to
know would come.
"I'm so damn scared," Deanna whispered.
"We *will* find him, Deanna."
Pale blue eyes focused on Troi and she
found herself suddenly grateful for the doctor's
continued sense of hope. It might keep her sane in
the hours to come. "Yes," Deanna slowly exhaled.
"We'll find him," she turned with new conviction
toward the opening cargo door. "Because if anyone's
going to kill Will Riker ... it's going to be me."
--o--
"He's what?"
"He's gone." A woman stepped out of the
shadows, silencing the angry demand. "I told you, I
have no idea when it happened."
"Damn it!" A sharp glass object hurtled
ungainly through the air; it shattered into a billion
shards of sparkling dust on the wall. "I need him!"
"I know that. I'll find him." The woman's
voice was calm. Impassive. She regarded her
companion with stoic understanding.
"You had better, L'reh. I am a man with
very little time left. If I lose the key, I lose
everything. We lose everything." His sibilant voice
changed pitch, rising higher while he spoke.
The woman, L'reh, inclined her head; her
tone soft as she stepped backward into the shadows.
"Have I ever let you down, father?"
A rumbling sardonic laughter filled the
gloom.
--------------------
Chapter 121
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Art is really people asking the eternal question,
'What is it all about?'"
--Gene Roddenberry
--------------------
"Are you telling me that you ... and I ...
are somehow related?" William Riker stepped backward
until the cool surface of a wall slid up against his
shoulder blades.
"Not somehow related," Lyss circled him
slowly, sporting a beguiling smile. "We're first
cousins. There's no question of that," her look
transformed into a smirk. "What's the matter, Will?
Having a problem getting over our ... genetics?"
"Yeah, a little," he admitted, wondering
just exactly what it was about Lyss that made him
want to strangle her so much. She was beautiful and
Betazoid -- both of which were traits he used to
think he admired. "And only my friends call me
Will."
"Now you've hurt my feelings."
"That's assuming you have any."
"Excuse me?" Lt. Lyss stalked forward
until their faces were inches apart. She was so
close that he could smell the shampoo she used in her
hair. "I'm the one who brought you out here for the
sole purpose of saving your ass. I'm risking my life
on this assignment and, our 'familial' attachment
notwithstanding, I don't even know you from adam."
"That's cute." Riker suddenly grinned.
Darya's arms crossed over her chest but her
only reply was a scathing look.
"Your accent. It comes and it goes,"
stroking his chin thoughtfully, Riker opted to pry
further. "And that's the third Earth colloquialism
you've used so far ... 'I don't know you from adam'
?"
"I don't." she shrugged.
"Then why are you blocking me?" Riker took
a small measure of satisfaction in watching Lyss'
startled expression. It lasted only a nanosecond
before her eyes resumed their almost playful
neutrality.
"What kind of a question is that?" She
tilted her head. "You're no telepath. What would
there be to 'block'?"
Will narrowed his eyes. "Then drop it."
"Drop *what*?"
Riker smirked. She knew exactly 'what'.
He leaned back against the wall casually. "Whatever
you want to call it. Like you said, I'm not a
telepath and there's no threat of Kit over there
turning into one either. I'll personally guarantee
that. So why the mental cloak and dagger?" He
looked over at Flynn who'd been watching their entire
exchange with uncensored interest.
For a moment, Lyss returned his sharp
stare. Finally she grinned. "You're a perceptive
man, Will Riker."
"Drop the block." He stood rigid and
unrelenting.
"Where's your wife?" she countered.
"Right behind you." A new voice cut in and
everyone turned.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 122
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Keep an open mind, I always say. Drives sensible
people mad, I know, but what did we ever get from
sensible people? Not poetry or art or music, that's
for sure."
--Charles de Lint, Someplace to Be Flying
--------------------
There was trouble from the moment Darya
Lyss lifted her head.
Standing in silhouette, framed by the dim
light of the only doorway to the room, were two very
serious-looking Starfleet officers.
It was something of an oddity therefore,
when Darya offered each of them a contemptuous smile.
Her gaze finally settled on the shorter of the pair.
"Well, well, well," Lyss fingered the
weapon in her hand.
"What the hell?" Commander Flynn spun
around, her eyes found their focus and she yanked her
phaser from her belt.
"Deanna!" Riker flew forward. His stance
shifted and he moved to block Flynn, but not before
Lyss intervened.
"At ease, Commander." Darya purred,
halting both Riker and Katie as effectively as if
she'd stood in front of each of them -- except she
hadn't moved at all. "Perhaps we should all bend at
the waist," her voice was acerbically deferential.
"After all, we *are* in the company of a Troi!"
"Darya Lyss," Deanna Troi droned. The
counselor walked slowly into the room, followed
closely by a moderately surprised Beverly Crusher.
Eyes narrow, Troi threw only the briefest
of glances in Riker's direction. If there was one
thing Will himself had taught her, it was the folly
of giving away one's personal feelings in the
presence of potential hostility.
"Lt. Commander Darya Lyss, to you," she
corrected. And you can stop right there ... *Daughter
of the Fifth House*." The weapon in Lyss' hand
shifted slightly.
Troi paused. Obediently halting the
doctor's progress, she kept their distance several
meters away. "What are you doing here, Darya?"
"Following orders. What does it look like
I'm doing?" Lyss laughed darkly.
She also held a block in place that must
have placed great strain on her psi ability. And
that wasn't the only thing Deanna noticed about her.
"You can't believe I joined Starfleet, can
you?" Darya smirked.
"You two *know* each other?" Riker's voice
interrupted as he shoved past Katherine toward the
center of the room. His eyes, however, were always
on Deanna.
"There isn't time for this!" Flynn barked.
"Look, you shouldn't have come here," she glared at
Crusher and Troi, "either of you.."
"Then I suppose you shouldn't have
pretended to be dead!" Deanna's voice betrayed her
anger for the first time since she entered the room.
Troi rounded on Flynn until she felt Crusher's hand
on her arm.
"Deanna-" The doctor's soft voice halted
the counselor in her tracks.
"She's not Starfleet, Beverly!" Troi's
scowled, but not at Crusher. "What she is doesn't
deserve to qualify as Starfleet." Deanna marched
forward, turning her back on Lyss.
Apathetic of the weapon still trained on
her, Troi took several measured strides in Riker's
direction. Darya wouldn't fire. Not yet, anyway,
and she was going to get Will out of this place well
before anyone might be tempted to try.
"He's not going anywhere." Katie Flynn
stepped between Troi and Riker, holding out her
hands. "And since you both decided to drop by
unannounced," her eyes found Crusher. "Neither are
you."
This time, it was Riker who spoke. "Katie,
don't you think you're a little outnumbered to be
making threats?"
A slow, satirical smile touched the corners
of Darya's lips. "You know something Deanna, for a
great looking guy, he's a little slow on the uptake
... I'm disappointed in you."
Deanna's hands clenched at her sides, eyes
locked with Lyss'. "That's right, Darya. Why don't
you GIVE me a reason to wipe that smirk off your
face? He can't even begin to imagine the kind of
bullshit you're trying to drop on him and you think
it's FUNNY?"
"Oh come on Deanna! You worked in JAG for
almost two years. You can't be that naive. You know
very well what will happen if you three try and walk
out of here. Believe me, I'd love to let you go..."
Troi's only answer was a silent scowl.
"Commander Riker," Darya Lyss turned on a
dime and patted Will's shoulder infuriatingly. "What
your lovely wife is trying to say is that this
situation extends well beyond this room and your --
obviously inflated -- ego. So here's the way it
goes," her Earth accent was back full force. "You
can either cooperate with us, or you can die. And
Commander Troi's opinion of me not withstanding, I
can assure you that I truly am Starfleet and I'd
really rather *not* have to throw you back to the
wolves. You ... or her." She smiled sweetly at
Deanna, who looked as though at any moment she would
be the one doing the killing.
Riker turned to Troi and met her gaze. She
wished she could sense him, but Darya's block was
still firmly in place and in the midst of so many
other concerns, she hadn't even addressed the issue
of removing it yet.
"So!" Lyss sucked in a loud, annoyingly
smug breath of air, regarding each of her 'captives'
in turn. "Commander Troi, Cousin Riker and..." her
eyes fell on Beverly, ignoring Deanna's incredulous
response to her address of Will.
"Doctor Crusher," the CMO of the Enterprise
provided gravely.
"Doctor Crusher!" Lyss beamed all too
cheerfully. Her eyes suddenly hardened and her voice
dropped an octave. "Welcome to section 31."
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 123
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to
give birth to a dancing star."
--Friedrich Nietzsche
--------------------
Deanna Troi sat alone. She sank to the
floor with a thoughtful, though obviously
uncomfortable look on her face. For several instants
after Lyss' startling confession, the room was
deathly silent.
Not a moment after the words left her lips,
Darya pulled doctor Crusher aside. The two women
spoke in hushed voices and it was anyone's best guess
what they were talking about.
Under other circumstances, Riker might have
intruded on their conversation. If it weren't for
the certainty he felt that Beverly Crusher would
share whatever she was told. As it was, he had
something just a little more immediate to attend to.
The room was fairly sterile. There was
only one chair and it seemed bolted to the center of
the enclosure. Walls and floors were unadorned. If
he'd had to take a guess, Riker would have sworn that
they were in an interrogation suite. Now that he
knew who their company was, a guess like that didn't
seem so far off the mark, either.
"Section 31?" Falling to the floor next to
Troi, Will folded his hands on his lap. The first
words he'd offered her, and they were a question of
what else she knew that she'd managed not to tell him
until now.
Deanna looked straight ahead. She didn't even
acknowledge his presence.
"Sparks?" He turned toward her,
frustration and anger dissipating as he examined her
features more clearly: Eyes normally dark were pale
by comparison. Her face was drawn and she seemed
lost in thought.
"Why did you go with her?" Deanna turned
without warning. Her eyes found his, but her voice
was devoid of emotion.
Go with her? She thought he left with
Darya Lyss? That he took off in the middle of the
night without a word?
"What are you talking about?" Riker
frowned. "I didn't *go* anywhere with anyone. I
went out for a walk, I was hit from behind and the
next thing I knew ... I was here." When she didn't
respond, he touched her face. "Deanna. Come on.
You know me better than that, I think! I hope. We
had a deal, remember? No more one-sided decisions.
Did you think I'd just break my word without a
moment's hesitation? Right after we-"
She turned from him and he felt -- perhaps
through a gap in the block Lyss threw up -- as though
she wasn't answering because she knew he wouldn't be
happy with the truth he discovered.
"You did. You thought I just left. Just
like that." Will lifted his hands in the air, a
silent gesture of his thoughts. "Well, that's
great." A sidelong glance was all he was able to
offer. "So much for trust."
"You can blame me?" Troi rounded on him,
her voice a harsh whisper. "You can sit there and
blame me for examining the details of your
'disappearance' in the midst of all this? After what
you said to me?"
"You're damn right I can!" Riker scowled.
"Look," tearing his eyes from her gaze, Will exhaled
carefully. "This isn't the time or the place to have
this out, but you can be damn sure this conversation
isn't over."
"Fine," was all she would say. Her head
tipped sideways and her shoulders rose and fell.
"You know," Riker sighed. "I sincerely
hope, for the sake of a lot more than this situation,
that you're going to tell me everything you know
about Darya Lyss and section 31." Riker raked one
hand through his hair, absently frowning. His eyes
locked with Troi's. "In the span of a few short
hours, I've lost an old friend and then discovered
she faked her own death. I've met a woman -- a
Betazoid woman, mind you -- who claims she's my first
cousin! And now I've apparently been drafted into
section 31, alongside my *pregnant* wife," he
emphasized, "and our ship's physician."
"How the hell is she your cousin?" Deanna
muttered, seemingly oblivious to the rest of his
statement.
"I don't know!" Riker shook his head.
"I'm pretty sure she was about to tell me when you
showed up."
"Oh, well, my apologies." Deanna gathered
her arms across her chest and looked away.
"Deanna, look I'm sorry. You didn't
deserve that. We're all on edge here and to be
honest, I'm a little less sure of myself than I was a
few minutes ago because I've suddenly got a hell of a
lot more to lose in this room." His eyes found hers
and they were darker than before. A modicum of her
usual fire had returned. She said nothing, so he
pressed on. "What do you know about Lyss?"
"Very little," Troi acknowledged with a
sigh. "She was a civilian law student articling on
Earth when we met. I was working with the JAG office
as a junior lieutenant for the psych team and she was
always doing research. To be honest, I was thrilled
to see someone from Betazed when we first met. We
got along well for about five minutes..." Deanna
scowled slightly, then shrugged. "Until she found
out my last name and she's despised me ever since.
I've never understood why and I never really bothered
after the fourth or fifth time, I just moved on. We
had a few clashes while we were in the San Francisco
office. She claimed to loathe Starfleet. Which
didn't make any sense to me considering she was
articling with JAG. I honestly thought she *was*
Starfleet until she proclaimed otherwise. Now all of
a sudden she's wearing a uniform and working for the
dark side..."
"The dark side?"
"That's what we called 'them' back then.
Some kind of ancient throwback to a catch-phrase on
Earth. Section 31 was always a part of the JAG
process. They were in and out of almost every
investigation, and their people were everywhere. We
never knew when or where they'd stick their noses in.
No one said anything because that's just the way it
was. They did their jobs, as loathsome as we found
them, and we did ours. End of story."
"But it wasn't. Was it?"
"It was for me." Deanna smoothed her pant-
leg and sighed.
"And you had no idea all that time that
Lyss was working for," he smiled slightly, "'the dark
side'?"
Troi threw him a tolerant look and smiled
back. Almost. "No. And to be honest, Will, I really
don't think she was working for 'them'. At least not
then."
"So something changed," Riker nodded
slowly. "Do you think she might be telling the
truth?"
Deanna stared at him, taken aback. "I -- I
don't know. I sensed no duplicity in her, if that's
what you mean."
"I think so," Will glanced across the room
where Lyss, Flynn and Crusher were engaged in a
slightly more animated discussion. "I wish I knew
what they were talking about."
"So do I." Deanna frowned.
It was in that instant that Lyss looked
over and met both their eyes. A slight smirk touched
the corners of her lips. In a visceral moment, she
lifted the block she'd placed, winking at Riker and
without so much as a second glance toward Troi.
Will cringed at the rush of sensation. It
wasn't painful, exactly, just sudden -- and he was
barely used to the day-to-day ability to feel
Deanna's presence.
He felt her hand slide sympathetically
inside his and noticed the scathing look she threw at
the seemingly oblivious Lt. Cmdr. Lyss.
Lyss suddenly turned and glowered back --
at Troi alone. Knowing Deanna, she had evened the
playing field somehow. But precisely what had
transpired between the two Betazoids, Riker would
never be sure.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 124
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
Listen to the DON'TS.
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS,
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS.
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me.
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be."
--Shel Silverstein
--------------------
"Oh, isn't this sweet?" Lt. Lyss smirked as she
approached the Riker-Troi confab. Doctor Crusher
and Commander Flynn were with her, but the Betazoid
kept her eyes focused solely on Will and Deanna.
"Don't you two look every bit the happy couple.
Congratulations, by the way."
"Thank you." Deanna beamed; obviously
playing Lyss for all the moment was worth. "I guess
that makes us family, doesn't it?"
"For as long as we're alive..." Darya's
eyes narrowed.
"Watch it, Lyss." Katie Flynn stepped
forward and placed her body in front of the younger
Betazoid's. "We have a mission to accomplish and
even I'm getting tired of your attitude."
The two held eye contact while Riker and
Troi rose to their feet. It was an interesting
scenario to watch because it afforded Riker a rare
glimpse into the relationship between his 'old
friend' and her new companion -- a woman who called
herself his cousin.
At first, he'd been fairly disbelieving,
but it was becoming more and more obvious that Darya
Lyss carried enough emotional baggage to qualify in
spades as a member of the Riker clan. And she had
the attitude down pat as well; an attitude Riker
himself had worked a lot of years to mollify.
Deanna might have said it was evidence of
his success that he was able to examine the trait on
another person this way. She might have said it, if
she wasn't so obviously disenchanted with Lyss,
herself.
"The way I see it, Lt. Cmdr. Lyss," Riker
emphasized her rank, "you and section 31 can go
straight to hell unless we get a few answers.
Starting with exactly how you and I are related.
Sound fair?" He pinned her with a look that dared
defiance, but Lyss merely shrugged.
"Grandpa Robert." Darya's dark eyes
flashed. "Next question."
"Back up." Riker countered. "Back way up.
Because as near as I remember, my Grandfather never
had a serious relationship in his lifetime."
"Which you were there for all of..." Lyss
shifted forward and tilted her head in a way that
made even Deanna raise an eyebrow.
"Okay." Riker nodded and traded a look
with Troi. "So? You've got something to add.
Talk."
"Oh jeeze." Darya sighed loudly. "I can
see this is going to be the long, drawn out kind of
story that starts with 'once upon a time'..."
"Did your parents drop you as a child?"
It was Deanna who asked the question, and
Riker couldn't believe his ears. Their empathetic,
always concerned counselor had definitely left the
building. He cleared his throat and shot her a look
of reproach; one she effortlessly ignored.
"Both my parents died when I was ten."
Lyss glared back. "And why don't we start with that
'Daughter of the Fifth House', since you're the
reason!"
"I beg your pardon?" Deanna gasped.
Both women squared off in the center of the
room and Riker was almost absurdly fascinated by the
way they both were acting. He'd never seen Deanna
this way, for one thing -- well, except with him and
usually when he deserved it.
Lyss was just as livid. Perhaps moreso.
The two Betazoids circled one another like a pair of
wild cats.
"Whoa. Whoa. Hang on a minute!"
Mercifully for them all, Beverly Crusher was not so
taken with the spectacle. Stepping between imminent
claws, she traded a scathing look between both
parties. Finally, her gaze settled on Darya. "You
want to explain yourself Lt. Lyss?"
"Yes. Please do." Deanna placed her hands
on her hips. "Because I think I can fairly safely
guarantee that I was in grade school when you were
ten, lieutenant. Unless you're a hell of a lot
younger than you look."
"You didn't even recognize my family name,
did you? Not even after we met."
"Should I have?" Troi shook her head
incredulously.
"I don't know, should you? The all mighty
'Fifth House' is responsible for the lives of four
hundred Betazoid families every year. My parents
were sent to Earth because your *mother* signed the
dispatch!"
"My mother has no authority to send anybody
anywhere." Deanna retorted, but her voice fell in
decibel and she looked more confused than angry.
"None of the Houses have authority, the orders come
down from the Chancellor and the elected government
office. All we do is sign off for the sake of
tradition."
"A tradition that condemned my family to
die!"
"What?"
"The government knew! They knew what would
happen to my mother if she came here. But they sent
her anyway..." Lyss' eyes were dark fury and her
fists were clenched at her sides. "My mother sent
letter after letter to your House, *begging* the
great Lwaxana Troi not to reassign my family. But
there was never an answer." Darya trailed off,
walking around the solitary chair in the center of
the room. She suddenly stopped and lifted a wire
from the obtuse-looking device attached to it. "You
know they killed my parents only four months after we
arrived?"
"I don't understand." Troi whispered. She
was shaking her head, obviously distraught and Riker
came up behind her, placing his hands on her
shoulders in silence.
"Oh, you don't understand. Okay. Well,
that makes it right then. Sorry I bothered you...
your *highness*."
"Don't call me that." Deanna looked up.
"Why not? Isn't that what a 'Daughter of
the Ten Houses' deserves? Aren't you royalty?
Aren't you a hell of a lot more important than the
rest of us poor idiots who don't parade around all
day defining our collective existences with
philosophical bullshit!"
"Stand down, Lieutenant!" Flynn reached
for Darya but the Betazoid threw her off, still
livid.
"I grew up in Federation orphanages my
whole life! So why don't you keep telling me what
*not* to call you, Daughter Troi!"
Deanna turned away from them all. Slipping
from Riker's proximity, she moved without thinking.
She looked about to turn and confront the issue when
a torrid explosion rocked the confines of the tiny
room and the door blew apart without a trace.
All bodies fell backward and Riker lunged
toward Troi. She was the closest to the blast and he
hooked her waist in his arm, yanking them both to the
floor.
Before any of them could move, it was clear
that they had company.
Four Romulan officers, dressed in full
military regalia, stood peering through the smoke and
debris. They could barely see as yet, but that would
change in less than a minute.
"What the hell?" Riker hissed, helping
Troi to her feet. Crusher rose slowly behind them.
"Get out of here!" Lyss pulled a weapon
from her belt and carved a hole in the opposite end
of the enclosure. Belaying any protest, a new wave
of acrid smoke and dust poured into the air. Only
this time it had company.
Frozen wind began to whistle through the
room. Its hollow moan preceded a fall of jagged snow
and ice as Lyss herded them all backward.
"I knew there was something I could do with
all this anger." She smirked with practiced self-
assurance. It was a very familiar gesture. One that
made Riker suddenly certain she *was* family.
Then her eyes fell on Troi. For a moment,
neither moved, and Will was ready to intervene -- but
for the first time since he'd seen the two of them
together, Riker saw no malice in Lyss' expression.
"Flynn!" she tore her gaze from Deanna,
turning away at the same time.
"Three kilometers north-east." Katie
called back. Already she, Crusher, and Troi had
begun climbing through the still-gaping hole.
"Lyss, lets go!" Riker called over his
shoulder, the last one out, but Darya only smiled.
"Get out of here cousin," she waved him
back with her weapon, "this isn't going to be
pretty." When he didn't immediately obey, she fired
at the gap above his head, sending a shower of new
ice toward him.
Muttering a swift expletive, Riker threw
himself through the gaping maw and tumbled down the
slope after the other officers.
In the distance, he could hear the bone-
chilling screams of several men at once. They were
howling in a way that made his heart freeze solid
inside his chest.
Whatever Lyss was doing, it seemed
unthinkably effective. The only thing was -- and he
was positive of the fact -- there hadn't been a
single shot fired from the moment he tumbled through
the hole.
--o--
--------------------
Chapter 125
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind."
--------------------
"Keep going!" Katherine Flynn called ahead of
her. Four officers took off through the snow and
were heading toward what appeared to be an enormous
mountain.
Catching up with Troi and Crusher, Riker
moved between them. Wordlessly, they slowed their
pace until finally Riker stopped all together.
"Will, what are you-?" Flynn turned to
regard him, hands on her hips.
"Save it Kit." Riker pinned her with a
look. "I think you and I both know there isn't
anyone coming after us right now. So why the rush?"
"We don't know that for sure." Katie
argued.
"Yeah, Kit. We do." He shook his head.
"And I for one am not taking another step until you
tell us why you're hiding what Lyss did back there."
With a backward glance at Crusher and then
at Troi, Riker confirmed he had consensus. Deanna's
gloved hand slid quietly into his, but it was the
only outward indication of the empath's affiliation.
Her face remained as impassive as his.
"Look, Will, even I don't know-" Flynn
began.
"You're lying Katie," Riker frowned.
"She wiped them, didn't she?" Deanna
disengaged her arm from his and stepped forward.
When Flynn said nothing, Troi dropped her gaze.
"Mother of the gods.."
"Hey, Counselor," Katie Flynn suddenly
scowled. "Lt. Lyss has a way of doing things you may
not agree with, but her methods have saved my life
more times than I can count. I've stopped trying."
"Do you know what it does to someone when
their mind is wiped?" Troi moved forward slowly, she
walked right up to Flynn and stopped. "Do you know
what happens inside here?" Indicating her own head,
Deanna pinned her gaze on Katherine. Flynn turned
away first.
"Okay. Look. We need to focus here.
We're still breathing right?" Riker exhaled, trying
to ignore Deanna's horrified backward glance. "It's
done, Deanna. Energy weapons, phaser fire or ...
whatever else Lyss used ... they're dead and we
aren't. Now we need to concentrate on keeping it
that way."
"I can't believe you just said that!" Her
mouth fell open and she shook off his hand when he
moved to place it on her arm. "No," Troi scowled.
"No, Will."
"Deanna-"
"No!" Stalking away from the group, Troi
walked toward the mountain on her own.
Riker sighed and raked his hands back
through his hair. He wasn't dressed as well as the
rest of them, and despite his Alaskan heritage -- the
cold was beginning to get to him.
"You know she's right, Kit." Will turned
his gaze from the retreating figure of his wife and
regarded Flynn. "And I won't put her off again next
time. Not for Lyss and not even for you."
Flynn stared at him for a moment. "You
know what you can do with your sanctimonious
bullshit, Riker."
"Call it whatever you like." Will turned
to Crusher just as she was about to go after Deanna.
"Doctor," he placed his hand on Beverly's arm.
"I'll go."
Their eyes met and Crusher nodded
wordlessly.
"Hey, Captain Virtue!" Flynn called over
her shoulder as she and Beverly began walking once
more. "You see that dark spot about half a kilometer
north of here on the rock face?" She tipped her head
toward the mark. "That's X. That's where we're
headed. By my calculations, you have about half an
hour before Lyss gets back and starts breaking
things." Her look turned into a half smile. "If you
don't freeze to death out here first."
--o--
Deanna stood with both arms crossed over
her chest. Hands on her shoulders, she huddled in on
herself, but only the steam of her breath betrayed a
chill in the crisp winter air.
When Riker came up behind her, she neither
moved nor spoke. He knew that she could sense what
he was feeling; their link was no longer blocked.
But she was choosing to ignore the way he felt, in
favor of the words he spoke.
"Sparks..." His hand hovered over her
jacket, fingers nearly touching before he released
the motion, dropping his arm to his side.
"Our world was in a very dark place when we
fought with psi-soldiers on Betazed." Troi's soft
voice sounded distant while she spoke. The history
she recounted seemed as vivid as though it were her
own past. Perhaps it was; after centuries of
teaching through the mind. "We were in a place of
death and hatred. One we swore we would never return
to."
"We've had a few periods like that on Earth
as well." Riker dropped his own gaze. "If you nix
the part about the psi-soldiers. The violence
remains. But as a result of not only our history,
but yours and so many other worlds, to this day there
are certain things the Federation won't resort to, no
matter the cost."
"Except for section 31." Deanna turned
when his hand finally did touch her arm. She looked
back at him with wide, sad eyes. "They're apparently
exempt from such simple compassion."
"Deanna, you know I agree with you." His
touch moved down her arm and she turned to watch it,
absorbing his words. "You know that. But what is
there out there that's black and white?" Her gaze
lifted and he shook his head helplessly. "What Lyss
did may have been horrific. I won't argue that, but
what do you when you're faced with death? When it's
you or it's them and the only weapon you have is-"
"I don't know!" Troi shivered. "Just not
that. Not that..." He drew her into his arms,
holding her close as much for his own warmth as for
hers. "You're freezing.." She whispered against his
thinner starfleet jacket.
"I'll be okay if we get inside." Riker
smiled nonchalantly at her worried expression. "I
guess I didn't have much time to pack before we came
out here."
"I'm sorry." She hugged him again and he
drew his arms gratefully around her body. He knew
what she was apologizing for, and he also knew that
this wasn't the place for it.
With a slow exhale, Riker pulled carefully
from their embrace. "Time for that later." He
lifted his hand and touched her nose affectionately,
running his finger along the edge of her cheek.
She smiled.
He'd been about to comment further when she
threw her arms around his neck and hugged him again
with surprising force. It was a release of the whole
day's tension.
The padded gortex lining of her jacket
squished against his torso and Riker's arms encircled
her slight frame as he held her fiercely against him.
A warm ache suffused his chest; the kind he always
felt when she was near.
Will shut his eyes and let her slip inside
his mind; accepting of the gentle need she'd barely
expressed. "God I wish you weren't here." His
whisper caressed her hair. "But I'm so glad you
are."
Troi said nothing. She clung to him while
the frigid wind howled at their backs. The
temperature was falling for the night, and there
would likely be a storm. But for Riker, right now,
in the circle of Deanna's arms -- there was no longer
any sense of the cold.
--o--
------------
Chapter 126
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"You begin by loving and you go on loving and loving
teaches
you how to love. And the more you love, the more you
learn to
love."
--St. Francis de Sales
-----------
They sat around a small fire, hands bent to
the task of keeping warm while each of the five
officers glanced warily at one another.
Lyss was back. She'd joined them in their
'cave' shortly after Will had returned with Deanna.
And though she hadn't said a single thing when she
arrived, Riker saw her look away from Troi's silent
accusation. The two made eye contact, and then Lyss
had gone off by herself.
What was even stranger, was the way Beverly
Crusher was acting. She'd hedged one query already
as to what she and the officers from Section 31 had
discussed -- and Riker was beginning to wonder
exactly when the answers to any of his questions
would be forthcoming.
He opted to turn to Katie this time.
"You know there was a time when I cared a
lot about you, Katie Flynn." Riker pinned her with a
cold, sharp look. He felt Deanna stir beside him,
but she said nothing -- not even in his head. "Are
you ever going to tell me why you did what you did?
Or do I have to assume you're a heartless bitch and
move on?"
Flynn exhaled slowly, then traded a look
with Lyss. The Betazoid merely shrugged. "Okay,"
Katie nodded. "You're right, Will. You deserve to
know the truth."
"I think I need some air." Lyss announced
unexpectedly, rising from her place on the dusty
floor.
"What's with her?" Crusher tipped her head
quizzically, watching the silent retreat of the
obviously stoic Betazoid. Katie sighed.
"She can't be here when I tell you. What
I'm about to say is considered classified
information. I'll be violating a number of fairly
serious regulations and it would be her
'responsibility' to report my indiscretion to the
section. She knows that." Flynn looked after Lyss
with obvious admiration and Riker raised an eyebrow.
He turned to Deanna as he so often did without
thinking, hoping to trade a response -- but she was
watching Lyss as well and hadn't noticed the gesture.
"Okay," Riker turned his gaze back into
the group. "She's gone. So talk."
Katherine's green eyes flashed. "When we
first met, you thought I was fourteen years old."
"What?" He looked up in surprise.
"I was nineteen." Flynn answered softly.
It played counterpoint to the visible rise and fall
of her throat when she swallowed. "I'd just finished
cadet training at the Academy."
"You mean that you-" Riker shook his head
emphatically, "you were already-?"
"I was already in Section 31 when we met."
The cave suddenly felt like it was closing
in on all sides. He met Crusher's eyes first and
they were gentle but unsurprised; she'd already
known. He couldn't believe that. She'd known before
he had. That must have been part of the conversation
Flynn had with her earlier. But if that were the
case, what *else* did she know?
Turning to Deanna, he was grateful as hell
for the look he saw in her eyes, and for the way she
seemed to be feeling. She, at least, was just as
surprised as he felt.
"Katie, if that's true then that means that
you and-" Riker clamped his mouth shut, staring away
for a moment as a vile image from his own past
intervened.
Deanna's small hand slipped unnoticed into
his and he felt the gentle stirring of something warm
and familiar brush his consciousness. It served as a
source of calm, if only a little. But he was almost
loath to accept it.
"Will, I know this is hard and ... please
believe me when I say that I never ever wanted
anything to happen to you. If I'd known-"
"That's enough!" Shifting backward with
violent force, Riker scrambled to his feet. He
yanked his fingers from Troi's and stared down at
Flynn as though he could convey the depth of his
hatred with only a look. It wasn't nearly enough.
"That's enough," he whispered again, casting a
glance in Crusher's direction.
This time, even she seemed taken aback.
She didn't have a clue what they were discussing and
that was just fine with him.
"Will," Flynn forged ahead seemingly
unconcerned with consequence, "I was very young.
Idealistic. I thought it was a great honor to be
recruited by the section..."
"You used me." He spat. "For god only
knows what disgusting purpose." Yanking down on his
jacket, Riker made a rude noise. "I suppose you're
going to tell me that you and Marcus Wells were
lovers?"
"No!" Launching herself to her feet, Katie
advanced with murderous intent. "That ... monster
was nothing more than a cog in a wheel."
"The way I was? Play the kid for a cheap
thrill?"
He had stopped seeing Troi and Crusher all
together. Single-mindedly focused, Riker and Flynn
stared directly at one another.
"Believe it or not Will Riker you were the
only thing that kept me sane through any of what I
had to do!" Katie's eyes shone in the firelight and
her voice dropped as it began to fail her. "I--I
was--ordered to-"
She trailed off as Riker's eyes widened.
He stared at her for a moment, then tore his gaze
from hers. "Jesus Christ." He yanked his hands back
through his hair. "Jesus fucking Christ, Kit!" His
head lifted and their gazes locked again.
For an interminable eternity they were both
silent. But Riker finally whispered: "Who gave the
order?"
She didn't respond. His hand flew forward
and he grabbed hold of her wrist.
"Who gave the order, Katie!"
"Robert!" Wrenching free of his grasp,
Flynn rounded on him, eyes wide and dark. "Robert
Riker gave the order."
Will felt his heart slam firmly into the inside
wall of his chest.
"He was my commanding officer," she went
on. "And he's the reason you're here right now."
--o--
------------
Chapter 127
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"If you aren't ready to die, then how can you live?"
-----------
"My grandfather is trying to kill me?" Will
Riker traded a glance between the entrance to the
cave and his former lover. It seemed ridiculous;
ridiculous enough to be true after the last few days.
But Katie was already shaking her head.
"Robert is dead, Will. He died a long time
ago."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that Robert Riker was my CO." Her
stance shifted and she placed her hands on her hips.
"He gave the order, but he gave it to an officer. It
wasn't just me, it was the role I was chosen to play.
And he saved your life that night. Whether you know
it or not, he saved both our lives."
"He wasn't even there." Riker turned where he
stood. The cave wall seemed suddenly fascinating and
he studied it briefly.
"He was there. Who do you think took Marcus'
body? We just left him for dead..."
"He *was* dead..."
"So was Katie Flynn." A voice behind them
intervened, causing all eyes to turn. Lyss had
reentered the cave. She stood, arms akimbo, directly
in the light of the entrance.
"What the hell do you know about that night?"
Riker marched forward, standing nose to nose with the
smaller Betazoid.
Unintimidated, Lyss met his gaze dead on. She
neither smiled nor frowned before she whispered,
"enough to know that you're in way over your head and
you don't even realize how far."
Breaking eye contact was the first thing Riker
did. The second thing was to clench both hands at
his sides. Lyss had been trying everyone's patience
from the moment she'd marched bold-faced into their
lives. What's more, her tactics were so transparent;
she had to be doing it on purpose.
Riker scowled; whatever fascination he may have
held for her personality receded quickly to the
background of his thoughts.
"I have had enough of your vague meandering,
lieutenant!"
"Well isn't that just too bad." With an
incredulous smirk, Darya Lyss began to circle his
prone position. "You're lucky we told you this much.
It's in a lot of people's best interests to toss your
arrogant Starfleet ass under lock and key right now
cousin Riker. There are admirals in the section who
think I should have tied you up and thrown you in a
stasis bin already..."
"I don't give a damn what you *think* you
should have done-"
"You should." Flynn interjected, "she
disobeyed a direct order bringing you out here like
this."
"Then why didn't she?" Beverly Crusher asked.
She and Troi stood next to a pile of glowing, phaser-
burnt rocks providing heat to the tiny enclosure.
For a fleeting instant, it occurred to Riker to
wonder why neither of the two had said a word in the
interim. It was only for a moment.
When he noticed Deanna's expression he knew
exactly why. She'd been trying to glean some mental
response from either Lyss or Flynn; using the
distraction of the argument as a means to pry
unnoticed. It was a practice she almost never used
and one she rarely condoned. But it seemed she'd
found some sort of answer, because the expression on
her face was absolutely neutral.
"Marcus Wells is alive." Katie Flynn spoke
softly. Her eyes found Will's and remained there as
silent exclamation.
"That's impossible!" Riker couldn't help the
backward glance he threw at Troi. Her expression was
inscrutable, but there was a moment; an instant when
her head seemed to tilt. It was a slight but
unmistakable affirmation.
She hadn't sensed a lie.
"He's alive?" Riker rounded on Flynn, then
Lyss. "How? I saw him die."
"He was injured. Never dead." Katie sighed
and clasped her hands. "Robert dragged him out of
the mission-suite right after we left. He was taking
him back to the 'Avalon' when-" She paused. "Marcus
pulled a phaser from his utility belt and shot him
point blank in the back. Robert never saw it
coming."
Exhaling the last of his breath, Will Riker
backed against the wall of the cave and leaned
against it for support. "I never knew-"
"You weren't supposed to know." Lyss shook her
head.
"Robert was section." Katie shrugged. "He was
high up the ladder. They halted the mission and
called back to regroup."
"But they never did..." Riker whispered.
"Oh yes they did." Darya strode forward and
placed her hand on the cave wall next to Riker's
shoulder. "Wells was the target. 31 had him pegged
as a double agent for the Romulans, selling tactical
data during the civil war on Cerrus." Her lip curled
into a smirk. "They were wrong."
"Robert found new information. He'd only
shared it with one admiral back at the section before
he died." Flynn's green eyes flashed as she traded a
look with Crusher. "It appeared that Marcus Wells
wasn't working for the Romulans. He *was* Romulan."
"Is Romulan." Lyss offered a beguiling smile.
"Is Romulan." Flynn shrugged. "Either way he
disappeared right after the incident on Cerrus. No
one saw him again."
"If he was gone, then why would the section
care?" Riker frowned. "And why re-open a murder
investigation when they know their victim never
died?"
"31 didn't reopen the investigation." Lyss
answered. "JAG did."
"JAG took their cue from the section. They
were set up to reopen that case and you know it. The
advocate general's office certainly didn't *plan* for
the very convenient 'death' of Commander Flynn..."
Deanna spoke this time. Her voice was quiet as she
moved to stand next to Will.
"Perhaps." Darya smiled.
"But what the hell does any of this have to do
with me?" Riker shook his head.
"Fair question, cousin." Lyss smiled. "Marcus
Wells wasn't a spy for the Romulan. He was an
operative on a mission. His mission was-"
"To take out the entire human race in two
generations." Beverly Crusher came forward, standing
between Riker and the Betazoid lieutenant.
"As we've already informed your doctor," Darya
nodded, "There is a virus enclosed in the Ketrion
explosive device on the third moon of Cerrus. The
device you dismantled was set to go off 'by accident'
and deliver a fatal quantity of the pathogen into the
atmosphere of the planet below. It would have been
harmless to the residents, but fatal to the human
genome. The Romulans hoped to have the virus
undetected only long enough for it to spread to
Earth..."
"...and wipe out everyone." Crusher finished
for them all. "That pathogen is still up there in
the dismantled device, Will."
"And you've got the cure." Lyss moved from the
wall and placed her hands across her chest. "That's
why Marcus wants you dead. That's why the section
wants you locked away. You're a key to the cure.
And whoever controls that cure, controls the fate of
the human species."
"I don't have a clue what you're talking
about..." Breathing slowly, Riker lifted his hands.
"Funny. That's exactly what I said when the
section came to me." Darya lifted her gaze. "Robert
Riker had a box made before he died. Inside that
box, he placed the antigen and the dataPADD with the
chemical ingredients of the compound. The problem is
the lock. He genetically encoded it with e 'Rikers
only' stamp. But it gets better. Apparently, he
didn't even trust himself. He added one final code.
The necessity for a Betazoid/Human hybrid. That
left my mother, daughter of Robert Riker and the
empath Senna Lyss. It left me, as the child of a
full Betazoid father and a quarter Betazoid mother.
And it left you, as Kyle Riker's son with the empath
Elisabyth Qwenn. Quite the photo album, don't you
think?" Lyss began to pace slowly, hands at her
back. "Now my grandmother is dead. Marcus murdered
*both* my parents... and he would have gone after you
as well, I think, had he known your mother was
Betazoid. But that dubious fact seems to have been
blurred by your father. I have to tip my hand to him
for that..." She paused and shrugged in far less
affected a manner than she was obviously feeling. "I
guess that just leaves you ... and me ... cousin
Will."
"I don't believe this..." Riker whispered to
himself.
Darya turned to Troi and spoke softly. "He's
going to repeat that," she winked. "I did."
"I don't believe this!" Will's voice rose with
each word as he marched toward the entrance to the
cave.
"Told you." Lyss shrugged at Troi's look of
disapproval.
"Where are you going?" Commander Flynn started
after him, stopping only when Darya's hand fell on
her arm.
"Air." Riker called over his shoulder. "I
need air. Just give me a minute."
"You've got five." Lyss yelled back. "Any
longer than that and those Romulans I dispatched over
the hill are going to divide and multiply. I suggest
we're not here when that happens."
As Flynn's pursuit relaxed and Lyss released
her shoulder, Deanna slipped quietly past both of
them, walking slowly to the sunlight and the snow.
Katie stared after her tracks. "You wouldn't
let me go out there. Why didn't you stop *her*?" She
turned to Darya.
Lyss shrugged. "He wants to see her."
"How do you know-" her words trailed off at
the look on Lyss' face. "Forget I asked."
--o--
------------
Chapter 128
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold
story inside you."
--Maya Angelou
-----------
They'd broken into teams. No sooner than Troi and
Riker returned from the cold, the matter of solving
just exactly what happened with Robert Riker's legacy
became paramount. The problem was that neither Lyss
nor Riker had any idea where the 'box' in question
had been hidden.
It seemed an untimely paradox. Section 31 had
assumed the Riker family held the secret -- or at
least the location -- of the box in some kind of
clandestine trust. Doubtless that was precisely what
Marcus Wells also believed. The hitch was that no
one seemed to have any idea where to begin.
That was when Will had begun to consider more
than their obvious options. The Riker clan was
notoriously fond of the cold. Frigid northern places
that made even the boldest of humans cringe in
anticipation. For years, Will felt it was simply a
'family tradition'. Heaven knew he had always loved
his home in Alaska.
But maybe there was more to the location than
simply a fondness for white. Perhaps the
inhospitable nature of the climate was also the
perfect place ... to hide a secret. And if that was
the case, then Will Riker had a plan.
They were only a few miles from the lake where
he grew up. And there was one place he was certain
Marcus Wells, the Tal'Shiar, Section 31 and anyone
else who might have been wont to start looking hadn't
found. If he was right, it might even be exactly the
place they were looking for. Except he still hadn't
decided whether Lyss was completely trustworthy.
She'd certainly saved their lives, but family or not,
she was also a dangerous woman. And if he knew her
motives as well as he might have guessed he did, she
could sell them all up river if it meant the better
for her own situation.
Not to mention she was Section 31 ... No, he'd
have to bide his time. Keep things simple and find a
way to talk to Deanna in private before their
'journey' got underway.
As it was, there were only three of them now.
Katie Flynn had left with Beverly Crusher. The two
were on their way to Starfleet headquarters in San
Francisco, ostensibly to begin dealing with the
possibility of a fatal pathogen on the future of the
Federation -- at least in channels which would assure
as inauspicious a solution as possible. Flynn had
also agreed to accompany Crusher when she informed
their Captain of the crisis.
It had taken some convincing to get the two
section operatives to agree to that last part. In
truth the memory still made him smile. Especially
when he recalled the consequence with which Deanna
threatened the other Betazoid when she refused their
request. He'd never seen fear in Lyss' eyes before
that moment, though it was gone almost as quickly as
it arrived. Still it was a victory for Troi, and she
had taken no small measure of satisfaction from it.
He hadn't begrudged her that, either.
Now they were alone: himself, Deanna Troi and
Darya Lyss who had gone off with a sling-full of
equipment on her own. Her excuse had been to contact
an individual whose assistance she insisted they'd
require once their mission was complete. And though
she wouldn't tell them who that was or why she had to
leave their cave to establish the comm, Riker neither
asked nor cared. Because it would give him the time
he needed to speak with Deanna.
So it was that when Darya commanded they 'wait
here' for her return, Riker offered no resistance at
all. And once she was gone, he turned his eyes and
his stance toward Troi.
"What is it?" she asked, clearly curious of
his mood.
"I think I know where Robert hid that box." He
smiled offhandedly, hoping he looked a hell of a lot
more confident than he felt.
"Are you sure?" She picked up on his frame of
mind and frowned.
"No. But it's the best lead we've got right
now. I didn't want to say anything while Lyss was
here." His eyes met hers and for the first time in
what felt like hours, she smiled.
"She's easy to dislike." Deanna nodded. "But
I don't think she's lying to us. She hasn't yet, at
least. I think she wants the same thing you do. She
could have handed you over to the section by now ...
gone after the box on her own ... but she hasn't done
that. And I think it's more than your help that
she's after. I think she feels a kind of kinship
with you, on some level."
Troi's thoughtful frown became a thin line
between her lips. It was characteristic of her when
she was concentrating, and it was also one of the
'little things' that he had always found particularly
endearing in her expressions.
"Well, you're the counselor.." He couldn't
help grinning, though he knew she'd chide him for it.
"Don't patronize me, Will."
"I'm not!" He raised both hands defensively.
"Listen, I've been meaning to ask. Just how did you
manage to find me out here, anyway? I wasn't wearing
anything even remotely traceable when they took me.
Believe me, I looked." Off Troi's somewhat guilty
expression, Riker's eye shot up. "Deanna?"
"It's a long story. I really think we should
discus it later..."
"Okay." He agreed through narrowed eyes.
"Fine, but you are going to tell me one of these
days."
"One of these days..." Her lip curled up at
the edges.
They spent the next several minutes discussing
the possibility of his plans for locating the box and
agreeing to wait at least a short period of time
before bringing Lyss in on the option. It seemed
their safest bet, at least for now.
In the interim, the cave was growing colder.
And after only a brief respite between them, Deanna
shivered where she stood. "You know Will," she
remarked offhandedly. "When I said I might like to
see the place where you grew up, this wasn't exactly
what I had in mind."
"You don't like it?" He feigned offence,
gesturing at cold stone walls on every side. "We
used to have the couch over there but I think we
burned it one year for heat..."
She smiled at him first. The kind of smile she
normally reserved for those all too frequent moments
when she hadn't planned on finding him amusing. An
instant later, the musical sound of her laughter
echoed softly in the gloom. It warmed him in a way
that moved beyond description, filling his spirit
with the presence of her.
Riker walked to where she was standing,
wrapping both arms around her trembling body. He
laid his chin atop her hair.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as silence reclaimed
them.
"I was only teasing."
He felt her shrug; her smaller arms detained
securely beneath his brawny embrace.
"I know that," Riker sighed and let her go,
drawing his hands up and down from her shoulders as
she backed against the wall. "But I still am."
Deanna said nothing, simply watched him with
the darkest pair of eyes he'd ever known. She
slipped inside his thoughts and there she hugged him
in a way that put to shame the kind of physical
encounters he'd once craved.
Her way was abstract; less tangible and yet
more real in every way that mattered. He felt his
heart beat faster, his body warm to boiling, even in
the cold. That was always his response to her
wordless declarations of love. From the very
beginning, she'd held him hostage with a look.
Unfortunately, he was never as good as she with
the magic of the mind. And when she touched him like
this, she knew it made him desperate to touch her.
Often more than that ... but they were stranded in a
cave and so a kiss would have to do.
He moved toward her and she settled with her
back toward the wall, her black eyes always on him.
He hadn't said a thing and didn't have to. That was
the part he loved. The way she knew, without a word.
The way she loved, without a touch. But he needed to
feel her now.
She knew that too.
Dipping his head, his lips brushed tenderly
over hers. She closed her eyes and melted backward
as their mouths moved slowly together. His hands
were on her shoulders and then her neck, in her hair;
he cupped her face between both palms, arresting her
breath with every sigh she released.
How long they remained that way; touching in
mind and body, became inconsequential. A figment of
the liquid emotion which flowed between them. They
merged without concept of time, living in abstract
... until the sound of a throat cleared purposely
behind them.
--o--
------------
Chapter 129
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the
mysterious."
- Albert Einstein
-----------
Riker and Troi disengaged.
"Oh don't mind me," a voice from the cave
entrance interrupted their clinch. "I'm just here to
see if you two need any clean towels." Lt. Lyss
stood smugly with her hands on her hips.
Turning with deliberate slowness, Riker left
his wife's arms and exhaled tolerantly.
Deanna for her part, seemed wholly unaffected
by Darya's comment. She remained in place, standing
so that only the look in her eyes betrayed a modicum
of annoyance.
"Your 'friend' have anything useful to offer?"
Troi came forward. "You've been gone for nearly an
hour."
"As a matter of fact," Lyss moved confidently
inside. "I'm afraid that's confidential
information."
The two women came nose to nose as Lyss walked
all the way to where Troi was standing. They were
nearly the same height and almost the same build.
Then again, most Betazoids were slightly smaller than
their human cousins. Riker cringed at the mental
pun. Lyss' size was arguably average.
Watching Darya square both shoulders, he
prepared to intervene in any further argument when
Deanna suddenly lost what he'd mistaken for control
on her anger and began to laugh.
Apparently, she'd never been angry at all. In
point of fact, it seemed she'd let go a great deal of
her earlier hostility just prior to their latest
'discussion' in the cave.
"You know what, Lt. Lyss?" Deanna shook her
head, still amused. "I think it's wonderful that
you've been entrusted with so much 'confidential'
information. How about we don't bother sharing at
all? You can take your confidential information and
head out in whichever direction you'd like, and
Commander Riker and I will go our separate way.
Sound fair?" She turned to Riker. "I think that's
fair, don't you?"
This was one of those moments when disagreeing
with Deanna was bound to invoke the 'wrath of Troi'.
Riker knew that as well as he knew the look in her
eyes. Not to mention he happened to agree with her.
And since there was little of value he felt he could
offer the current predicament by intervening on Lyss'
behalf, he opted for the truth and shrugged lightly.
"More than fair."
Darya's dark eyes flashed. "You're both
idiots," she scowled.
"Apparently," Deanna beamed, "ignorant idiots.
But that's not to be helped, is it?"
With narrowed eyes, Lt. Lyss began to circle
the cave chamber. She finally rounded on Troi and
snapped her fingers, pointing triumphantly. "Parsons
versus K'Tay, 2360..."
"Ha!" Deanna smirked. "No precedent. One of
them was a senior officer on a mission assigned by
the admiralty," she saw Lyss smile, "and if you
claim for even an instant that you've got either
seniority or command of this mission, I'm taking your
precious cousin and we're walking right now."
"Excuse me?" Riker was totally lost. Not only
did he suddenly feel as though he'd become a
commodity, but both women were apparently ignoring
him while they continued an argument with a back-
story he'd never been brought in on.
They continued to disregard him.
"All right." Darya scowled. "I tell you only
what I can. What you need to know--"
"That was me who wrote your performance
appraisal in 2361." Deanna glared back, both hands
on her hips. "I took it from Lt. Craig. Finish your
law degree did you?"
"Shit." Lyss exhaled loudly, following the
breath with a string of curses in several languages
even Riker didn't know. She turned from both of them
for only a second, then spun on her heel. Clenching
both hands at her sides, her furious expression
transformed from anger to cold determination.
"Commander Morgan flies a Valor-class s-and-r.
He knows these mountains better than anyone alive and
he's been in and out of a Romulan prison camp twice.
I offer that as motivation only," her dark eyes
flashed at Troi. "He's our ride out of here when
we've got the box. Until then, he's just another
pretty light in the sky. Meantime we've got a team
of seven, maybe ten Romulans on our six right now.
Their drop point seems to be the interrogation
building. How they found out about it is still a
mystery, but if I had to take a guess I'd wager Wells
is not this far north. I think he will be. I think
he's coming, probably with more operatives, but he
isn't here now. That buys us time. A day or two at
most until they realize who killed those soldiers."
Deanna paused for a moment, considering what
she'd heard. Her eyes averted as she finally began
to nod. "We think we might know where that box is."
Riker turned toward her, clearly shocked.
They'd had an agreement and she'd just walked all
over it. His expression, he knew, spoke volumes --
as did the look in hers when she turned. She was
playing a card. A card she felt she had to play.
And if the tables had been turned; if he'd been the
one with the card and needed her to trust him when he
played it, he'd probably have given her the self-same
look.
Irritation turned to acceptance as he nodded
slowly. She seemed relieved; as though she hadn't
been certain he'd give her the trust she was
requesting. There were obviously still a few things
they needed to iron out where that was concerned.
But that would have to wait for later. Much later,
it appeared.
"I had a feeling," said Darya, stowing a
survival cell in her belt.
"I think there's a chance my father may have
hidden the box." Riker agreed, finally entering the
conversation. He traded a look with Troi, then turned
to Lyss. "Out near Klutina lake where I grew up, I
know of several places -- with all due respect to
your 'Commander Morgan' -- that no one would have
thought to look."
"I stand corrected," Darya shrugged, clearly
pleased, "I'm sure Commander Morgan's expertise is
second only to yours."
"Yeah, well -- I'll need to go up alone."
Riker belayed Troi's protest with a glance. "It'll
slow us all down if we travel as a group. I know
where I'm going and how to get back, even at night.
If you two head out along the river toward the
Devil's Elbow, I can meet you there in twelve hours.
You know where that is?" Again he looked to Lyss.
"I've studied the maps," she nodded.
"Good. Then you can keep those Romulans off my
ass." He smirked, avoiding Deanna's gaze. "If you
don't see me back in twelve hours..."
"We're coming after you."
He'd thought the words might have come from
Troi. They came from Lyss instead. But both stood
side by side in solemn agreement, for once. If only
he'd been carrying a camera...
"That was going to be the rest of my sentence."
Riker grinned.
Lyss dropped her pack and rummaged through it
before tossing him a brand new yellow jacket and a
utility belt with nearly a day's worth of supplies.
Examining its contents briefly, Riker threw her
a look of grudging admiration. The belt had most of
what he'd need for a short trip through the Alaskan
countryside. And the small bag which followed,
landing in a heap at his feet, seemed to contain the
rest. She'd done her homework well.
Donning the garments, Riker pulled down on his
jacket to tighten the straps. "You two behave while
I'm gone?"
He saw Deanna scowl, but Lyss was clearly
amused. She said nothing as Troi came forward and
grabbed hold of both ends on the pack he wore --
pulling them them hard.
"I was kidding.." Riker croaked. In her eyes,
he saw the worry she refused to acknowledge.
If they'd been alone, he would have kissed her.
Hugged her at least -- given her something to crush
before he walked out into the snow. It was a ritual
with them before a mission, even on board the
Enterprise. But not while there was company...
Riker glanced at Lyss, then back at Troi.
"Come back in one piece," was all she would
say.
"Aw the hell with it." He mumbled under his
breath, scooping her slight form all the way forward,
he kissed her long and hard, then spoke against her
breathless face. "Be good." He turned to Lyss. "I
mean that."
Darya smirked. "I promise, her royal highness
won't break a nail."
"Not as long as there are so many other things
around here for me to break." Deanna smiled sweetly.
It was in view full view of such mental imagery
that Riker left the cave, trudging skillfully into
the deep snow. With only one backward glance, he
found himself reasonably certain that the real danger
on this mission was probably not going to come in the
form of a Romulan hunting party...
------------
Chapter 130
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone
and spread your spirit, till you yourself are a sail,
whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff."
- Annie Dillard
-----------
"So where did you put it?"
They'd been walking through the snow for hours
-- side by side, though neither gained on the other
and fewer than four words were spoken since they'd
left the cave. That was why it came as a surprise
when Darya Lyss began asking questions.
"What?" Deanna stopped and turned.
"The pet-tracker," Lyss said. A crooked smile
tipped the corners of her lips. "Doctor Crusher told
me. I have to hand it to you, using a non-com device
like that -- not something your average kidnapper
would search for. It was definitely ... creative."
"Yes, well, I'm glad you're entertained."
Scowling briefly, Troi redoubled her effort and
trudged farther into the deep snow ahead of them.
For a time, they walked in silence, but for
reasons beyond Deanna's comprehension, Lyss seemed
oddly fixated on having a conversation.
"There's only ten kilometers left," she tried
again, "Two hours at most."
It was their distance to target she referred
to. Ten kilometers until they'd reach a portion of
the river known as "The Devil's Elbow". Aptly named,
Deanna thought, considering the treacherous incline
it flowed through.
Her legs were stiff and tired and she felt as
though the chill of the snow had worn a hole through
the gortex of the jacket on her arms.
"There's another cave. It'll be deeper than
the last. Warmer once we light some rocks." Lyss
looked sidelong over her shoulder.
What was it with her? Nothing but bitter
diatribe from the moment they'd run across one
another again and now all of a sudden she was making
small talk? Deanna met her glance in silence.
"Look," Darya's cadence fell, "I'm sorry if you
think what I did to those soldiers was wrong...it
couldn't be helped."
"I wasn't aware I'd shared my opinion." Troi
shrugged.
"Oh you shared it all right. You shared it
with this side of the telepathic known universe. You
think just because I grew up here in this mental
back-water of a planet, I can't sense it when someone
drags my psychic butt through the mud?" She smirked.
"You know me well enough by now, or at least you
should remember..." Lyss continued.
"Tell me something, Lieutenant," Deanna kept
walking, "When were you ever *not* angry at the
universe?"
Lyss clamped her mouth shut, glaring back in
defiance.
"I'm sorry your parents were killed." Troi
went on, chasing a loaded silence. "But I'm not the
reason it happened."
"You sure as hell didn't help."
"I was a child!"
"That's not an excuse!"
"What do you want from me?" Deanna turned in
her tracks. "Please. Tell me so that we can move
on. What do you hope to gain by this?"
"You don't remember?" growled Lyss, "or you're
choosing to play dumb because it suits your royal
character?"
"Oh, please! This conversation is over."
"Like hell it is!"
Lyss flew at her. Claws bared, she attacked
head on and with a sudden ferocity that caught Troi
well off guard. Tumbling backward into the deep
snow, Deanna wedged her hands against the ice and
rolled forward, returning the favor.
The two went down in a tangle of fury as Darya
took temporary advantage of her position to lunge for
Troi once more.
Mechanism taking over, both officers rolled
with the hit and emerged half-standing. But Deanna
held her ground; a frozen statue while Lyss advanced
again.
They were only a meter apart, breathing quickly
and covered in the dust of frozen water crystals.
"You fight like a woman," Lyss said, smiling
cat-like before yet another hit. "Worse. Like a
woman in Starfleet."
Troi managed to block. "That is what I am,"
she shrugged. But Lyss took her down the next round
and she landed on her back with a painful grunt.
"I can teach you to fight." The other
Betazoid's dark eyes flashed. She extended her arm
in a gesture universally regarded as an offer to aid.
"I'm not interested in fighting." Deanna
stared at the hand in front of her face, then shoved
her own palms backward, forcing herself onto her
feet. She ignored the offer.
"That was then."
"This is now, and fighting still solves
nothing."
"You obviously let *someone* teach you
something. You used to stand there with your mouth
open. Now at least you've got good reflexes. Some
martial arts *I* haven't even seen before. You just
don't have any technique."
Troi frowned dispassionately. "Are you going
to try and kill me again? Or can we keep moving?"
"Afraid I'm right...?"
Deanna rolled her eyes and turned, proceeding
back onto the snowy riverbank.
"Afraid of the awful, wild Betazoid child --
raised here on Earth with all these barbarians? The
poor thing; she has no idea she's supposed to smile
when someone kicks her in the teeth..."
Troi offered no response, opting to walk rather
than talk. She kept up her pace and heard Lyss when
her footsteps approached from behind.
"It's too bad," said Darya, "I'm thinking 'you
coulda been a contenda'!"
That stopped her. "A what?" Deanna forced her
lips into a thin line. It was safer than smiling at
the odd accent. Though that was exactly what she
felt like doing, despite their argument. "And my
husband is one of those 'barbarians' you mentioned.
If I had a problem with this race, believe me I
wouldn't have married the poster boy for humanity."
"I like that." Lyss grinned. "Okay then.
Come on Commander," her eyebrows rose and fell.
"Indulge me. I teach you to fight. Right here. I
promise it won't take more than ... twenty minutes,
how's that? Twenty minutes of your life and I
guarantee you it'll change things forever."
Staring back at Darya, Deanna sighed deeply. "If I
agree to this, then you don't wipe the next batch of
Romulan soldiers we encounter. Whatever happens, no
psi-warfare of any kind. Is it a deal?"
Lyss' mouth fell open, then shut again. Her
eyes narrowed, but she smiled. "You got it."
"All right then," Troi glanced down at her
chrono, "by my estimate, you have nineteen minutes
and fifty-nine standard seconds left, Lieutenant."
/=/
Deanna was on her backside in fewer than four
standard seconds.
"You're not anticipating!" Lyss barked,
circling Troi's prone body in the snow like a
predatory animal. "You're waiting for me to do
something before you move. You can't do that, you
have to think first."
"I'm thinking," Deanna growled, "that we only
have fifteen minutes more of this... psychosis."
"Thank you Counselor," Darya smiled, "I'll be
sure and add this day to my repertoire of personal
dysfunctions," reaching down, she hauled Troi to her
feet and then shoved her backward. "But not for
another fourteen minutes."
"Joy," Deanna droned.
"Now think. If I move, if I stop, if I
*blink*, you can anticipate where I'm going to
attack. Forget Starfleet. Forget the rules of
engagement, civility, etiquette and any other
bullshit bit of tap-dancing they teach you at the
Federation Academy - this is real. This is life and
death. Yours if you don't act first."
"Are you sure your grandmother was Betazoid and
not Klingon?"
"Sorry to disappoint. But I'm three quarter
Betazoid. One quarter Human. And the closest I've
ever been to a Klingon was at lunch in the mess-
hall," she smirked, "Didn't you date one?"
"You're well informed," Troi glared back, "for
a mole."
Lyss hit her. This time, she managed to
block. It was only in retrospect -- while she
watched the other woman hop out of a snow bank back
onto her feet, that Troi realized she'd anticipated
the motion. Maybe there was something to this, after
all...
"Good!" Darya nodded, "Now FIGHT! You've got
your martial arts from the Academy - or wherever the
hell you picked it up - and if you keep thinking like
you just did there, you might just live through your
next brawl with a Klingon lover," she offered a
particularly derisive smile.
Troi lunged for her on reflex. Reacting purely
to the depth of her own anger, she engaged Darya Lyss
in a length of combat that took them well beyond
their twenty-minute limit.
"Is this what it was like, sleeping with one of
those monsters?" Lyss pressed on maliciously. "Bleed
a lot? That turn you on? Does my cousin slap you
around before bed?"
Deanna was driven purely by wrath. Perhaps for
the first time in her life, she gave in to it
completely. The two officers sparred until Lyss
suddenly folded backward, crumpling to the ground
while Troi stood over her; madder than hell.
"Get up," she growled.
Lyss glanced at the snow, then back at Troi.
Shoving both hands into the drift, she looked about
rise, but her leg flew out at the penultimate moment
and Deanna fell forward with an angry cry.
"I told you to THINK!" Darya shoved Deanna
backward. The two went down in a tangle of limbs,
order in combat abandoned to rage.
"This isn't about thinking!" Troi gasped for
air. Sliding up on her arms, she leveraged for
better posture, but Darya was on her again in a
moment. They fought until it was clear that neither
could rise unless the other moved aside. And there
they froze; angry eyes locked.
"Then or now. It was never about thinking,"
Deanna gulped a quick breath of icy-frigid air.
:::You're right,::: Lyss responded
telepathically, :::you know exactly what this is
about,::: and then she kissed her, hard.
--o--
------------
Chapter 131
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The universe is full of magical things, patiently
waiting
for our wits to grow sharper."
-----------
Darya Lyss pushed backward first. Thrusting
herself through the thick, deep snow, she regarded
Deanna Troi for a moment of stunned silence.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," she scrambled to her feet,
"I'm so sorry..."
Turning where she stood, Lyss crossed her arms
over her chest and paced restlessly. Her cheeks were
a bright crimson color, though whether from the cold
or her her fairly strong sense of mortification,
Deanna wasn't sure.
"I am so sorry," she repeated.
"Darya--"
"I have no idea where that came from," Lyss
stammered on, "I don't know how--"
"Darya--" Rising slowly to her feet, Deanna
dusted the snow from her body, watching as Lyss
continued to circle "It's all right."
For one surreal moment, both of them stood
there; staring mutely.
"Damn it," Darya grabbed a handful of her hair
and pulled it backward. "That was not what I was
going to say--" her lip might have curled into a
smile, except she held most of it back.
"If it makes you feel any better," Troi
returned the gesture, "you're not the first woman
who's ever kissed me. All though, I have to admit,"
she cleared her throat, "I've never been in quite
that circumstance before..." Her gaze fell to her
powder-covered jacket and pants.
"Are you okay?" Darya asked quickly.
Troi frowned in puzzlement.
"You're pregnant," Lyss blurted, then flushed
at Deanna's answering look. "I didn't realize
until..."
"Yes." Deanna's shoulders rose and fell.
"I wouldn't have suggested the lesson if I'd
known."
"I'm fine," she exhaled softly. "I think
there's enough snow here to cushion a shuttle crash,"
her gaze turned wry and she paused for a moment, "Do
me one favor?"
"I guess I owe you that," Lyss smirked.
"Don't tell Will?" Moving forward, Troi rolled
her eyes at the look in Darya's. "I meant about the
fighting lesson. He worries..."
"You have my word."
"Thanks."
An awkward silence descended on them while Lyss
looked up and down the riverbank. Apparently, she
was gauging the distance they still needed to travel.
It looked that way, at least, but Deanna knew there
was more to be found in her far-off look than simple
calculation.
"So," she began, "Commander Flynn seemed
awfully reluctant to return to San Francisco with
Doctor Crusher."
Lyss nodded. "She watches my back. We've been
on a lot of mission assignments together and she's
not the kind of person who likes to leave in the
middle of a fight."
"I think it's more than that."
"What more is there?"
They started walking again, and this time it
was Troi who offered conversation. "You've lost a
lot of people you've cared about in your life. It
mustn't be easy for you to--"
"Look," Lyss spun round, "counselor," she
sighed. "Deanna, you and I go back. If our
reputations hung on a wall next to eachother, mine
would say I'd always been a bitch and yours would say
you'd always been a princess." She sneered at the
flash in Troi's eyes. "And I mean that in the nicest
possible way. That's just who we are. It's not a
mystery and it's not a psycho-active result of our
childhood one way or the other."
"Do you really believe that?" Deanna had to
run to catch up with the obviously uncomfortable
Betazoid while she trekked at triple speed along the
edge of the stepp riverbank.
"What I believe is that nothing is ever
certain. People come and people go, and in the end
it's you and it's this--" her hands spread wide as
she indicated a dessert of drifting snow behind them.
"--that's what I know."
Deanna was quiet. "I'm sorry." She finally
whispered, sending a puff of moist breath into the
frigid air.
"Well, that makes two of us. We're going to be
late for the rendez-vous with your poster boy for
humanity if we don't hurry up."
"That isn't what I meant."
After what seemed an interminable span of
`nothing', Troi finally cleared her throat.
"You know there's really not much risk in
talking to someone you're likely not going to see
very often."
Lyss seemed to consider. "A counselor to your
dying breath, aren't you?" She smiled wryly. "Maybe
you're right. But the last time I checked you were
married to my cousin. I suppose there's no
accounting for taste," her eyes flashed as she met
Troi's. "But I just met the big lout. And that
means we've got a whole *whack* of catching up to do
if by some fluke we happen to make it out of this
alive. You and I may even run into eachother on
social occasions every now and again."
"The gods forbid!" Deanna quipped dryly. She
was awarded with a wry smile from Lyss.
"You know you're not so hard to take when
you're up to your elbows in snow, your highness..."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Troi leaned
forward to catch her breath for several seconds.
"Oh, it was."
Grumbling as they began to move again, Deanna
forced her feet forward with each new step. "I don't
know how anyone could ever *voluntarily* live out
here!" she scooped up a handful of snow and tossed
it angrily aside.
"Ask your mountain man," Darya shrugged, "he
seems to love it."
"Believe me, I will..."
They trudged on in silence for several minutes
longer before Lyss turned again and smiled wickedly.
"So, where *did* you put it?"
"Put what?"
"That pet-tracker. You didn't think I was
going to let something like that go, did you?"
Deanna smiled but made no comment.
"Come on, we're trapped out here in the middle
of a frozen waste-land, we've been walking for hours,
the least you can do - for old time's sake - is give
me a cheap thrill."
"He's your cousin!" Deanna laughed
indignantly.
"So? What? I just met him. And besides, it's
not him I'm interested in, it's the *idea* of the
plot..."
"There was no plot."
"So where is it?"
"I'm not telling." Troi shrugged. "You'll
just have to guess."
"That could be dangerous." Lyss grinned and
Deanna glanced sidelong at her.
"I'll take my chances," she offered up an
enigmatic smile.
//
------------
Chapter 132
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"To be surprised, to wonder, is to begin to
understand."
-----------
Riker fell to the ground in a crouch. There
were four Romulan soldiers standing bold-as-brass
outside the front door to his childhood home.
Despite the fact the cabin was most certainly
empty, they were scouring the perimeter of the
property as though their sub-commander had lost a
contact lens.
"It isn't here!" One of them growled. A stout
male officer turned angrily toward the front door.
In that moment, Riker realized the entrance to the
home he'd grown up in had been forced open and was
standing ajar.
They'd broken into his *home*? The place of
his birth... the room where his mother had rocked him
to sleep as a baby? Oh no they hadn't...
Riker rose slowly to his feet, still covered by
the dense forest at his back. He'd nearly taken a
step forward when something stopped him.
It was a niggle. One of those tiny inexcusable
feelings a person got when things just didn't 'seem'
right. The kind of thing he often liked to rely on
Deanna for -- her sense of right and wrong being
uncannily accurate when it came to these sorts of
encounters. But she wasn't here right now, and his
own sixth sense would have to do. It was telling
him to get the hell back onto the ground and wait.
Exhaling softly, Riker took his anger out on a
damp twig instead, silently snapping it into multiple
pieces of equal size. The good news was, his gut
feeling turned out to be right.
Just as he'd returned to a crouch, three more
officers emerged from the entry to the cabin and
stopped. The seven of them congregated for a
discussion that he was unable to hear. When it broke
off, all seven moved to stand at attention. Their
proximal bodies flickered in the frozen air and they
vanished in the wake of an alien transporter beam.
It was several long minutes before Riker moved
from his position.
Protocol dictated that he give their departure
enough time to grow old; to minimize the risk that
they'd return, or worse, that they'd still be
scanning for signs of life even after they'd gone.
And he could only guess where they had beamed to.
What he did know for a fact, was that it was a
marginally certain they wouldn't have a ship in
orbit. Not near Earth. Not inside the perimeter
grid of the Federation's sovereign planet.
That being the case... it meant they had to
have a base nearby. Something, somewhere that they
were cloaking. Maybe Lyss could add something to
his hypothesis at the rendezvous point. Providing he
got there in time. Providing he found that box...
The box.
Riker emerged from the woods and made his way
toward a spot he hadn't visited in nearly twenty-six
years.
--o--
Shifting shadows rolled across a spartan
enclosure when a woman stepped forward. L'reh Vehel
was exceptionally beautiful. Large green eyes and a
slanted oval face belied a kind of youthful innocence
that many human men had succumbed to over the years
of her service to the Romulan Empire. It was to be
both the curse and the gift of her half-human
heritage ... she didn't look Romulan at all. Save,
perhaps, for the slighter size of her body frame.
But there were many human women who were small for
their species.
"Your failure is not acceptable!" An angry,
hollow voice echoed in the darkness and L'reh sighed.
"We have not failed."
"Then where is the key?"
"Father..."
"You think for an instant, child, that your
endearments will stop me from trading your life for
your failure?" Dark narrow eyes emerged from the
gloom but L'reh was unimpressed. It had always been
this way. From the time she was a child.
"You will have your key."
"I had better."
"Riker has disappeared. But we will find it,
regardless. I have soldiers in the northern
hemisphere, even now--"
"And tell me, L'reh. Would you trust these
'soldiers' with your life?" The wicked voice
sneered.
For a time, L'reh was silent. She finally
pressed her fingers together in a gesture of
acquiescence and turned.
"The key, my daughter," he reminded softly, his
voice disappearing into the dimness even while he
spoke. "The key is more important than you or I or
any of them. The key is everything..."
--o--
------------
Chapter 133
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The mystical is not how the world is, but that it
is."
------------
"It seems to be getting colder," Deanna Troi
covered her arms with her hands. She rubbed them up
and down, frowning at the small pile of glowing rocks
which provided the only heat to the cave in which she
and Lyss had taken shelter.
"I'm sorry," Lyss seemed genuinely apologetic,
"we can't get much more heat in here or we'll run the
risk of being detected."
"Remind me to lodge a formal complaint with
Section 31 when we get back to San Francisco," Troi
smiled wryly, then tipped her head. "You don't seem
cold at all."
"Nope," Darya plucked up her shoulders and
grinned. "And between the two of us, you're the one
who should have more stamina. If -- as your people
are so fond of claiming -- intolerance to cold is
such a biological Betazoid trait. I'm only one
quarter human."
"My people?" asked Deanna, picking up on the
first part of her sentence rather than the last.
"Your people," Lyss confirmed. "I don't have a
people."
"How can you say that?"
"Have you forgotten that I was banished? That
my whole family was sent to this place-- this--"
"Was it really so bad? Being here on Earth?
So horrible that you've hated a whole planet ever
since?"
The question sat with Darya Lyss for several
silent moments. She seemed to contemplate a response
before she hopped to her feet and kicked at a glowing
rock.
"No. Not this planet. It's the only home I've
ever known. But for the death of my parents?" Her
gaze lifted. "That seems enough reason to hate a
whole people, yeah. You don't think so?"
Deanna sighed. "Darya, what happened to your
family was tragic and it was wrong. I won't deny
that. But I can assure you it was never a deliberate
act on the part of Betazed..."
"You're wrong, Deanna. You're dead wrong."
Cold eyes found Troi's while the other woman shook
her head. "You still don't get it, do you?"
"I understand that you're angry and you're
bitter, at me perhaps more than most other Betazoids-
-"
"Counselor, there's a universe full of angry
people out there, and I really don't want to talk
about being one of them. All right?"
Deanna clamped her mouth shut and smiled.
"What?" asked Lyss, a slight frown evident on
her delicate features.
"I'm not sure I should say..."
"WHAT?"
"All right," Deanna exhaled, "just a moment
ago, when you gave me that look and said what you did
... it was precisely what Will would have said," she
paused for emphasis, "exactly the WAY he would have
said it."
"And that amuses you?" Lyss frowned.
"Yes."
"I don't get it."
"You don't have to," Troi shrugged, "I just
thought it was endearing, that's all."
For a long moment, Lyss looked as though the
concept of their entire discussion had thoroughly
perplexed her. "Well I'm thrilled for you Counselor.
Or Commander. Or whatever the hell you want to be
called. That's just great."
Deanna returned her look with one of simple
acceptance. "As long as you've stopped calling me
'your highness', I think we'll get along just fine."
Lyss turned away in a huff and moved to unpack
a ration of their supplies. "Speak for yourself,"
she muttered under her breath.
--o--
They'd been working at extracting a dataPADD
from a utility pouch when Troi suddenly looked up. A
low hum whined outside the cave entrance. It was
followed by the telltale sound of footsteps.
Turning to Lyss, she saw the noise had not gone
unnoticed by either of them.
At first, Deanna had considered that it might
be Will. She hadn't sensed him, but he was due to
arrive in fewer than thirty minutes. One glance at
Darya, however, and all the hope she'd felt slid
heavily into her feet.
::Stay quiet:: Lyss whispered in her thoughts.
::What is it?:: Troi crouched in the darkness.
::If I'm right, that was a Romulan transport
signature:: Plucking a phaser from her belt, Lyss
tapped it once. Set to kill. She glanced at Troi
and her lip curled up on one side. ::Sure you won't
change your mind? It would only take a few
seconds...:::
Deanna stared back at her. ::No psi warfare of
any kind. You agreed.::
Darya's face fell and her mental sigh was
louder in Troi's mind than any physical one could
ever have been. ::Oh, all right.:: she shrugged
physically. ::But you have to help this way. I
can't take them both out on my own.::
Both? Adjusting her mental keel, Deanna let
her senses extend beyond the safety of the cavern and
confirmed Lyss' judgment. She felt the presence of
two distinct personalities, both of them focused and
wholly intent.
::You okay?:: queried Lyss. The feeling she
got from the other Betazoid was one of genuine
concern. ::You really don't like fighting, do you?::
::Not if I can avoid it::
::And you're pregnant.:: Lyss frowned again.
::I'd almost forgotten. Forget it, stay here. I'll
take them both.::
::You could be killed!:: Deanna shot back,
eyes wide. ::I'm not letting you go out there on
your own.::
::Oh yes you are. What do you think your
mountain man's going to do to me if I let that kid of
yours take it in the belly?:: Lyss tipped her head
and smiled. ::They're looking for something out
there and they're confused. That means I have the
advantage.::
::It's still too dangerous. There are too many
variables..::
::You have a better idea?::
Troi paused for a moment, then nodded
vigorously. ::Yes. How powerful can you project?::
Lyss smirked in surprise. ::I thought you said
no psi-warfare of any kind..::
::This isn't dangerous. And only temporary.::
Troi snapped. ::How far?::
::Far enough to fool *you*.:: She winked and
the color of her eyes changed to blue.
Deanna smiled cat-like in the darkness.
::Perfect::
--o--
------------
Chapter 134
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The job of the artist is to deepen the mystery."
- Francis Bacon
------------
Sub-Commander T'Pal had a reputation to uphold.
He was only Sub-Commander in the Tal'Shiar without a
single failure or loss on his record and he wasn't
about to start with one now.
The problem was this infernal planet. A cold,
frozen wasteland for all accounts; it made the skin
on his unaccustomed face and hands feel sticky when
the moisture froze. And there was wilderness for
parsecs. How had the humans ever managed to evolve
as well as they had in a climate such as this?
Casting a sidelong glance at his second
officer, T'Pal noted the genuine fervor with which
his subordinate scoured the rockface. He was a
diligent soldier, if not entirely intelligent. He
had to grant him that.
"Mi'lak! Over here." Waving the other officer
toward his position, the Sub-Commander suddenly
paused. Something was strange. He could feel it in
the shiftng air currents.
They weren't alone.
Turning where he stood, T'Pal found himself
face to face with the opening of a small cave. But
that wasn't what caught his attention.
Standing completely in the open, not thirty
steps from the mouth of the cavern, were two
beautiful human women who looked as though they'd
just stepped off of a Risean resort.
But how was that possible? Their scans hadn't
picked up a single humanoid lifesign within a five
parsec radius. Granted the cave might have concealed
mineral deposits rich enough to block their scans,
but even if that were so -- these women couldn't have
lived out here by themselves. Not without an energy
source to sustain them. Could they? What were they
using for food? No, something wasn't right. And he
was going to discover just exactly what that was.
"You there!" he called out, striding forward
with purpose. "How did you get here?
"Is he Romulan?" One of the women asked.
"He looks Romulan..." The other replied.
"Oh, I've never seen a Romulan before! This is
so exciting..."
"Hello!" The taller of the two smiled and
waved at his approach.
T'Pal frowned. They not only looked the part,
but were acting as though they'd just stepped out of
a Risean resort, as well.
As he drew nearer their position, he noticed
they were of similar build. Long dark hair tumbled
straight as a grid-plank past their shoulders. And
their eyes were a deep and brilliant green. No doubt
there was blood other than human in their veins for
that particular shade to emerge. They looked to be
sisters...
"Hello." He greeted them warily. No need to
startle them, after all. They seemed relatively
unconcerned with his presence on their planet. That
was also a good sign. It meant they probably weren't
Starfleet. Perhaps they were only visitors...
Tourists! He smiled.
"Are you Romulan?" the taller female smiled
back.
"Yes. My friend and I," he indicated his
flabberghasted, but mercifully silent second officer,
"are both Romulan. We're here on a ... a cultural
exchange with the Federation. We were just touring
your northern hemisphere. It is quite impressive!"
The two women exchanged a brief look and a
moment of silence. But when they turned back, both
were nodding vigorously.
"We're also visiting." One responded.
"We're from Risa."
Ah, so he'd been right. T'Pal's smile widened.
Risean women were also known the universe over for
their... love of physical pleasure. Perhaps this
trip had not been wasted, after all.
--o--
Will Riker trudged slowly through the forest on
his way to the rendez-vous point. His pack slung
wide over his shoulder, his legs took long,
mechanical strides as he made his way to the area of
river known as the Devil's Elbow.
There was no one in sight when he arrived.
If Deanna and Lyss were here, they had probably
taken shelter of some sort. That would have been the
smart thing to do.
Turning toward a nearby rockface, he followed
its edge along the water until he emerged through a
small grove of trees. The place was hauntingly
familiar to him; a childhood wilderness that he had
explored and memorized over and over again as a boy.
Lyss and Troi were most likely in the cave on
the lee side of the slope. It was the only
hospitable shelter nearby, and it would make a
welcome wind-breaker in the wake of the afternoon
chill.
Rounding the edge of the rockface, Riker froze
in his tracks. A pair of familiar Romulan soldiers
stood near the entrance to the cavern.
Riker ducked backward, crouching behind the
slope of the hill. There were two women with the
Romulans. He'd never seen either of them before but
he would have sworn with his dying breath that one of
them was Deanna Troi. The sense of her he felt just
looking in their general direction was nearly
overwhelming.
Maybe that was it. Maybe she wanted him to
know. That had to be it. If he was nearby, she'd
want him to know it was her. But how were they doing
... whatever it was they were doing?
::Deanna:: He shut his eyes and concentrated.
Sending to her at this distance would not be
particularly difficult, but he was still getting used
to the ability and it usually taxed more of his
external concentration than he would have preferred.
One of the women looked up; a gesture so vague
it could easily have been misconstrued for a simple
tilt of her head. Green eyes scanned the area in his
direction and for a fraction of a moment, settled on
the trees just in front of him.
She knew.
Before her gaze returned to the Romulans, Riker
noticed the way she tucked a lock of hair behind her
ear. It was Deanna all right. Deanna and Darya.
But *what* had they done to themselves?
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 135
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart."
-- Confucius
-------------------------
::Will. Stay where you are.::
The sound of Deanna's thoughts in his head
after so long a period of silence felt ticklish.
Like falling whispers of string that settled inside
his consciousness, making his brain itch.
::Like hell:: He sent back amicably. What did
she think he was going to do? Stand here while a
couple of Romulan soldiers had their way with her?
He felt Deanna's sigh, but ignored it. ::Are they
armed?::
::Yes:: Another voice barged into this thoughts
and it was unmistakably Darya Lyss. ::They're armed,
and if you don't listen to your wife, we're all going
to end up dead. So put your plan back into your
pants and let us handle this. We have a plan of our
own::
Taken more aback by the sound of Deanna's
mental laughter than by the intrusion of Lyss' voice,
Riker blinked in surprise.
::Well I guess I'll consider myself 'told'
then, Lieutenant:: He sent the phrase carefully.
::But if you think I'm going to stand here in the
background while those two Romulans get nasty, you'd
better think again.::
::You worry too much, cousin,:: Lyss responded
dryly.
::Don't test me, Lyss.::
::Will you both be quiet!:: Deanna cut in.
::Darya, I can't keep a one sided conversation going
with these half-wits forever.:: Riker smiled at
that. ::And as for you, Will, we weren't sure
whether you would be here on time or not. These
officers surprised us and we had to come up with
something quickly. If it works, we'll all be fine.
But if things go wrong, I'm certain you'll have both
our blessings to jump in with some help. All
right?::
As usual, she was forever the voice of reason,
and Riker had to admit that from where he crouched,
the situation looked as though the Romulans weren't
posing a direct threat as yet. He sighed and thought
back wryly, ::whatever you say, dear::
Her answering smile was manifest only in his
thoughts.
--o--
By the time Deanna's full attention returned to
the matter at hand, both Romulans were peering
suggestively at her chest. One look at Lyss and a
frustrated mental sigh was all she needed to pass on
the imperative, ::Can we get this over with,
*please*?::
::You bet,:: Lyss smiled. Turning toward
their Romulan companions, Darya upped the wattage on
her grin. "Say," her voice was low, "you two
wouldn't be looking for a little ... company ...
would you? A couple of girls like us, so far away
from home, we get very lonely..."
"As a matter of fact," the taller, more
assertive of the Romulans leered, "we would be happy
to provide you with some... company."
"Great," Lyss beamed. "Because we were
thinking it might be fun to play a little game. What
do you say?"
"A game?" His eyes narrowed, "what sort of
game?"
"Nothing a couple of big strong boys like you
couldn't handle." Her eyes turned to Troi and both
laughed coyly. But Deanna heard Darya's voice over
and above the fake sound of their amusement. ::I
swear if the little one touches me before I give him
the rules I'll wipe him, agreement or not..."
Troi turned to Lyss, still smiling. ::Mind on
the matter at hand,:: she admonished.
"Right," she spoke and thought aloud. "Here's
how it works. If you win, my friend over here," she
indicated Deanna, "will take you inside that cave and
... do anything you want." Lyss' eyes fell on Troi,
who looked almost as shocked as the Romulan soldier -
- and for good reason -- this *wasn't* what they had
agreed on when they made up the 'plan'.
::What are you doing?:: Deanna hissed in her
thoughts.
::Just trust me::
::I'd better be able to!::
The tall Romulan who had been ogling Troi's
finer attributes gave her body yet another
appreciative once-over. "And if we 'lose'?" he
finally asked. "What then?"
"You won't lose!" Deanna piped in.
"Of course not," Lyss offered the smaller
Romulan a look uncensored heat that might have set a
whole galaxy on fire. He swallowed sharply and
shifted where he stood. "It's a test of strength."
For a moment, the taller Romulan looked back at
Lyss as though she'd grown a third eye. Deanna might
have done the same, if she hadn't been certain it
would ruin their cover. "Of strength did you say?"
the Romulan grinned. "What sort of a challenge is
that?"
"A formality, really," Lyss leaned in closer to
the leader of the pair, "I happen to know that my
friend finds you very, *very* attractive..."
::You're doing this to get back at me because I
wouldn't let you wipe their minds, aren't you?::
Deanna muttered telepathically.
::I would never!:: Lyss grinned, and the
Romulan mistook it.
"How is this 'formality' to be proved," he
asked.
"Simple." Darya rose to her full height, which
was less than imposing when compared to the officers
before them. "You stay standing for ten seconds."
"What? What sort of challenge is--"
"Starting now!" She lunged forward, dropping
the enormous Romulan in less time than it had taken
to utter the phrase.
Grabbing hold of his disrupter, the shorter of
the pair lifted it on Lyss but Deanna's boot knocked
it squarely from his hand. The next hit she offered
was one acquired earlier in the day. It flattened
the officer unconscious, and Troi yanked his gun from
his hand where he fell.
When she turned, she noticed Darya still
leaning over her own quarry, seemingly oblivious. The
larger Romulan had hit the ground hard, but he was
more than conscious when she twisted a portion of his
neck, dipping her fingers in a sharp motion until his
body convulsed and he lay very still.
"I said ten seconds," she whispered into deaf
ears, "that was only two."
When it was over, a pair of Romulan soldiers
lay prostrate on the ground between them. Lyss
looked up and met Deanna's gaze. "Told you to trust
me," she grinned.
"That wasn't the plan." Troi deadpanned.
"No. It was better."
"More dangerous," Deanna argued, placing both
hands on her hips. "Did you kill him?"
Lyss stared at her, uncomprehending. "Yeah.
What did you expect me to do? What did you think
he'd do to us?"
"That isn't the point!"
"It is to me!" For a time, the two held eye
contact, seething in synchronicity while the aura of
their illusion shimmered and vanished around them.
Gone were the pair of Risean sex-kittens. Leaving
two equally angry Betazoids; an officer and a spy,
engaged in mental combat. "What do you think we're
going to do with that one?" Lyss gestured at the
still-breathing Romulan near Troi.
"We're not killing him." Troi shot back.
"We have to! You're suggesting we leave him
here? A known Romulan member of the Tal'Shiar laying
in the Alaskan wilderness until he 'wakes up'? Or do
you plan to turn him over to Starfleet?" her dark
eyes bored into Troi's. "With what explanation?"
"I could really care less," Deanna scowled.
"We're still not killing him."
"Oh yes, we are..." Darya lifted the tall
Romulan's disrupter and pointed it at his friend.
"Lieutenant." A booming voice sounded from
behind them, freezing Darya where she stood. "Stand
down, Lieutenant."
"Oh please, not you too?" Her eyes closed and
then opened on Will Riker tolerantly. "Listen to
what you're saying--"
"I'm saying stand down," He approached them
calmly, eyes fixed on Lyss. "Right now."
"And if I don't?"
Riker glanced at Troi, then back again.
"Don't go there, Darya," Deanna whispered.
"Please."
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 136
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than
outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure
or nothing."
- Helen Keller
-------------------------
"Well, you've obviously got something up your
sleeve," Deanna Troi muttered, adjusting the light-
weight pack on her back. They'd been trekking
through the Alaskan woods for nearly an hour. The
sun had begun to set, visible as a series of red-
orange streaks among the towering conifers. "I
still can't believe she agreed to your plan."
Riker's eyebrow rose. "I thought you wanted
her gone."
"I--" her mouth clamped shut, "--never said
that."
"No. You threatened to kill her," he smirked,
"twice that I recall. And from a Betazoid
psychologist, I'd have to say: Them's fightin'
words."
The crude accent he sported did nothing to
improve Deanna's humor.
"I don't trust her with that Romulan soldier.
He's unconscious and you and I both know she wanted
to kill him..."
"She won't kill him," Riker shrugged matter-
of-factly.
"How are you so sure?"
"I just am."
"You know something I don't." Deanna crossed
her arms over her chest and scowled.
"Deanna--"
"You've only told me part of the plan Will
Riker. And I want the rest of it. Now."
"Look, I couldn't tell you all of it--"
"Why not?" she argued, "you obviously told
Lyss."
"She needed convincing."
"And you're supposed to trust me!"
"I do!" Riker exhaled sharply. "It's not
that. Deanna, you know I trust you."
"And do you really think she'll make it out
there?" Troi glanced behind them as though it might
yield the object of her query. "There's miles of
wilderness, and she's got an unconscious Romulan to
drag--"
"Deanna-- are we talking about the same Darya
Lyss here? The woman's a 31 operative. I'm twice
her size but she managed to knock me out, kidnap me
and fly me half way across the globe without my being
aware," Riker's eyes narrowed at Deanna's suddenly
glib expression. "And if you make a single comment--
"
"I wasn't going to comment," Deanna stowed her
smirk, "I just ... hope you're right, that's all.
Darya and I may not 'get along'--"
"There's an understatement."
"But that doesn't mean I wish her dead."
"Neither do I!" Riker stopped their progress
and took hold of one of Troi's padded gortex arms.
"Listen, the only reason Darya agreed with my plan is
because she knows as well as I do, it's the best
way," he stared down at her and squared his
shoulders, "it's the only way."
"Well I'm hardly in a position to argue, am I?
Unless you elaborate."
"In fact," he pressed on as though he hadn't
heard her, "if I could have traded the two of you so
that she'd be the one here with me right now instead
of my pregnant wife, I'd have done it!" Troi threw
him an incredulous look, which he also ignored.
"She's not the one headed for a squad of Romulan
Tal'Shiar."
"Will you stop saying that!" Deanna grumbled,
"My pregnant wife... my pregnant wife..." she spat.
"You'd think I was a piece of your property or part
of your art collection. And I am *not* about to fall
apart!"
"I didn't say you were."
"No, but you're thinking it." Their eyes
locked and Riker saw something in Troi's that made
him release her arm.
"I'm thinking that the stakes are a little high
on this mission, yeah. If that's what you mean,
you're damn right I am!" The level of his voice rose
while he spoke, forcing Deanna to turn her head in
anger.
"What do you expect me to do?" he yelled, "what
do you want from me?"
"Trust! Some breathing space! I'm not a
porcelain doll!" she rounded on him.
Riker threw his hands in the air. "I love
you!"
"I love you, too!"
For a time, they stood there glaring at
eachother; forcing livid puffs of moisture into the
frosty air.
"You know," Riker was the first one to speak,
"I don't even have an art collection," he grinned.
"Or any taste in art whatsoever." Troi threw
back at him coldly. Her expression took him for
several more seconds before she shook her head. "But
I suppose that's okay," she smiled slightly.
"Good," Riker pulled her towards him, placing
the back of his hand against the edge of her face.
"I'd hate to think we'd let a little thing like ...
cultural awareness ... come between the great sex we
have."
He waggled his eyebrows and Deanna uttered a
short laugh, shoving him backward. Brushing a few
invisible snowflakes from her jacket, she finally
looked up at him.
"Well, Mr. Riker, I'd say there won't be any
more of -that- either," she crossed her arms and
leaned backward, "unless you let me in on the rest of
your plan in the next five seconds."
------------------------
Chapter 137
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!"
-David G. Farragut (Battle of Mobile Bay, August 5,
1864)
-------------------------
"Deanna, come on. This is ridiculous." Riker
followed her footsteps through the shallow snow.
They were near their target now, and the gaps in the
treetops had already begun to look familiar to him.
"You can't not talk to me, we have a mission to
accomplish."
Troi continued less than a meter ahead of him
in silence. Her shoulders were set and she hadn't so
much as turned in his direction for the past hour.
"For god's sake, you're a Counselor!" Riker
came up behind her and took hold of her shoulders,
forcing her around. "How can you condone a complete
*lack* of communication like this? What will it
solve?"
The look in her eyes changed. He saw the
moment it happened and wasn't sure whether he'd
preferred it when she hadn't said a word. Because he
could feel her anger through their link. And it was
as real as anything else he'd ever felt from her.
Oh, he was about to get a response, all right.
Deanna scowled. "You're assuming that my
desire is to -solve- anything to begin with!" she
snapped. Her dark eyes narrowed and she sucked in an
angry breath of air.
"I could order you to cooperate." He glared
back.
"Oh, yes!" she snarled, "and then you could
prosecute me for insubordination when I told you to
go to hell, *Commander*!" Her gloved hand shot
forward and she stabbed him in the chest with her
finger. "I'm sure there were enough rabbits in that
last hole we passed to put together a court marshal."
Despite himself, Riker laughed. He laughed and
it seemed to make her even angrier than she'd been
the moment before.
"Deanna, look," his voice sobered, "I've told
you every detail of my plan. Everything I told Lyss
and more. You know item for item what I intend to do
once we get to the cabin. You know why I need you
there, and why I sent Lyss back into the woods with a
hostage."
Deanna stared at him and shook her head.
"Except that you're hiding something from me.
There's something you're still not telling me, and I
want to know what it is!"
"There's nothing--" Riker spread his hands.
"You're lying to me!"
Their eyes locked and she was nearly shaking
with rage. Riker sucked in a slow breath of air and
dropped his gaze.
"How can you stand there and lie to me?"
Deanna's voice grew quiet while her own head fell.
"You know that I--"
"Because there's nothing--" Riker began again,
this time resolutely, "--more than I can tell you
right now." And he was telling the truth. As much
as he could. He wanted to tell her a hell of a lot
more.
Deanna turned away. "I've always trusted you,"
she whispered.
"Then trust me now." His sharp gaze never left
her, though he kept the distance between them. She
lifted her head.
--o--
"Beverly, sit down!" Jean-Luc Picard watched an
obviously anxious doctor pace back and forth in his
quarters. "You're making me dizzy," he added less
abruptly.
When she dropped unceremoniously into a nearby
chair and simply glared at him, Picard sighed. There
was no point in arguing with her, or in trying to
persuade a more reasonable course of action. She
obviously had something she wanted to say and she
wouldn't be fit for company until she'd said it. He
nodded to himself, pulling down on his uniform jacket
out of habit. "I'm listening," he spoke as his eyes
settled on hers.
"We have to go to Fleet Command with this,"
Crusher shook her head and even her posture seemed to
dare him to argue.
"We can't."
"Why? Why not?" Beverly jumped to her feet,
"just a few hours ago, you were livid that we
couldn't tell Fleet Command why Will had disappeared.
Now I want to do just that and you're suddenly a
clam? Jean-Luc," Crusher rounded his table and came
to stand face-to-face with him. "They could die out
there, and 31 doesn't give a damn about that, you
know it's true!"
"And if we go to Fleet Command?" Picard shook
his head. "Imagine I were to stand before Admiral
Wilson and demand that section 31 has kidnapped my
first officer and my ship's counselor; that they're
off in Alaska somewhere, pursued by the Romulan
Tal'Shiar over the cure to a threat more deadly to
the human species than has ever been encountered in
the history of the Federation! What then, doctor?"
Picard stared back at her. She had to
understand. It was only her unwillingness to accept
that she was hardly more than helpless in this
instant -- the ever-present fiery determination he
had come to know so well in a young woman named
Beverly Howard -- before she was Crusher -- more
years ago than he was willing to acknowledge.
"Then--" Beverly shook her head, "then-- we're
justified in going after them. In placing Federation
resources toward the task of ending this once and for
all."
"You mean the Enterprise."
"Do you know how many people could die if that
virus is released?"
"They'd never allow the involvement of the
Enterprise. Beverly, can't you see that our hands
are tied in this?" Picard implored, coming forward
and taking her shoulders with his hands. "I know
perhaps better than most, how deeply Section 31 has
its tendrils into the hierarchy of Starfleet Command.
If we take this to them now, it would not only be
naive of us to assume they'd help, it would be
suicide for any attempt we might wish to make in
future toward that end with or without their
knowledge." His eyes focused on hers and he held his
ground. "We tell them what we know right now and we
might as well lock -ourselves- in these quarters and
wait, because that is where we'll spend the remainder
of our stay on Earth."
Beverly's jaw dropped. He'd never seen that
happen to her before, and for a moment, it was almost
enough to shock him into saying something more. But
Jean-Luc Picard had never been apt to reveal
surprise. He exhaled instead.
Crusher still seemed clearly at odds.
"Commander Flynn assured me that--"
"JAG's inquiry into Will Riker's innocence was
cut short less than twelve hours after the three of
you vanished." Picard cut in inexorably. "I couldn't
see the reason in that at first. It now seems clear
the next stage of 31's agenda was put into play.
Commander Flynn brought you back here so that you
wouldn't interfere."
"We were coming for back-up," argued Crusher.
"Kathryne Flynn was killed for a reason,
Beverly. She's going to feel it necessary to remain
that way -- or she's been ordered to. In either
event, I don't imagine she's even in the room where
you left her any longer," the captain's lips thinned
as he thought aloud. "But that can also mean that we
now have the upper hand. Because of her own
deception, she won't be able to take an active role
in this particular subterfuge. She'll have to call
for help. And that means we will likely be able to
leave before she discovers an opportunity to stop
us," he nodded to himself. "Provided we leave now."
"You think she's going to--"
"--keep us from interfering?" he dropped his
head and almost smirked, "she's sure as hell going to
try."
"So they've done it again," Crusher scowled.
"They play a card and we're forced into a corner.
They think they've brought us here to trap us..."
"For the moment." Picard acknowledged.
"And we can't contact the Enterprise," she
continued, pacing from one end of the suite to the
other. "Those arrogant, self-righteous little--"
Beverly suddenly stopped, turning out into the room.
"That does it!"
"I beg your pardon?" Picard came forward and
stood between her restless movement and the doorway.
Crusher looked up as though she'd just realized
he was present in the room. The suggestion of a
smile tipped her lips. "She thinks she has us under
control. They all do. They think they can just show
up and take control of everyone's lives as though
they're so much greater than we are. Such paragons
of towering intellect in the face of our obviously
inferior mentalities. Well they can think again.
They want the upper hand and they think they still
have it," her blue eyes flashed. "Well I say we take
it back."
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 138
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Love is the immortal flow of energy that nourishes,
extends and preserves. Its eternal goal is life."
------------------------
"I'm not going in there." It was a pointed
statement. A factual finality. Deanna crossed her
arms and shook her head.
"Fine." Riker shrugged. "But it's going to
get a little cold out here once the sun goes down."
His eyes scanned the dimming light of the horizon and
then returned to the structure at hand.
It was decidedly camouflaged. Inset into the
side of a snow-covered hill, the surface was nearly
invisible. Except that Riker uncovered it with a few
well-placed button presses near the lee side of the
slope.
Who would ever have imagined that anyone might
build a dwelling into the side of a rock-face? What
made it even better, as he'd been happy to point out,
was that the natural metallic deposits in the rock
would serve as a sensor-shield, rendering it
undetectable to any devices seeking an energy
signature.
"Besides, there's a fireplace in there.
Warmth?" he grinned, "heat for your Betazoid blood?"
Deanna offered him an apathetic stare.
"Suit yourself," gathering his two packs onto
his shoulders, Riker started for the door. He'd
almost made it and was about to turn and offer her
entry a final time, when the movement from his effort
stilled his arm. He dropped the larger bag, wincing
in pain. His damned right shoulder again. It seemed
to be getting worse before it was getting better.
For a fractional instant he almost wished they still
had Beverly with them.
"Give me that," Deanna tugged the larger bag
from his arm and gathered it into hers, affording him
a quick look of appraisal. She'd crossed the
distance between them and managed to block his entry
before he'd even realized she was moving.
"It's fine." Riker ignored her matter-of-fact
glance, but he allowed her to take the pack. It was
nearly bigger than she was, but he wasn't in any
condition to argue.
The door to the structure slid quietly aside,
revealing a dark space.
"Computer, lights." he called. The room was
suddenly bright with warm incandescents. "Well, at
least that still works," Riker nodded to himself,
"but it's newer than the rest of this place so it
probably should."
"Where are we?" Deanna finally ventured,
dropping the incongruous pack onto a short wooden
table.
"A family friend's old place. My father's best
friend. He's been dead for a while. Left it to me
in his will, but I never figured I'd see it again."
Without waiting for a response, Riker moved farther
inside and placed his hand on an antique grandfather
clock. "Just like it was when I was a kid," he
whispered.
Coming full circle, his eyes met with Troi's
and he saw the question before she was able to ask
it. "His name was Tom Carrigan. Which is where my
father says I got my middle name. I used to call
him Uncle Tom."
"Uncle Tom?" Deanna's neutral expression
twitched. "Which would make this ... uncle Tom's
cabin?"
"I guess so." Riker blinked. Then he laughed.
"Hell, I never thought of that before."
"Well, that's what I'm here for apparently,"
Troi quipped dryly, "comic relief. Seeing as how I
can't be trusted with anything more important."
"Deanna--"
"Right," she cut him off pitilessly, "so what
happens now, Commander?"
Riker sighed. It was pointless to argue with
her when she was like this.
"We sit down," he moved toward her and slid the
bag she was wearing from her shoulders, only
moderately surprised at her lack of protest. "I make
us something to eat and start a fire. Get some heat
in here."
"There's a computer..." Deanna rubbed her free
shoulder gently.
"Minimal generator," he explained, "I'd rather
use it for lights and cooking, basic heat, but the
fireplace will warm things up more quickly. We can
put it out later on."
Riker dropped her bag and touched her shoulder
where she was favoring it, but Deanna pulled away.
"Whatever." she shrugged, walking slowly into
the living area.
With a quick exhale, Will turned from her and
dropped to a crouch in front of a large inlaid
fireplace. It took only a moment to reset the
temperature gauge -- it wasn't as antique as the
clock had been -- and only a minute more for a modest
fire to take shape, warming the space with an orange
glow.
"Was this ever ... alive?"
The query came from the opposite end of the
room. Deanna was standing next to an enormously
expansive throw rug that covered nearly half the
floor. It was heavy and furred and quite a few times
larger than she was.
"No," Will shook his head and rose to his feet,
"'fraid not. Tom liked to read about hunting. He
never really got out and did any of it himself. I'm
sorry to say that's one hundred percent, genuine,
replicated fur."
"Oh..." Deanna exhaled quickly. "Good."
He grinned. "Wondering what animal was large
enough to cover five hundred square-feet of floor?"
"No," she defended, stepping backward even so.
"Right," he smirked, but the icy look she threw
him back reminded him that she wasn't in the mood to
play; just as she hadn't been since his earlier
refusal to elaborate on what was going on inside his
mind.
The problem was, he couldn't. Because she'd
never agree to it, and he didn't have the time to
convince her. So, he'd have to abide with her anger
for now. Maybe even for a very long time.
If his hunch was correct, there was a good
possibility that he wouldn't be leaving Alaska, or
the general area of this very cabin again any time
soon. At least, not the way she'd want him to. Not
while he was still breathing.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 139
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Choose your battles. Large enough to matter, small
enough to win."
-Jonathan Kozol
------------------------
When the food was gone and Deanna hadn't spoken
for nearly half an hour, Riker took a seat next to
her on the rug. It wasn't that he'd come up with
anything worthy of a culinary masterpiece, but a hot
meal was more than they'd had the night before and
she'd barely acknowledged it with more than a look
and a brief nod. Firelight danced in the hearth and
she was staring at it, utterly silent.
"It's not really that bad here, is it?" he
ventured experimentally, taking a short breath and
reclining on one arm. She didn't look as though she
were going to answer.
"I never said it was bad," Deanna shrugged,
apparently not as intent on ignoring him as he'd
previously imagined. It was then that he realized -
- he hadn't really said much of anything, either.
They were brooding simultaneously for different
reasons, but Riker was reasonably certain that she
looked about as miserable as he felt.
"You were angry," he pointed out.
"I'm still angry," Deanna's eyes rose to meet
his.
"Okay," he sighed, "That's fair. How about I
tell you a story?"
"The point of which would be--?"
"The point of which would be, that you trust me
again."
"I trust you now," she said simply.
"Then why are you acting like I'm the ba--?"
"I know that you're hiding something from me."
Deanna waved his remark away with a shake of her
head; dropping her gaze for a moment so that he
wasn't sure whether she was looking at the rug or at
the ring on her hand. "I know that you're not
telling me everything you could be, and that upsets
me. But I trust that you've got a reason for that,"
she looked away again. "That doesn't mean I like it
any better."
"Or me any better," he mumbled. Her eyes
returned to his, but her expression was unreadable.
It made him damned uncomfortable, that was all.
"What do you -feel-, Will?" her question came
out of left field, shattering an untenable silence.
It took him by surprise, all though it probably
shouldn't have. Deanna was forever asking him to set
out and define the way he felt.
"I don't know," he shook his head, irritated.
"What difference would it make?"
She sat forward, obviously amused. "You're
looking at me like you're trying to read what's
behind my expression," her lips turned up into
something which vaguely resembled a smile. "You
forget from moment to moment that with us, it's not
that simple. Or that difficult. You don't have to
guess."
Riker froze where he sat; speechless while her
words digested themselves in his thoughts. It was
true. He didn't have to guess, he could feel what
she was feeling if he so much as bent his mental keel
in her direction. He could live what she
experienced. She'd given him that on the day of
their wedding. But since their return from Betazed,
he'd been forgetting how -- more and more often --
forgetting just how dear a gift it must have been for
her to offer.
Having fully established a bond with Deanna, it
wasn't always clear to him that they could never
really be apart. But looking at her now, it suddenly
seemed -very- clear that she was feeling as though he
was pushing her away.
No matter how wrong that assumption might have
been, for Deanna -- for any Betazoid who shared a
link the way they did -- his refusal to be wholly
honest was tantamount to any other form of physical
betrayal.
She was allowing him to 'get away with it'
because she knew he didn't mean it that way. She
knew he didn't realize. And so she swallowed the
hurt she was feeling and allowed herself only the
anger at a moderate infraction of trust. Never the
full force of what he'd done to her would have meant
-- if she thought he knew any better.
"I don't know what to do anymore," Riker looked
away from her when the darkness of her eyes became a
dangerous trap. "I don't know how to do this right."
"Do what right?" Deanna asked him quietly.
She had moved even closer and now sat shoulder to
shoulder with him on the large area rug.
"If I tell you," he glanced up at her and spoke
softly, "it could all fall apart."
"And if you don't tell me?"
"Then it works. It all works. But I keep
hurting you like this. And someday you'll probably
hate me for it."
"I could never hate you," she shook her head.
"Then it's okay that I don't tell you?" he met
her expression head on, and she said nothing at all.
She just looked back at him with the largest pair of
eyes he'd ever seen.
"I can't, Deanna." Riker slowly shook his
head.
With only a short breath and a half nod, Deanna
rose quietly from the rug and turned away from him.
"Goodnight, Will," she whispered, crossing the room
and entering a dark doorway. He saw the bedroom
light go on for a moment, and then switch off.
Riker lay back on the rug when the crackle of
the fireplace was the only sound left. He let his
head settle in the deep, soft fibers, and he stared
at the ceiling for a very long time.
=/ /=
------------------------
Chapter 140
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"I am become Death,
The shatterer of Worlds."
-- Bhagavad Gita
------------------------
When Riker woke, it was slowly, to the
sensation of a warm and supple body laid against his
own. The feeling was familiar, and so was the reason
for it. Deanna crawled up next to him and traced a
lock of hair away from the edge of his face.
"Sparks?" he whispered, staring up into the
darkness of the room. The firelight was out. It had
sputtered its last breath some time ago in the night,
leaving a slight chill in the still-air of the cabin.
"Shh." Leaning over his body, Deanna placed
her lips on top of his.
Riker felt his own response before she'd even
managed to settle her slight weight on his torso.
He'd kissed her before -- a whole lot of times. He'd
tasted her lips and her breath on his skin. But this
time, through an almost blurry haze of darkness,
while she layered kiss after kiss on his skin, it was
absolutely incredible.
"Oh, god, I'm sorry," he murmured to her,
drawing his hands through the tangle of thick, dark
hair on her back. The depth of the loss he'd felt
from her coolness toward him finally settled on his
soul. And now that she was kissing him again, he was
utterly powerless to stop her.
The moment was surreal. The darkness shifted
while she moved. The taste of her was sweeter than
honey, but the sensation of sleepiness remained as
though he were unable to wake up from a dream.
"It's not a dream," she whispered back, in
answer to his unspoken question. "I love you,
Imzadi." Deanna's mouth closed over his another
time. Her dark eyes reflected only acceptance --
only love, "and I understand." It filled him with a
need for her so powerful, he could barely breathe.
"Sparks, you're my whole world. My universe.
You know that," Riker's hand brushed reverently
across her face. "I would never hurt you on purpose."
"I know," Deanna pressed her cheek into his
palm. "We'll find it together," she went on.
"I already know where it is," he whispered
back, stroking her hair with his hand. Her eyes
widened slightly and she leaned forward on top of
him, grazing the edge of his lips with hers.
"Show me?" she asked.
With only a moment of thought and a quiet
exhale, Riker looked to her and nodded. "Okay," his
breath caught at the brilliance of her smile and he'd
never loved her more than he did in that simple
moment.
The room seemed to shift with the darkness once
more and Riker looked up, behind his wife.
This time it was clearer. This time, he could
see the figure standing in the shadows of a doorway;
he could hear a woman's voice as she began her
approach.
The form and stature of the woman in shadow was
vaguely familiar to him. Her voice and the way that
she moved was almost recognizable.
Glancing up at Deanna, confused because he
didn't seem able to think as clearly as he'd like to,
Riker stared into the wide, dark eyes of his wife and
saw the figure behind her raise a weapon.
The room began to spin as the shadow walked
toward them; even closer, her words an undeniable
warning with every syllable uttered.
"Get away from him, you bitch."
=/ /=
------------------------
Chapter 141
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Do not trust the horse, Trojans!
Whatever it is, I fear the Greeks,
even though they bring gifts."
-Virgil (The Aenead)
------------------------
With the weight of the world on the back of his
neck, Riker struggled to rise. It was a futile
attempt and he fell backward, limp as a rag doll
before he'd managed to lift his head from the floor.
"I said, step away from him!" The figure in
the doorway advanced on them anew.
Riker's shut his eyes and then opened them
again, hoping for greater focus; hoping in vain. It
was hard to see; hard to think; hard to keep himself
steady.
"Deanna?" his eyes narrowed and then locked
with the woman in the doorway. She was staring back
at him directly, and it was the damndest thing.
If he kept his eyes on hers, he felt like he
could see the room more clearly. Like she was
helping him. It suddenly made sense.
Shoving backward with all his strength, Riker
pushed to rise. The moment was barely adequate, but
it seemed to surprise the woman on top of him.
The woman he'd thought was Deanna.
Her body changed with the instant that he
realized it wasn't. But breaking the enemy's
concentration was the only opening he'd needed to
provide. From only a few short meters away, the real
Deanna Troi fired a brief shot from the weapon in her
hand.
Riker's captor went down with an angry cry.
She was stunned, but not unconscious. Clutching her
shoulder, she struggled to her feet and staggered
backward into the room.
With Deanna's very obvious assistance, Riker's
head began to clear. Though he wasn't able to
speculate how she'd managed to do that for him, while
keeping her tactical senses alert. He wasn't about
to question the gift. His breath caught in his
throat as he managed to rise.
"You!" The other woman howled in rage, pointing
at Troi in livid disbelief. "You can't--!"
"Romulan mind tricks are the laughing stock of
every truly telepathic species in the quadrant,"
Deanna shot back, "I learned to block them when I was
five!"
The woman's angry scowl suddenly transformed
into a feral smile. "Well, apparently your lover
isn't quite as skilled, Counselor. He's told me
everything I needed to know."
"She's lying," Riker shook his still-foggy
head. "I was about to tell her, but I hadn't said
anything--"
"I know," Deanna threw him a sidelong glance.
It was a look that held a certain amount of pity, and
a still-greater accusation. For the first time since
he'd known Deanna, Riker felt as though he wanted to
crawl into a hole from embarrassment.
Fortunately, there was little time for
thinking. Negative or otherwise. Before either could
respond to the woman's argument, her visage shifted
again -- the obvious product of personal cloaking
technology. She transformed a final time into
someone who was painfully familiar.
"Liriel?" Deanna's eyes widened.
"It seems our technology is a greater
accomplishment than our telepathic prowess," Liriel
smirked, "But no matter. My loyalty lies with
whatever works."
"Liriel," Riker stepped forward, "what the hell
kind of game is this?"
"My name is L'reh, Commander." Her green eyes
narrowed, "And 'the game' is over. I win." Deanna
exchanged a look with Riker. "There are ten Romulan
soldiers outside this dwelling, even now. There is
no place for you to go, and no one for you to call
for help. My advantage," she smiled, "my victory."
Without thinking, Riker's eyes shifted. He
glanced very briefly toward the back of the room,
where darkness cloaked even the shifting of the
shadows.
"Yes," L'reh nodded in satisfaction, noting his
look. "It's in here somewhere, isn't it, Will?"
Riker stood rigid and silent, ignoring even
Deanna's quick glance toward him.
"Tell me where it is, and we will all be better
off." Liriel lifted a short disruptor from her belt,
pointing it directly back at them. "And you may
lower your weapon now as well, Counselor."
Deanna didn't budge.
"T'Pal," Liriel called, "In here, now."
The door to the entrance forced open within a
matter of seconds and two stoic Romulans stood
beneath its frame. One of them, Deanna recognized
from her shared encounter with Lt. Lyss.
"We found Sub-Commander T'Pal in the woods
several kilometers from here," L'reh smirked,
"obviously lucky to be alive," she added. "Starfleet
and its code of conduct. Your pathetic compassion
for life will ultimately lead to your own death."
Riker and Troi exchanged another quick glance,
but neither spoke.
"Your weapon, Counselor. Drop it on the floor.
Over there." Liriel smiled when Deanna finally
complied.
"Now. There is still the small matter of the
box," L'reh advanced on Riker slowly, "tell me where
it is, and I won't kill--" her voice trailed off as
she circled his prone position, "--her." finally
settling the barrel of the disruptor on the side of
Troi's head.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 142
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Because I could not stop for Death --
He kindly stopped for me --
The carriage held but just ourselves
And immortality."
-Emily Dickinson
------------------------
Riker caught sight of Deanna's expression in
the moment before his heart leapt solidly into his
throat. There was more at stake here than any of
their lives. If the Romulans got their hands on the
cure for the virus, it would condemn the entire human
species to death.
"Kill her, Liriel, and you'll get nothing."
Riker stalled, "you could take this place apart with
a hyper spanner and you'd still never find what
you're looking for. I'm the only key you have."
L'reh considered his words and then lifted the
weapon from Troi's proximity. "You're lying," she
warned.
"Am I?" Riker kept his face impassive, "can
you risk finding out?"
"Well I only need one of you to make this
work," Liriel shrugged. "Blood is blood. So how
about it Will?" her voice took on the youthful,
energetic tone it had when he'd first met her in Ten
Forward on board the Enterprise. "Looks like it's
going to be just you and me again."
L'reh started toward him, tapping a code into
the transporter patch on her arm.
Realizing his plan in the instant before it
occurred, as well as the fact that Riker wasn't about
to stop L'Reh from her obvious intent, Deanna acted
instead, shoving Will backward and out of the other
woman's grasp before she could activate the device.
"No one is going -anywhere-!" Troi side-
stepped Liriel and grabbed Riker by the arm. Her
hand snaked out and snatched the fallen phaser from
the floor. She held it aloft. "No one is moving,"
her voice was low and resolute. L'reh raised an
eyebrow. "Take even a step, Ms. Wells," Troi used
the woman's former name with deliberate avarice, "and
I'll kill us both. The box is useless to you then.
And you go back to the Tal'Shair with your tail
between your legs. With nothing!"
Following without remark, Riker threw Troi a
look of amazement, but she ignored him completely.
"You're not about to kill yourselves!" Liriel
laughed.
"Oh no?" Deanna cocked her head. "As you
should recall, I've done it before. When fewer lives
were at stake. You're threatening an entire race
this time. And my 'pathetic Starfleet compassion' is
starting to kick in again..."
Lirel's face blanched. Her memories of the
Enterprise and the near-death experience of Counselor
Troi were apparently still in-tact. "You won't kill
him," she reiterated.
"Try me," Deanna glanced at Will and her face
was utterly expressionless. But he didn't need to
see her face to know what she was feeling, or
thinking. He would always know those things.
Because she had sworn never to keep them from him.
And she'd never gone back on her word to him in her
entire life.
Deanna was stalling. She was waiting for
something to happen. But before he had even begun to
try and find out what, the door where T'Pal and the
other Romulan had been standing suddenly burst into
brilliant flames.
Both Romulans went down together, falling into
a tangled, charred heap. Behind them was another
Romulan. Tall, blank-faced, he stood in the entryway
with his disruptor raised and set on maximum, but he
didn't move again.
"Your soldiers are gone, L'reh," an unnatural
voice echoed from the lips of the Romulan soldier in
the door. "You are next." He spoke with the distant
cadence of a man already dead, blank eyes staring
straight ahead before he fell face-first onto the
floor.
Behind him, Darya Lyss walked slowly over the
bodies in the doorway. Her eyes glanced over both
Riker and Troi before landing on L'reh.
"It's late, cousin," she spoke so quietly that
Deanna found herself wondering whether this was the
same Darya Lyss she had come to know. "But never too
late. We have the cure."
"Darya!" Riker coiled his fists at his sides.
"Tell me you didn't--" The small, ironic smile on
Lyss' face was all the confirmation he required.
Glancing from the dead soldiers in the doorway,
back to the slowly approaching Betazoid, L'reh
grabbed hold of the tiny transporter device on her
arm without warning. Her body shimmered brightly and
then vanished into the semi-darkness.
Heedless of the disappearing Romulan, Riker
reached Lyss in a second and stood motionless in
front of her. "Darya--" he placed his hands on her
shoulders, and it seemed almost as though that was
all that was keeping her standing.
"If there's one thing I learned growing up here
on Earth," Darya sucked in a shallow breath, "It's
that life's a bitch," she smiled at her own morbid
humor, "and then you die."
Lyss tipped forward and fell heavily into
Riker's arms.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 143
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in
ourselves."
-William Shakespeare
------------------------
"What's happened to her?" Deanna rushed
forward and helped Riker lift the pallid form of Lt.
Lyss into his arms. As they shifted her body, the
fingers of Darya's right hand fell open and a tiny
silver box tumbled onto the floor. It landed with a
muted thump on the carpet.
"My grandfather used to say, 'the secret to
life is in the dying'." Riker recited the old quote
from memory, glancing from the object on the floor to
the woman in his arms. His look returned to Troi who
had bent to retrieve the silver case. "Deanna, no!"
She froze, half bent at the waist, hand
outstretched. "Why?"
"Because, what did this to Darya could still be
in there." At her perplexed expression, Riker
continued. "The virus, Deanna. The cure for the
virus isn't just an antidote. It's in the virus
itself. Genetically engineered. We have to get Darya
back to Starfleet medical before it mutates, so that
they can synthesize a vaccine or there is no cure at
all, and she'll die for sure."
Slowly retracting her hand, Deanna rose to her
full height. She placed her fingers lightly on Lyss'
neck. "She's still breathing."
"For now," he sighed.
"How is it spread?" Troi whispered, eyes
finally on him. "Will, how is it spread?" she
repeated.
Riker let out a breath. "I don't think it's
airborn yet."
"Don't think?"
"Deanna, I don't have the first goddamned clue,
all right?" He snapped at her and regretted it
immediately when she cringed at his tone. "I'm
sorry," he amended. "It's just, this wasn't the way
it was supposed to happen, that's all."
"No," she shook her head, "it's not is it?"
Deanna's dark eyes seemed to punch a hole right
through him. "That was supposed to be you, wasn't
it? You were going to be the one who would die like
this..." she paused, "that's why you didn't want to
tell me. Darya said the box was encoded for your
DNA, yours and hers," her gaze lifted slowly as
revelation dawned, "and mine! Mine because I'm
pregnant."
Riker looked away.
"You weren't going to tell me, because you were
afraid I'd not let you go through with it!"
"Would you have?" he threw back.
Deanna ignored him. "You were just going to
... to ... die ... and not tell me?"
"Robert Riker was a man who knew the risks. He
never did anything easy. Not a thing in his entire
life. If he was going to hide a lock, he'd make damn
sure that even he would think twice about revealing
its key, regardless of how he was tortured."
"That sick-- bastard!" Deanna recoiled in rage
and revulsion. "How -could- he? He knew that it
would have to be someone he loved. Someone in his
family who took the box. It wasn't encoded for him,
it was encoded for a hybrid. His children with
Darya's grandmother. You, or your siblings if you'd
had any... -our- children," she whispered.
"That's why I made the choice!" Riker cut her
off. "It was supposed to be -me-! You're damn right
it was supposed to be me!" His eyes fell on Lyss and
for the most absurd reason, he felt an inkling of the
same weight he'd known when his mother passed away.
She was the only living relative, apart from his
father, that he had left. "And damn her for coming
back and trying to play the hero! I told her to stay
out of this!"
"So you'd be the one who was dying right now?"
Deanna screamed at him. "How would that be better,
Will?"
He'd never heard her scream at him before. Not
like this, at any rate. Her eyes were bright and
filled with tears she hadn't shed, her hands fisted
white-knuckled at her sides.
For a fraction of a moment, Riker felt certain
he did see hatred in her expression. But there was
no time for anything he might have had to say, and so
he tore his gaze from hers and started for the door
instead.
"We have to get out of here Deanna. We have to
get her back. She'll die if we don't move, now. Get
something to gather that up in," he indicated the box
on the floor. "Be careful. Use something metal,
air-tight if you can."
He didn't know why he'd added the last part.
If the virus was air-born, it wouldn't make much
difference anymore.
But Deanna complied. Wordlessly, she took a
lacquered box from an ornate table and scooped the
tiny object inside. Without so much as a glance in
his direction, she preceded him out of the structure
and into the snow.
The way outside was littered with the fallen
bodies of Romulan soldiers -- all of them gone; minds
wiped in a way Lyss promised she wouldn't do again.
Yet the only thing that Troi could think of as
she numbly surveyed the battleground, was the sound
of Will Riker's voice in her head, matter-of-factly
reminding her of the question she could never bring
herself to ask: 'what do you when you're faced with
death? When it's you or it's them and the only
weapon you have is--'
Deanna turned away from all of it, retching
near the edge of the woods where the clearing tapered
off.
Though he glanced worriedly in Troi's
direction, Riker laid Darya on the ground in front of
the door and began to search her jacket. He was
looking for something, and it took him nearly a
minute until he'd found it. A tiny oval pin, not
unlike the Starfleet communicators they wore on
active duty. He tapped it twice, and a voice on the
other end came back with authority.
<Lyss, where the hell are you?>
"Commander Morgan," Riker assumed.
<Who the hell is this? Where's Lyss?>
"She's half dead and laying on the ground in
front of me. Six kilometers north, north-east of
lake Klutina. We've got the cure commander, but the
whole god-damned human race is going to die if you
don't get here in under five."
<Jesus Christ,> the voice came back, <I'm on my
way. Be there in three. Morgan out.>
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 144
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Who has not hoped
To outrage an enemy's dignity?
Who has not been swept
By the wish to hurt?
And who has not thought that the impersonal world
Deserves no better than to be destroyed
By one fabulous sign of his displeasure?"
-J. Bronowski
------------------------
Lyss was barely breathing when the s-and-r
arrived. Hovering over a cloud of wind-blown dust
and snow, the nacelles of the Valor-class vessel
glowed a brilliant shade of crimson in the eerie
darkness.
Commander Morgan sat in the pilot's seat,
holding onto the con with one hand and waving Riker
in with the other.
Will stopped at the shuttle-hatch and handed
Lyss off to the other man, but he didn't hop in after
her.
"What are you doing?" Morgan yelled, "get in
here!"
"We're missing a passenger," Riker barked.
"Give me thirty seconds." His eyes met the other
man's and something unspoken passed between them.
Morgan nodded curtly and turned to settle Lyss
against one of the bulkheads.
"You've got twenty seconds!" he called. But
Riker had already turned and disappeared around the
ship.
"Deanna!" He found her on the other side of
the clearing, huddled against a tree. "We have to
go," his voice trailed off when he saw she wasn't
looking at him.
A painful stab of panic sliced his heart for
barely an instant, before she turned her head and two
large eyes met his.
"I know," her shallow voice sounded eerily
calm.
Trading a glance from the hovering ship to
Troi's prone position, Riker came for her without
another word. He lifted her from the ground without
protest, and gathered her into his arms while she
placed her hands at his shoulders with equal
ambivalence.
"You okay?" he was already back at the shuttle
when he whispered into her hair.
Deanna shifted slightly, her body moved against
him when she nodded. "You don't have to carry me,"
she mumbled. But she hadn't stopped him, even so.
"I know," he answered back, climbing into the
s-and-r hatch, still holding her in his arms. How he
managed it was something of a feat, but Riker made it
inside. And no sooner had his boots touched the edge
of the titanium flooring than the ship lurched
forward and the hatch whined shut against the wind.
"You got your passenger?" Morgan's eyes
remained on the task of flying the ship.
"Yeah," Riker nodded, settling Deanna on her
feet. He looked up over her shoulder at their pilot,
"thanks," he added.
He owed him one, this Commander Morgan, and it
seemed to him that the other man knew it, too.
"Sparks," Riker looked down at Troi. Though
her eyes held his, she opted not to speak. "I'm
sorry," he whispered under his breath.
Deanna turned away from him and moved to sit on
a bulkhead. Her movement settled her next to Lyss,
and Riker watched them both for a few seconds.
Troi checked the other woman's pulse and then
rummaged in a rusted wall-kit for something to cool
the feverish heat of Darya's skin. It was something
to keep her occupied as well, because she obviously
wanted nothing to do with him right now.
Riker sighed. He found it difficult to blame
her for that. But there were so many other things to
worry about right now, he had to leave this one for
later. If there even was a later. Will wrapped a
set of neutral thoughts around the invisible dagger
in his chest and numbed the ache. Turning back into
the ship, he sat in a chair at tactical, opposite
Commander Morgan.
"We need to get to San Francisco." It was a
statement, as much as a demand.
"Yeah, and I need a new job and two weeks of
shore-leave on Risa," Morgan smiled, "I know where
I'm going."
"No you don't." Will's cold blue eyes settled
on the other man's dark expression. "I know a
doctor. A good one, but we have to get to San
Francisco to see her."
"I know a few doctors myself, Commander Riker,"
Morgan shrugged, "and I have my orders."
"She'll die." Riker grabbed the other
Commander's shoulder.
"We're going to Section Base 16." Morgan's
eyes never wavered.
"Do you give a damn?" Will stood to his full
height, towering over the pilot's station. A fact
which didn't seem to phase Commander Morgan so much
as the words Riker spoke. "Do you know those
doctors? Or do you *know* those doctors?" he
demanded, "because if you don't *know* those doctors,
Commander, she's going to die," his gaze flickered
backward on the two women behind them. "In the name
of some damn security protocol, she's going to be
killed. You know it, and I know it." Their gazes
locked.
Morgan was the first to look away. "Shit," he
muttered, "Shit!" adding a few more expletives that
Riker knew were probably for good measure. "All
right. God damn it, we'll go to San Francisco!"
Morgan rounded in his chair and grabbed Will's arm
before either of them could move. "But you'd better
be right about that doctor," he warned.
"I am." Riker's nod was confident and
deliberate; enough to send Morgan's attention back to
the flight while Will turned slowly away.
Beverly was the best. The best he knew and
probably the best in the Federation. He only hoped
like hell that it wouldn't be too late, even for her.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 145
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be
known."
-Carl Sagan
------------------------
"I knew it!" Beverly Crusher looked up from
her task and gestured excitedly at her comrade in
subterfuge.
"Dare I ask?"
"Jean-Luc, there aren't any explanations right
now," she shook her head as though his query had been
utterly moot, "only more questions."
"You sound like a mad scientist, Beverly, and
quite frankly, you're beginning to worry me." He
threw her a look and then rose from his chair to
stand near the desk she'd been sitting at.
When she removed herself from her concentration
long enough to smile gamely at him, he managed
serious frown. "What exactly is -in- there?"
"An answer!" Crusher smirked.
"I thought you said there weren't any answers,
only more--"
"Explanations," Beverly clarified, "I said
there weren't any explanations. I didn't say I
hadn't found an answer."
Leaning forward so that their bodies were in
fairly close proximity, Picard met her sparkling gaze
head on. "I'm going to strangle you in a moment, you
realize."
He spoke without a hint of humor, but she knew
him better than to take any of his more severe
expressions at face value. In fact, the longer they
spent any length of time together -- away from
Starfleet and away from the protocol of uniform
morality -- the more things seemed to regress to the
way they once had been. When she had known him as a
first year cadet, before either one of them had ever
set foot on the bridge of a Starship. Before he was
a Captain and she was a Doctor. When he'd tutored
her in second year quantum mechanics in exchange
for...
"You're blushing, doctor," Picard interrupted
her silent train of thought with a puzzled
expression. "And I can't imagine how whatever you're
looking at under that microscope would have that
effect on you..."
"I'm sorry," Beverly bit back another smile,
"my mind was wandering there for a moment."
"I can see that." He smiled enigmatically;
close enough so that his shoulder brushed against
hers. "What have you found?"
"I sequestered some bio-samples from the
Enterprise." She met his look of surprise with level
patience.
"You communicated with the Enterprise?" Picard
took a breath, and it was obvious he wasn't pleased.
Their mandate from the moment they'd left quarters in
Starfleet Command had been to keep away from any
means of correspondence that Section 31 might be able
to follow.
"Yes," Beverly confirmed, "but not recently. I
thought I might be able to conduct a little research
while we were down here for the JAG investigation, so
I took the sample with us when we left the ship." She
smiled and shrugged. "I guess this is one of those
times that my being a workaholic has managed to pay
off."
Unperturbed by her humor, but visibly less
worried, Picard began to nod, "Go on?"
"I took a reading from the Ketrion device we
dismantled on Cerrus' moon. It was covered in a
thin, frozen substance. Will's hazard suit was also
coated and so was Deanna's. We quarantined both
suits, but I never analyzed the substance until now.
It didn't read through the bio-hazard filters as a
potential threat," Crusher peered once more into the
tiny aperture on her desk.
"And now you've revised that reading?" Picard
asked.
"Yes. When Lt. Lyss and Cmdr. Flynn informed
me of the virus, I wondered how enough of it could be
disseminated to Cerrus' atmosphere or even the deep
space station without substantial risk to the
pathogen in space." Her eyes lifted and locked with
his, "and that's when I began to consider the
possibility that it was never meant to be
disseminated by the actual explosion."
"A ruse?" Picard whispered under his breath.
"Exactly," she nodded, "a Ketrion explosive
sitting up there on a deserted moon for seventeen
years without going off? It was a prime target for
Starfleet to attempt to defuse and dismantle. They'd
send someone up there, or even a team, and that team
would come back--"
"--with the virus all over their hazard-suits.
Dormant and frozen. Not even aware--"
"--until it was too late." Crusher finished.
"Mon Dieu," Picard glanced away from her,
"We've wandered directly into a well concealed
deception. With our protocol and our high ideals, we
may have signed our own death certificates...we've
lost before we've even begun to fight."
"Not exactly, Jean-Luc," Beverly traded one
specimen beneath the microscope for another. The
quarantine shield around the medical instrument
shimmered briefly as her gloved hand passed through
it. "There's always a fight." Her blue eyes lifted,
dark with intent, "and this time, there's also a
catch."
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 146
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"When you make the finding yourself - even if you're
the last person on Earth to see the light - you'll
never forget it."
-Carl Sagan
------------------------
It took Commander Morgan's s-and-r less than
half an hour to make the flight back to the outskirts
of San Francisco. Fewer than five minutes to locate
an angry Commander Flynn after that.
"What do you mean, you -lost- them, Katie?"
Riker demanded, "Beverly Crusher came back here with
you willingly. What happened? Where are they?"
"Gone. Will, I told you, they disappeared
several hours ago. I haven't been able to locate
them."
"Why? Why would they just disappear like that.
Captain Picard isn't the kind of officer who would
leave his ship in orbit without a word. There's
something you're not telling me!" His eyes narrowed
and he looked to her expression for any hint of
insincerity.
For a fraction of a moment, he wished they
hadn't left Troi behind with the ailing Lt. Lyss.
Deanna's personal feelings for him at the moment
notwithstanding, she would have been able to point
out in an instant whether there was any duplicity on
Flynn's part. He supposed they would know soon
enough, anyway.
There wasn't time to argue. Katie's eyes
settled on Cmdr. Morgan, who was leaning casually on
the wall regarding their interaction. The other man
hadn't said a word since they'd left the ship,
slipping quietly into the officer's quad. If
anything, Riker thought he was even less expressive
now that they were inside.
When Katie's eyes returned to Will's, they were
worried. "Is she--"
"Barely," Riker frowned, "and she's not going
to stay that way, either, unless we get her to Doctor
Crusher."
"I have an idea." A new voice came from behind
them all. It was Deanna, and she was standing just
in the rear of Morgan, with her hands across her
chest and an unnaturally serious expression on her
face. "Darya's in a coma." Her eyes found Riker's.
"She won't survive another day."
"You can't know that," Flynn cut in angrily,
"what did you just wave your hand over her and decide
that? You don't--"
"I do know," Deanna sighed quietly, "I'm sorry
Commander Flynn. I wish to the gods I was wrong, but
I'm not wrong. I am a doctor, and though I don't
practice a physical form of medicine, I am qualified
to pronounce whether someone is going to die. Darya
Lyss is going to die, if we don't help her within the
next twenty-four hours."
"Doctor Crusher and the Captain have gone
missing," Riker interjected. "Katie doesn't know
where they've gone or why."
"She knows why," Deanna spoke with abnormally
calm authority.
Will nodded tiredly, unsurprised to hear
Deanna's confirmation of his earlier thoughts. "But
we don't have the time to play semantic tag with her
anymore." He ignored Flynn's scathing look, "and I'm
just about out of options. So if you have an idea, I
think we're all open to hearing whatever it is."
"Beverly has a colleague here in the city;
another doctor with a private practise. If she and
the Captain weren't able to contact the Enterprise,"
Deanna's expression lifted and settled on Flynn, "for
whatever reason," she looked back to Riker. "She
might have gone there to gather whatever resources
she felt she'd need."
"It's worth a shot," Riker turned away from
Flynn and headed directly past Morgan. The two of
them moved to follow, neither operative apparently
willing to further debate the feasibility of the
scenario.
When he brushed shoulders with Troi, Riker
looked down at her and she offered him a glance that
lasted barely an instant. But she looked away again
almost immediately, and he kept right on walking.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 147
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"If you love someone, let them go. If they return,
they were always yours. If they don't, they never
were."
------------------------
"Did you hear that?"
Picard stood carefully next to the door of the
small office that he and Crusher had taken possession
of. A colleague of hers was on sabbatical in another
sector, and Beverly had 'let them in' to the other
doctor's office, stating that it would be perfectly
fine for them to borrow the space for a little while.
Under the circumstances, he hadn't objected. Now,
however, there was something or someone outside, and
his hackles were raised.
"They'd need an access code to get in here,"
Crusher answered his unspoken question, "it might
just be security."
"It doesn't sound like security," Picard's
expression remained on the doorway.
There was a tell-tale beep and then a loud
knock. "Captain?" A voice from without called.
"Captain Picard?"
Riker? Picard's eyes turned to Crusher. She
shrugged her own uncertainty, tapping a series of
buttons on a nearby console. The panel next to
Beverly's arm flickered to life and a comm-screen
displayed Will Riker standing just outside the
doorway.
"Captain, this is Commander Riker. If you're
in there, I've brought Counselor Troi with me, as
well as Commander Flynn. We have a situation, sir.
Is Doctor Crusher with you?"
Exchanging a brief look with Picard, Crusher
lifted the access restriction on the entrance. The
doorway slid wide and four officers moved inside,
carrying a fifth.
"What the devil?" Captain Picard strode forward
to meet them. "What's happened?" His eyes traveled
from the obviously unconscious woman in Commander
Riker's arms, to the grave face of Counselor Troi.
"It's the virus, Beverly," Deanna spoke first.
"Darya's got it, and the box that give it to her is
in here." Troi's small hand extracted a tiny silver
container from within the folds of a bag she wore on
her back. "The cure is apparently tied in to the
pathogen itself. Darya contracted the virus on
purpose."
"Holy God." Crusher sucked in a breath, "get
her in here, set up a quarantine field." Her eyes
met Deanna's. "You were all exposed, weren't you?"
"Will was. I was." Deanna nodded, "If it
isn't airborne yet, then neither Commander Morgan nor
Commander Flynn are at risk."
"I'm going to have to take the two of you into
isolation--"
"I know," Troi nodded again.
"Just until I've had a chance to make sure
you're unaffected." Beverly sounded even more
apologetic than she looked, but Deanna only shrugged.
"Thinking of going private practise?" Troi
noted with a diminutive smile, looking from Crusher
to the furniture of the modest laboratory enclosure.
It was the first indication of personality that Riker
had seen in her for several hours, and Crusher
managed a small smile in return.
The stasis field went up around Darya within
moments. Releasing her onto a bio-bed, Riker
followed Beverly's directions to enter an adjacent
room.
It was tiny. Not unlike a prison-cell, except
that it was completely sterile; white on three walls
with a fourth that undoubtedly held an invisible
stasis field. It hadn't been activated yet.
As he turned to look back out into the room,
Will saw Deanna approaching behind Beverly. She
entered the same space that he was standing in and
she sat down on a plain metal bench without comment.
A brief flicker indicated the activation of the
quarantine field, after which Riker was able to watch
Beverly don a sterile suit, cross the threshold of
the bio-bed, and begin tending to Darya Lyss.
Commanders Flynn and Morgan sat near the back
of the laboratory, talking in hushed tones. Every
once in a while, Flynn's eyes would settle on Darya
and then on the Doctor, but Katie never moved from
where she stood.
After only a few moments, the Captain
approached Riker and Troi. He stood outside the
energy field and regarded both of his officers with
grave appraisal.
"It would seem you've been on quite an
adventure, Number One. Counselor," he addressed them
each in turn.
"You could say that, sir," Riker allowed
himself the luxury of a half-smile. "I suppose I
have the time to fill you in now, since there isn't
much else to do..."
Riker glanced behind him to gauge Deanna's
response, but she seemed apathetic. She'd taken her
arms and wrapped them around her knees where she sat
on the bench. Obviously, she'd opted to defer to him
in this report, acknowledging the Captain with little
more than a professional nod.
With an indrawn breath and a slow exhale, Riker
turned away from her. He began recounting, from the
moment of the kidnapping...
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 148
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Tell me who your friends are, and I will tell you
who you are."
------------------------
Beverly knew something. Watching her from his
vantage point, Riker couldn't help but frown.
Whatever it was she thought she understood, she
wasn't sharing it. Not with present company at
least. He had a sneaking suspicion that she had
already shared it with the Captain.
In the hours which followed Picard's de-
briefing of his officers, time became a relative
term. Crusher's tireless vigil seemed to take her
from the small laboratory to Lyss' bedside and then
back again. She'd come to collect blood samples from
both Riker and Troi nearly forty minutes earlier.
But as of yet, she hadn't returned to talk.
And then there was Deanna. With her back to
the wall and her legs still tucked up beneath her,
Troi sat staring thoughtfully through the quarantine
field. Her eyes were on the motion of the room, but
Riker could see as much as feel that her attention
was elsewhere.
He let himself study her features. They hadn't
spoken since their entrance into the quarantine room
together, but she was definitely aware of his
thoughts on her. He could feel it when the touch of
her emotions shifted; when she looked away but she
was thinking of him.
He hadn't stopped thinking of her, either. And
suddenly, it didn't seem to matter that she hadn't
said a word, or that she probably had nothing to say,
even now. He needed to know the answers to the
unspoken questions between them.
"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly, careful
that the others wouldn't hear.
Deanna looked up at him.
"Look I know," Riker sighed, "I know you're
hurt right now and you're angry," he paused at her
neutral stare, "and you have a right to be angry. I'm
not denying that. But whatever else you're feeling,
I just want to know that you're okay. That you're
both okay." His eyes found hers and he shook his
head, "I want to hear you say it."
Deanna's wordless expression frustrated him for
several more seconds.
"Why?" she finally asked.
"Because," Riker knelt in front of her and
placed his arm across her knees. "That's all that
matters to me. It's everything."
Deanna exhaled quickly; it was almost a laugh.
She turned her head and shrugged. "Except when it
isn't convenient for you," her quiet voice came back.
"Except when you feel you can't trust me, or won't
trust me. Except when you think there's something
more important you have to decide." Her dark eyes
narrowed and she added bitterly, "for both of us."
"Be angry with me. Love me, hate me, wish
you'd never met me, but damn it, Deanna, I need to
know that you're okay!" Riker pressed on, unwilling
to budge. Before she could answer, another voice did
instead.
"She's all right, Commander. Physically." It
was Doctor Crusher, who at some point had walked up
behind them and now stood just outside the energy
field. "She and the baby are fine. The virus isn't
airborne."
Riker felt his chest contract with the
involuntary release of his breath. He sighed
audibly, switching gears. "--and Lyss? Is there any
change?"
"She's still not conscious. I've given her
something to stabilize her symptoms for the time
being, but it isn't a cure. I'm still working on
that."
"We know you are Beverly," Deanna cut in, "and
if anyone can find the answers we need, it's you."
"I hope to God you're right, Deanna," Crusher
slowly shook her head. "But I wish we had more
time," the doctor's eyes sharpened. "The cure is in
the strain of virus that Lyss took into her
bloodstream. But she's primarily Betazoid, and the
virus is engineered for the human genome. I'm having
to guess at which symptoms will affect a change in
her, and whether or not I'm taking the right steps to
extract the pathogen... I also wish I had my
instruments on board the Enterprise."
"That isn't possible right now," Riker
interjected, "We ask for help and Section 31 is all
over this. Then we lose Lyss, and probably every
other means we had of keeping this virus away from a
dangerous group of people." He glanced at the bio-
bed on the other end of the room and then back to
Crusher. "Is there any way to slow it down?"
"I don't know," Beverly frowned. "I don't
think so." Her voice sobered even more dramatically,
if that were possible. "Before I lost my train of
thought, Will, there was something else I needed to
tell you."
"About Deanna?"
"No." Crusher let out a breath. "Deanna's
fine. Unfortunately, you're not as lucky." Her eyes
met with his. "I can't know for sure when it
happened or how, but you've tested positive for the
virus."
Will could feel Deanna's whole body tense. He
didn't have to touch her. He knew it when she froze.
"It's working a hell of a lot more slowly in
you than it did in Lyss," Beverly continued, "and the
only reason I can come up with is because she took in
a concentrated amount. You seem to have been exposed
more naturally."
"Get Deanna out of here," Riker rose to his
feet, face to face with the doctor's serious
expression.
"I beg your pardon, the both of you, but I do
exist in this room." Troi snapped angrily, "And I'm
perfectly capable of making decisions for myself."
She also stood, holding her ground opposite him.
"Beverly, please," Riker saw Deanna's eyes
flash, but there was nothing he was willing to
concede.
"He's right, Deanna," Crusher turned to her
friend, "we need to isolate this before it spreads.
We still don't know how to do that."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, doctor," Troi shot
back, "but if you aren't able to synthesize a vaccine
for the pathogen, it won't matter whether I'm in
here, or out there, will it?"
"True," Crusher conceded, "but that doesn't
mean there won't be other alternatives..."
"I don't want another alternative!" Her voice
rose so that the other occupants of the room,
including the Captain glanced over at them.
"Deanna, please," Riker pleaded with her, "if
you won't do this for me, then think of the baby.
Think of our child. I want you to have our child..."
"I am thinking of the baby," she whispered too
quietly. "You don't understand, do you Will? You
keep doing this because you still don't understand."
Eyes bright with moisture, she turned to Crusher,
"Beverly might not understand, I could see that, but
you--?"
Riker saw her eyes and the look she gave him
branded an irrevocable mark on his soul. She felt
betrayed by him. Again. His hand gripped the edge
of a shelf on the wall until the bite of cold metal
sank into his skin, but he welcomed the warm heat of
his own blood, fisting the appendage at his side.
"How can I bring a child into a world that's
dying?" Troi demanded, "Or worse. A world where
otherwise, we might survive, but that child's mother
would never be more than half a person." She turned
at the expression on his face. "You think I'm being
maudlin. That saying 'I can't live without you'
makes me weak," and then she almost laughed, "You
think this is some kind of romantic melodrama?
Believe me, Will Riker, I'm angry enough at this
moment that I'd just as soon shoot you myself as
touch you! But I can't do that, because we're
joined!" she moved toward him, gesturing between
their bodies. "You and I share a link. I suppose
you recall that damnable bond of ours you're so fond
of excusing?" When he chose not to respond, she
glared up at him icily. "Imzadi!"
Deanna's small hand came down hard on the wall,
her fingers pulled back and Riker knew that she'd
hurt them. He looked to her helplessly; noting the
inexorable frustration and the feeling of painful
disappointment he felt from her.
"Whether you choose to understand or not, what
happened between us doesn't end at a wedding, or a
vow. It doesn't end at all. It doesn't stop. It
doesn't 'go away', it doesn't 'fade with time', not
ever again!"
Seizing hold of the front of his jacket, she
pushed him backward half-heartedly. But he was
already at the wall, and so her efforts only served
to punctuate the words she spoke, blurred by the drip
of each fallen teardrop that escaped her control.
"--and if you didn't understand in the moment
that it happened, then maybe it shouldn't have
happened at all, but it did!" she trailed off,
sobbing in frustration.
"I understand... Damn it, Deanna!" Riker shot
back, and then his voice fell and his words were
barely a breath, "I don't want you to die."
"It's too late for that," she countered. "I'm
already dying."
Reaching toward her, heedless of the others in
the room and whether or not they were as privy to the
conversation as Doctor Crusher had been, Will
realized belatedly when Deanna grasped his injured
hand. When she looked to him, and her eyes were
large and filled with sadness. She lifted his hand
to her lips, tasting the salt of the cut in his palm
and closing her eyes.
"No!" He pulled away from her too late.
Beverly had already deactivated the energy
field and gone for Troi in the moment she'd seen the
action coming, but neither she nor Riker had reacted
in time.
It was done. It was over, and Deanna stood
staring at Will from across the immeasurably short
distance between their bodies.
"Deanna," his own eyes burned with the weight
of her decision. But he bridged the gap between them
and folded her unresisting into his arms. "Oh, my
god, what have you done?"
She pulled away from him, staring back
determinedly. "I've made it as real for you as it
always has been for me." Her voice was utterly calm,
"There's no difference, Will. Except that now, maybe
you'll see it as it is."
Riker stood motionless; looking across the
short expanse of their tiny cell and into Deanna's
resolute expression. He knew for a fact that there
were tears in his own eyes.
Without a word, without an argument or even a
rebuke, Beverly Crusher stepped backward from the
tiny enclosure and punched the stasis field back up.
She left them in silence, probably as angry at Deanna
as Riker was with himself. Only Crusher said nothing
at all, returning instead to the bio-bed where Darya
Lyss lay still in a coma.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 149
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength;
loving someone deeply gives you courage."
-Lao-Tzu
------------------------
When Riker opened his eyes, the first thing he
recognized was Beverly Crusher. Still hard to task,
she worked at a piece of medical equipment he
couldn't begin to identify. And she was lost in her
own thoughts.
The Captain had joined the two Section 31
operatives and now stood off in a corner of the
medical office, discussing something which ostensibly
had relevance to their current situation, but which
Riker wasn't able to hear.
Using a moment to recapture his bearings, Will
realized he had probably fallen asleep not more than
two hours ago. He and Deanna had been sitting at
opposite ends of the quarantine suite, and the
seconds had begun to tick by like full days between
them.
At some point, he'd let himself relax a little.
Allowed his thoughts to drift... and then he woke
from a brief period of restful incognizance, to the
impact of a harsh and relentless reality. His head
was heavy with the slight tickle of disorientation,
and his face felt unusually warm.
So did his torso, and there was a weight there
as well, but this one was bearable.
Bringing his hand up and placing it gently
against the edge of Deanna's hair, Riker let his
fingers slip through the tumble of ebony curls across
his chest. She, at least, was still sleeping. He
could tell by the peaceful sense of her he felt. The
easy way she was breathing and the powerful,
uncensored emotion that beat for him in her heart.
In slumber, Deanna let go of her anger;
released the stubborn block she'd dropped into place
and he could feel her as deeply as he had on the
night of their wedding. It nurtured the heavy ache
in his chest. It made him whole again, so that he
didn't even wonder when it was she'd crossed the room
and huddled in his arms. Or if she'd done it without
actually meaning to. It didn't matter, anyway.
He drank hungrily through whatever strange and
wonderful sharing their connection provided. He let
it flood his spirit, because once she awoke, he felt
certain she would pull away again. And it was like a
drug for him; insanely -- the more of her he felt,
the more wanted, day-by-day.
Maybe it was all some kind of elaborate
Betazoid plot; a ploy to take over the universe
hundreds of years ago. Riker smiled at that, feeling
certain that no man or woman who'd felt the kind of
link they shared could ever want to break it. It had
to be -something- at the very least, but he was
already lost to it.
Deanna shifted on him. Her body moved and she
began to wake. He felt that too, and the moment her
eyes slid open. Riker held her for a moment longer;
closed his eyes and caught the imprint of the instant
in his memory. It would be gone in a second.
And then it was.
Deanna pushed away from him, sitting up,
disoriented. "What happened?" she asked, still
struggling with wakeful consciousness.
"We fell asleep." Riker shrugged, "It's only
been about an hour and a half."
Troi's uncertain expression settled on him.
She seemed mollified by his explanation, however
neither one of them had planned on passing out.
Riker watched her wake in increments, noting
all of the familiar things he'd come to recognize in
the process. Her hand pulled backward through her
hair, loosening it. But then the block came down
again. As though she'd only just realized she'd
misplaced it.
Deanna's eyes found his as the shield she wove
slid back into place. She knew that she was stronger
than he was in that area; that he wouldn't be able to
counter her argument, even if he'd wanted to. But
what she may not have realized -- was that he'd never
seen much point in wanting to, either. If she needed
it to be this way, then that was what he'd give her.
The thing was, he'd never lived with a constant
link to anyone else in his entire life, and now it
seemed that having it there and then not there -- at
least in part -- was more frustrating than actually
hurtful. It seemed to hurt more when it came back,
than when she kept it from him.
As though she'd read his thoughts, Deanna's
expression suddenly changed. She dropped her head
and there were tears in her eyes again. The kind
she'd never been very good at hiding.
"I'm sorry," her quiet apology came back to him
along with the slow, careful removal of the mental
barrier she'd only just thrown into place. Her dark
eyes lifted and locked with his. "I'm so sorry," she
repeated, moving as the last of the shield
disappeared. "You don't deserve this," Deanna's body
came forward and her hands took his face between
them. "You never did."
For a moment, there was nothing for Riker but
stunned silence. The argument, along with all of the
anger he'd sensed in her over the past several hours
seemed suddenly and completely to vanish. It was
over. And he wasn't even completely certain how that
was, or why; wasn't certain of anything, but that
she'd lifted the barricade.
It seemed to him that someday, he might
actually know what to do with this kind of an
argument. For the moment -- he could only feel
relief. It was accompanied by a profound sense of
remorse and affection, both of which came from
Deanna.
His arms wrapped around her and he hugged her
with the full force of what he was feeling. "We'll
make it through this, Sparks," he encouraged, hands
returning to her hair. "We will."
"You're so warm..." Deanna backed away from
him several inches. Her hand flew to his forehead
and then the side of his face. "You have a fever,"
the whisper of her voice trailed off.
"I know," he shrugged slightly. "But I feel
fine."
"Liar," she came for him again and wrapped her
arms around his torso, pulling their bodies so close,
he wondered for a moment whether she was going to
allow him to continue to breathe. "You have to stop
doing that," she admonished him after a time. "Even
for the little things. You have to realize that
there's no point in anything but being completely
honest with me. When we were friends, it was
different, and I could let it go. But I can't do
that anymore. I need to know that your honesty will
be the one true thing I can always count on. Even
when you think it might hurt me to share that truth.
The alternative is worse."
"I understand that," he sighed, "and I'm sorry.
I'm human, Deanna, and in case you hadn't noticed,
we're not always one hundred percent honest. It's
not that I set out to keep things from you, or to
hurt you, you know that's not true... It's just that
I can't help those things, or wanting to keep the
people I care about safe. Maybe we're both going to
have to work on understanding this, together.
Because I know you realize it's true -- in theory --
you're a psychologist, how could you not? But I also
know it's different being married to someone who
can't be everything you grew up knowing was right."
Riker saw the light of her expression shift
toward acceptance, and it prompted him to continue
with another truth.
"Deanna, ever since I was a kid, whenever I
wanted to protect someone, it usually meant I had to
lie; to hide the truth at the very least, not share
it," Riker took her face in his hand, "so have a
little faith in me?" he smiled crookedly. "I promise
you that I'll never hurt you on purpose. There are
times when I feel like I'm getting to know you for
the first time all over again. It scares me, a
little, and I'm going to make mistakes along the way.
I'm not always going to understand-- even when I want
to and even when I should. I'm new at this 'sharing'
thing. And new at being honest about everything I
feel. That doesn't mean I don't care."
Deanna stared at him in silence for several
long moments. She seemed to take in everything he'd
said, and then she nodded. Drawing her arms around
his larger frame, she placed her cheek against his
ear.
"--or that I don't love you so much it hurts to
breathe," Will added wryly.
Deanna went slack in his arms and gently pulled
away. A look of appraisal followed and she touched
his face again. "I don't think that's because you
love me, Will."
"Maybe not," Riker's eyes slid shut and he
swayed against the wall.
"Beverly!" He heard Deanna's voice cry out a
moment later, her small arms supported his weight
with uncanny strength and he'd meant to tell her not
to worry. But that was before everything went black.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 150
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"I have said nothing because there is nothing I can
say that would describe how I feel as perfectly as
you deserve it."
-Kyle Schmidt
------------------------
"Dea, I'm sorry," Beverly Crusher took her
friend's hand and squeezed it. "There's nothing more
I can do."
"No," Deanna shook her head through a haze of
burning tears, "there has to be something, there has
to be--" her hands fell on Riker's chest and she
sank to her knees next to the bio-bed he lay on.
"There isn't," Crusher's own eyes filled with
empathy, "not until I figure out how to save Lt.
Lyss."
"But you're close..."
"I'm very close." The sharp gaze of the doctor
and the resolution in her heart were the only things
that kept Deanna from venting her anguish on the edge
of the small cot. It wouldn't help anyone if she
broke down right now, least of all Will.
"He's going to make it." Deanna traced the
edge of Riker's face with her hand. Hot, moist
tendrils of hair clung to his feverish forehead. She
released each one, moving them aside with loving
consideration.
"He's going to be fine," Crusher echoed. This
time, there was the faintest note of uncertainty in
the doctor's feelings. Troi could sense it, but she
chose to pretend it wasn't there. It couldn't be
there, after all, if he was going to be all right.
"You can sit here with him, if you like. I'll have
to keep the stasis field up, but--"
"That's fine," said Deanna, absently, turning
her attention back to the man on the bed. "Don't you
leave me, Will Riker," her quiet voice interceded,
"not like this."
--o--
"You have one hell of a nerve, Commander
Flynn!" Jean-Luc Picard yanked down on the top of
his uniform. "Do you realize the potential for
catastrophe that Section 31 has 'helped along' in its
endeavor to maintain clandestine control of this
scenario?"
"Captain, with all due respect, you have no
right to--"
"I have -every- right!" He rounded on her, "two
of my officers have been kidnapped and forced to
cooperate in an operation, against their will.
They've been threatened, not only with their own
lives, but with the fate of an entire species, and
the very organization which should have -sworn- to
protect their lives, seems bent on destroying them!"
"We're not trying to destroy anything," argued
Flynn, "we're trying to keep the damn Tal'Shair away
from the cure. And you should know better than
anyone what would happen if they got it!"
"Save that you lead them here to begin with."
The Captain scowled, "and will your comrade pay the
price now? Will my first officer? Perhaps both of
them will die now in the name of your secret!"
"And you think STARFLEET would have done so
much better with this? Hand it over to a bunch of
high and mighty, arguing, bureaucratic Admirals and
'hope for the best'? We'd all be dead by now!" she
fired back.
"We may still be," Picard droned, turning away
from her in order to gather his composure.
"Look, we're all here right now because we
agree on one thing, neither Starfleet Command, nor
the Section is going to handle this the right way.
If we want to see Lyss and Riker alive again, we're
going to have to take care of this ourselves."
"We?" Picard asked incredulously "Ourselves? I
don't think so, Commander."
"You have a 31 operative on that table who
sacrificed her life to bring you that cure!" Flynn
rounded in anger.
"Really? From what I've heard, she sacrificed
her life to save her cousin's."
"Don't kid yourself, Captain," Katie smirked,
"They haven't known each other that long."
"But you -have- known Will 'that long', haven't
you, Commander Flynn?"
"That has nothing to do with this."
"Yet you'd be quite willing to see him die now
if your 'objectives' aren't met, isn't that so?"
Picard went on, relentlessly.
"You bastard!" Flynn launched herself at
Picard, stopping only when Commander Morgan's strong
arms wrapped squarely around her waist and pulled her
back.
"That's enough, Katie." warned Morgan, but his
words were carefully spoken, and she seemed to relax,
albeit unwillingly. "We aren't here for a fight."
This time his expression locked with Picard's.
"And neither are we," the Captain met Morgan's
stare head on. "But I want to make something very
clear, Commanders. This 'operation' is no longer
yours to command. It's no longer yours to do with as
you see fit. Not when the lives of my officers are
at risk."
Their loggerhead lasted only a moment more
before Crusher's presence intervened.
"Captain," she placed her hand on Picard's arm,
turning his attention. "There's something I think
you should see."
Beverly's cool blue gaze implied that whatever
the 'something' was, it wouldn't be a welcome sight.
Picard exhaled. "Of course, doctor."
He touched her shoulder lightly, and together
they moved back into the room -- heading for a bio-
bed on which Commander Riker lay very still.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 151
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Nunc scio quit sit amor."
Latin, "Now I know what love is."
------------------------
Trapped in repose, Will Riker looked very like
a sleeping statue. The Captain followed Doctor
Crusher to the other end of the infirmary, and
together they stood over a bio-bed.
"What is it?" asked Picard, standing stoically
behind Beverly.
"He's not responding to the stabilizers I gave
Lt. Lyss."
"But you said that his progress was slower."
"It was. Until he passed out. Jean-Luc, I
think he's going to die in less than an hour unless
we can stop it." Beverly's voice was hushed and her
eyes glanced out at where Deanna was leaning over a
sink, letting a trickle of cool water slide over her
hands. She seemed oblivious to everyone else in the
room, and Picard was suddenly certain he knew why
Beverly had chosen this particular moment to call him
aside.
"Can we stop it?" he asked.
"I don't know. God, what if I can't? What if
he doesn't make it through... what do I say to
Deanna?" Crusher looked away from Troi and back
toward Riker's unmoving form.
"That you loved him as we all did. And you
tried everything within your power..."
"That isn't good enough!" Beverly rounded on
him, and he could see the cold uncertainty in her
expression.
"It's all we have," Picard sighed, "Beverly,
you're the best doctor I've ever known. And I say
this as your commanding officer as well as your
friend. You know how much I care for Will. All of
us do. But I maintain that if you are not able to
find the answer in time, then I simply don't believe
that anyone else could, either."
"You have too much faith in me, Jean-Luc," she
looked away from him, "It isn't right that I should
have been the only doctor to try."
"I have just enough faith in you, doctor. And
this is no time for self-pity." Though he loathed
the reproach, Picard noted sadly that it had achieved
its effect. Beverly looked up at him, and he could
see that she had realized he was right. Looking
over at Troi, the Captain frowned slightly, "Has
Deanna begun to exhibit any symptoms?"
"No," Crusher shook her head. "While she was
sleeping, I took another sample of her blood.
There's no trace of the virus. At this point, I'm
beginning to imagine that it's possible she doesn't
have it at all."
"But how can that be? You said she came into
direct contact with it."
"She did," Beverly nodded, perplexed, "I don't
understand it just yet, but I--" her explanation
halted abruptly and her blue eyes grew wide. "Wait a
second! Jean-Luc," her voice grew louder, "I-- I have
an idea! It may be the answer, it's been right in
front of me all along!"
Before Picard could formulate a response,
Crusher snatched up a hypo-spray from a nearby table
and headed directly for Troi. Her footsteps took her
directly behind the empath, with the Captain close in
tow.
"Deanna," asked Beverly, "if I told you that
there might be a way to save Will, and Lt. Lyss, but
that it might endanger both you and ... your child."
The Counselor's face paled visibly and Picard
took a proper step backward when he realized what
Crusher was asking. It was obvious that Deanna's
thoughts hadn't turned to her own welfare, she was
thinking of the baby that grew inside of her.
"What, what are Will's chances if..." Deanna's
eyes turned to Crusher first and then her Captain.
Picard exhaled sadly.
"He won't survive the hour," answered Beverly.
If Deanna's face was pale before, it drained of
all further color.
"Do it," she whispered so quietly, they almost
hadn't heard her. Crusher looked as though she were
going to explain more, but Troi belayed her,
"Whatever it is."
With a solemn nod, Beverly took Deanna's hand
and led her off to an empty bio-bed. "I promise you
Deanna, I'll do everything I can to--"
Deanna nodded wordlessly. The two women held
eye contact for only a second longer before Beverly
pressed the hypo to the side of Troi's neck. It
hissed quietly, and the Counselor lost consciousness.
Falling backward, Troi was helped by the arms of the
doctor, who laid her carefully on the bed.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 152
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"I may not have gone where I intended to go,
but I think I have ended up where I intended to be."
-Douglas Adams
------------------------
"Beverly, the risk to the child..." Picard moved
carefully around a bio-bed where the doctor had
already begun to take readings. Counselor Troi lay
very still.
"...Jean-Luc, I think I can manage the risk to
the child," Crusher's eyes settled on him, "but if we
don't do this now, Will is certainly going to die."
"Do you think he would condone your placing his
child in danger? Or Deanna... if you manage to save
his life, and anything has happened to either of
them," Picard glanced down at Troi, "he may never
forgive himself."
"...or me," Beverly sighed, "I know that. But
Jean-Luc, I have to try. Don't you see that? I let
Deanna die once, I stood by and let her go. And
maybe there was nothing I could do about that, but I
watched what it did to him. There's something I
*can* do here, and I'm willing to take the risk..."
The Captain and the Doctor locked eyes, and for
a moment, Picard was about to say more. But the look
in Beverly's expression was one of absolute
conviction, and so he swallowed the dark sense of
foreboding he felt and opted to trust her instead.
"Very well, doctor." He lifted his hand and
placed on the edge of her shoulder. "Do what you
feel is necessary."
"Thank you," Beverly smiled briefly, but her
eyes were on the Counselor within seconds. "Jean-
Luc," she called as he began to depart, "would you
bring the stasis-unit with the silver box? I'm going
to need it.
--o--
When he returned with the box, Picard found
Crusher working with an instrument he didn't
recognize.
"What is that?" he asked her, laying the tiny
containment-unit next to the table.
"It's a genetic resonance scanner."
"Oh, of course, yes," Picard mumbled, looking
up to find Beverly half-smiling at him.
"It's actually fairly new in the medical
field," Crusher added, still amused with the
Captain's flustered expression. "Among other things,
it can give me an analysis of the genetic effects of
a pregnancy."
"And this will help us?"
"I think so," she murmured, inserting a gloved
hand through the stasis field of the containment-
unit. Beverly lifted the small silver box and opened
it carefully.
Inside, was a single glass plate, which she
removed, and transferred to the scanner in her other
hand.
"There you are..." Crusher mumbled beneath her
breath, staring down at a monitor which was
ostensibly connected to the scanner's output.
"There, you see that?" she tapped her finger on the
screen, causing Picard to squint at it.
"I see... nothing recognizable," he frowned.
"The dark area, there," Beverly indicated, "if
that's what I think it is, then Robert Riker had this
done even more ingeniously than any of us
realized..." she trailed off thoughtfully.
"Beverly..?" Picard finally pressed, "that
surely wasn't all you were going to say."
"Jean-Luc, the cure to the virus doesn't need
to be engineered at all, and it certainly didn't
intend for anyone to have to get the virus first and
then die for it." Crusher continued working, tapping
several entries into the bio-console near Deanna's
bed. "If I'm right about this -- and it looks like I
am -- the cure is not intrinsic to a Betazed/Human
hybrid adult at all. It's intrinsic to a
Betazed/Human hybrid *child*, specifically, a
Betazed/Human hybrid child _before_ the birth-stage."
In the moments that followed, the computer
beeped twice under Beverly's deft instruction, and
suddenly her eyes lifted and she exhaled a short
breath of air.
"That ought to do it," she whispered softly, "I
think the cure was meant to be extracted from a
tissue sample of the unborn child. I don't think
that Robert Riker ever meant for this to go on as
long as it did. I think that box," she tipped her
head to the containment field, "was engineered for
his lover, and the unborn child that she carried.
The baby that Robert Riker encoded for, was Kyle
Riker's half-sister."
"Lt. Lyss' mother?"
"Exactly!" Beverly filled a hypo-spray with
the new substance she'd conjured and turned toward
the captain, "It's so simple, I almost didn't see it
at all... maybe he was banking on that," the doctor
paused and then moved around the bed.
"Who?" asked Picard.
"Robert. I didn't realize at first why Deanna
hadn't gotten ill. She'd been exposed to the virus,
but she was fine. It was because she was pregnant,
and the fetus was the key. The moment this
particular strain of the virus was introduced into
her system, her body started producing an antigen to
combat it. That has to be the cure."
Fixing his gaze on Crusher, the Captain began
to nod. "Then it would seem that this ... child ...
is about to save the lives of an entire species."
Beverly was about to respond when the doorway
into the medical office suddenly blew aside at
terminal velocity. There was a commotion in the room,
and several phaser shots were fired before the dust
had finally settled.
When he looked up from his position, holding
Beverly near the floor of the chamber, Picard saw
Commander Morgan, laying lifeless on the other side
of the room. Kathryn Flynn was in the arms of a
Romulan captor, who held a disruptor point-blank at
the side of her head.
And standing over Darya Lyss's bio-bed, was a
human woman the Captain barely recognized. She
looked over the small space, and she was flanked on
either side by several more Romulan guards.
Small and delicate, the woman's features were
almost elfin, but she had the most intense pair of
vivid green eyes he'd ever seen. Picard exhaled a
breath of understanding.
Turning to Crusher, he lifted her slowly to her
feet in order to face their captors. And he
whispered, so that only she could hear the words,
"Enter, Lirel Wells".
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 153
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The future belongs to those who believe in the
beauty of their dreams."
-Eleanor Roosevelt
------------------------
"You have it?" a sibilant voice purred.
L'reh Vehel paced the confines of a small room,
eyes forward and hands behind her small back.
"Almost."
"What does that mean?" the bearer of the voice
came forward in the darkness. "Do not be coy with
me, child."
He had once been a tall man. Such an
observation was obvious. The cloak he wore could
easily have covered two times the body of the woman
in front of him. But his posture had twisted and he
favoured the right side of his body so that he
appeared to be nearly the same height as she.
"There is nothing coy about this situation!"
Vehel shot back, "until we find that cure, we risk
everything!"
"Perhaps," he might have been smiling, "perhaps
not. The cure can be sought out while we work in the
interim. It may take time, but time will be on our
side once the pathogen is released. You have the
source?"
"Yes. Their doctor would not provide it. She
was ... uncooperative. But our scans indicated the
silver object in the containment field. It has been
obtained."
"Good."
"Father," L'reh approached the older man, "I
don't understand why we don't simply--"
"And the officers?" he cut her off impatiently.
"Where did you put them? Is ... he ... with them?"
"He is with them," Vehel paused, "but he is
ill. He is dying."
"Dying..." the old man whispered, "...the
destroyer of worlds is dying. How fitting."
"The Betazoid spy is also dying. Our doctor
does not anticipate that she will survive the night.
Riker will be dead much sooner. The Counselor--"
"How soon?"
Cut off mid-sentence, L'reh opted to shrug.
"An hour. Perhaps more, perhaps less. Our doctor
has examined them all. The doctor and their ship's
Captain are in a separate cell with the woman from
Section 31. We killed the other operative."
"Bring me the woman from Section 31. I want to
see her," coming forward from the shadows, the
cloaked man took hold of L'reh's arm with vicious
urgency. His fingers dug into the fabric of her
uniform and she flinched, but did not draw away.
"Let Riker die," he whispered, "But bring me the
girl..."
"Girl? She is--"
"Bring me the woman," he amended in a hushed
imperrative, "the woman from Section 31."
"Yes, father."
"Yes," the old man watched Vehel leave the room
and he smiled to himself, "bring her to me."
--o--
Deanna Troi woke with a hell of a headache. Wincing,
she raised one hand to her head squinted into the
semi-darkness, blinking until her surroundings swam
into focus.
It was cold. The floor was cold. And it was
hard. Why was she on the floor? Beverly had sat her
down on a bio-bed, she was certain of that.
Placing one hand behind her, she managed to
sit. But her consciousness began screaming the
moment she moved.
Will.
With the finality of a rubber-band snapping
backward, Deanna's mind slammed sharply into focus
and she found that she was not alone.
She was unquestionably on the floor, but she'd
been laying next to two other bodies ... those of
Darya Lyss and Will Riker.
All three of them had been carefully placed on
low metal platforms not more than two feet from the
surface of the ground, and they were definitely not
in any medical facility she'd ever seen before.
Mindful of their change in venue, Deanna opted
not to speak. A quick empathic projection informed
her that no one was within imminent distance, and a
look at the invisible cell-door seemed to corroborate
that fact.
Crawling carefully from her platform, Troi
encountered Darya Lyss first. She placed an ear to
the other woman's lips and lifted her wrist. It
wasn't exactly a medical tri-corder, but it would
prove whether or not she was still alive.
Lyss' pulse was sporadic, but it was there, and
she was breathing. Her fever, however, was worse.
If Deanna had had to take a guess, she would have
said that it was much worse, and without any medical
equipment or instrumentation to aid her, there was
nothing to be done.
With a quiet exhale and a silent apology for
her current inadequacy, Troi skirted the edge of
Lyss' platform and came up next to Will's. His skin
was shining with fever, visible even in the semi-
darkness. But he was cool to the touch.
Her heart lodged firmly in her throat, Deanna
took his wrist in her hand. She placed her head
against the broad expanse of his chest and she
waited, forcing herself to concentrate well enough to
count.
It didn't matter.
Deanna held her breath and she swallowed the
panic which gripped her soul, though she hadn't
understood it before. It also gripped her empathic
sense of Will.
There was simply nothing to count. The pulse
in Will Riker's wrist was gone. His heartbeat had
grown as still as the silence in the room. And there
was no breath between his lips.
------------------------
Chapter 154
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Those who listen to humanity and those who follow in
the footsteps of divinity shall live forever."
-Kahlil Gibran "The Voice of the Poet"
------------------------
Terror ripped through every fiber of Deanna's
being. She knew nothing for the force and measure of
it. Will wasn't dead. He couldn't be gone. He was
alive because ... because she didn't *feel* his
absence.
And that was the spark of desperate hope that
moved her to act. Her empathic sense of him had
taken a drastic dip; one which had confused her, but
it wasn't his death she had sensed. She knew with
sudden certainty that he could not be dead, because
what she was feeling hadn't broached the boundaries
of her ability to reason with it. She could still
cope. And that meant that there was still time.
Launching her smaller body on top of his,
Deanna thrust the ends of her long blue jacket aside
and acted on medical instinct... but as she pressed
the balls of her hands into the tissue over Riker's
rib cage, Deanna realized there was something else
amiss.
She was wearing a long blue jacket. She hadn't
worn a medical jacket since her second year out of
the Academy.
Pulling at the garment in hasty confusion,
Deanna suddenly made the connection. She wasn't
simply wearing a long blue jacket, she was wearing
*Beverly's* long blue jacket. And there had to be
something to that.
Thrusting both hands into her pockets, Deanna
found a small, oval cylinder and yanked it free. She
held it aloft for a fraction of a moment and peered
at the level-indicator in confusion. It was a hypo-
spray, and it was filled to capacity. Enough doses
for nearly a dozen people, according to the measure.
Unfortunately, she had no certain idea what
that meant. And no time to test any theories.
Glancing from Riker to the instrument in her hand,
Deanna slid backward off his torso.
"Gods forgive me, Imzadi," she whispered under
her breath.
In what precious time she had left, Deanna
pressed the head of the hypo against the side of
Riker's neck and sat back, ignoring the tears that
fell silent and unbidden along her face. She
threaded his fingers in hers and pulled her knees to
her chest.
With a nervous backward glance at Lt. Lyss,
Deanna waited.
--o--
"Let me go, you Romulan bitch!"
Kathryn Flynn struggled in vain against the
strong arms of the two male captors who held her.
But her eyes remained on the woman who had ordered
the assault.
"My my, Commander, such language... one might
think you were being harmed. Have my officers been
anything but courteous to you during your stay with
us?" L'reh circled her captive, smiling all the
while.
Flynn's reply was livid silence; accompanied by
a look that roughly translated -- in any language --
to a weapon set on kill.
"You're only going a short distance. To see an
old friend, I think." Vehel's smile grew, "I'm sure
you'll find it quite refreshing, going over old
times."
With a tip of her head, L'reh ordered her
soldiers to drag their struggling captive out of the
room. She watched them only until Flynn had rounded
the corner of the enclosure, and only then did the
smile on L'reh's face begin to slip. Her stoic
composure returned, and she turned to another
officer.
"How long?" she asked, simply.
"Any time now," the officer nodded
respectfully, but his eyes remained always on her.
"And the Betazoid spy?"
"Also a matter of time."
There was a pause between them while L'reh
looked away. "Let them die," she finally spoke.
"And the other Betazoid?"
"Kill her," at this, L'reh smiled again.
"Commander--"
"I gave you an order, doctor," her eyes
narrowed. "Are you having difficulty hearing?"
"No, Commander," the doctor bent deferentially
at the waist.
"Perhaps I will accompany you, Daramar," said
L'reh. "You seem to need ... encouragement."
At such an obvious reprimand, Daramar flinched.
"I need no ... encouragement. It was merely my
intention to express the opinion that she is also
infected with the pathogen. I have no doubt that she
too will perish, with or without our help."
"I did not ask for your opinion, Daramar."
"As you say, Commander," he glanced at the
floor, "and what of the doctor and their captain?
Shall they too be--"
"Not yet, I need them alive. For the moment,
they serve our purpose."
Again, the doctor nodded. "I will see to your
orders."
When Daramar took a step, he looked back at
L'reh to gauge whether or not she would follow. She
didn't. Nor did she turn. And when it was clear
that she was elsewhere intent, he slipped quietly
from the room to attend to his duty.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 155
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The soul is that which denies the body."
------------------------
In the seconds that followed Deanna's final
choice, Will Riker
remained deadly still. Clutching his hand in hers,
Troi stared at
the pallor of his skin and she willed him to live.
But there was no
breath in his lungs, no life in his chest.
All her logic, every cogent, medical bone in
her body told her that
there was nothing more to be done. Not without a
sick-bay or a lab
and the score of equipment that would make and keep
him stable.
Every rational thought she had demanded that she had
made the wrong
choice, and that she had failed.
But Deanna was not rational. Her Imzadi lay
lifeless in front of
her, and she was anything but reasonable.
"Noo!" Landing on top of him, Troi linked her
hands one on top of the
other and thrust them down against his upper torso.
"Don't you die
on me! Not like this! Will, fight!"
Compressing his larger chest required a
strength which some might have placed beyond her
scope. But they couldn't have seen her like this
before. No one had ever seen her like this before.
"Damn you Riker, fight!!" she cried aloud,
heedless of their
surroundings and the unbearable ache which filled her
lungs. Her arms
were nearly dead from exhaustion as well.
"Imzadi!!!" she wailed, collapsing on top of
him, landing face-first
along the length of his broad torso. He hadn't moved
or stirred; hadn't responded at all. And now it
seemed clear that there was truly nothing more she
could do.
Though every muscle in her body cried out in
fatigue, Deanna managed
to lift herself from where she fell. Her eyes were
filled with angry
tears and she could barely see, but she forced
herself to sit.
Straddling Riker's waist, she looked down on
him. And for a time, she kept as still as he... but
then she screamed.
"How dare you give up!!" slamming both fists
hard against his chest, Deanna descended on Will with
the full force of a new and livid passion. "How dare
you! How dare you...." she trailed off, sobbing when
the force of her empathic sense began to merge with
the reality of what she saw.
He was gone. The Starfleet Commander. The
unbreakable, invincible,
unstoppable, stubborn-as-hell man she'd known for
over half her
life. The man she loved so desperately that her body
refused to draw
another breath in his absence.
Will Riker ... was gone.
Falling forward, whether out of defeat or
exhaustion, Deanna felt her teardrops drip wantonly
onto his face. She placed her lips over his and she
closed her eyes as the pressure of her mouth found
the cool edge of his. But there was no eager
reciprocation. No warmth to be found in the breathy
caress of his laughter or the heat of his touch on
her skin. There was nothing at all.
And for the first time in the wholeness of her
life, no matter the contents of the universe, Deanna
knew an emptiness which ripped through her spirit
with merciless vengeance.
She was alone. Utterly. Absolutely.
Finally. Alone.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 156
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"materia mihi crescit."
------------------------
Huddled against the far wall of their cell,
Deanna clutched the upper portion of Will's body in
her arms as the tinny clang of footfalls on metal
approached. She glanced from time to time at the
feverish form of Lt. Lyss, but there was no change in
her either.
Deanna had taken a risk, administering the
contents of the hypo spray to the unconscious Lyss,
just before she'd pulled Riker aside from his
platform-cot. She had little faith that it would do
much, but there seemed nothing to lose any more.
That was nearly four minutes ago, and Lyss lay just
as still as she ever had.
Now there was someone coming. As she lifted
her gaze to meet their intruder, Deanna found herself
face to face with a tall, male Romulan. But what
struck her most of all was that he was wearing a
medical badge. If she remembered her short stay on a
Romulan vessel correctly, the badge on this officer's
neck was that of a ranking doctor.
Blind rage filled her veins and her body
shivered visibly with revulsion when his purpose
washed over her empathic awareness.
He was grim, determined ... detached. He was
going to kill them all. His inaction had already
killed Will...
There was nothing left of the Counselor when
Deanna shifted to her knees, gently adjusting the
weight of her husband's inert form.
Her dark eyes focused, her tears nearly dried,
she looked first to
Darya Lyss, whose face was flushed with fever, and
then raised her attention to the man outside the
cell.
"Well, it seems that one of you is putting up a
fight, at least," the
Romulan, Daramar, smiled acerbically, "it's a pity we
can't keep you
for further study. Did you know that you're
pregnant?" he paused.
Deanna had not spoken at all but kept her eyes intent
upon him.
"I suppose you must have known, being
Betazoid," he clicked his tongue, "a shame indeed. I
truly wish you didn't have to die..."
'die'
Daramar's his voice cut out and a look of shock
crossed his features when the cadence of the word
he'd just spoken echoed back at him in his mind.
It was quiet at first, almost a tickle, until
the word began to repeat. Louder and louder, it grew
from uncomfortable, to painful, to utterly unbearable
within a matter of instants.
His eyes flew to Troi, but she was silent;
staring back at him with wide, black attention.
She'd said nothing at all.
Daramar staggered backward, clutching both
sides of his head in futile anguish. It was his
voice, his word, reflected back at him with a new and
terrible impact.
die
Die
DIE
DIE!!
DIE!!!!
Screaming in agony, the Romulan dropped to his
knees, but the voice --
his voice -- would not stop.
The pressure in Daramar's head continued to
build. It built with every syllable. It grew until
it climaxed, shattering the back of his skull with
the force of a starship torpedo. But there was no
more sound. He was unable, even to scream.
Falling backward, the Romulan hit the floor
with a dull metal thump, writhing and twisting in
agony while a river of blood formed a puddle near his
ear. His body jerked helplessly, once, twice, and
then several times more before he too lay very still.
Troi remained where she knelt, eyes fixed on
the dead man outside their cell door. She sat on her
heels and she turned her head slowly.
"I would have finished it," Deanna whispered, eyes
settling on the platform next to hers.
"No," a groggy, but familiar voice replied.
Lt. Darya Lyss began to rise slowly and deliberately
from the floor. "Good girls like you can't live
without a conscience," Lyss swallowed hard and
groaned, rubbing the side of her head, "besides,
think of my reputation," she managed a small smile,
"I just proved that I can kill an asshole, even in my
sleep."
Crawling toward her, Deanna managed to arrive
in time to grab hold of
Darya just before she fell back onto the platform.
"You shouldn't
try to move yet, your body is very weak."
Lyss muttered a quiet curse and let Deanna help
her back against the wall. "What about--" her
comment froze and her eyes locked with Troi's. "No,"
she whispered.
Without warning, Deanna's eyes filled with
fresh and ready tears.
She blinked them back, but she said nothing, only
shook her head.
"Oh God," said Darya, "It can't be... I'm..."
"Yours was a different strain than his," Troi
managed, swallowing more than her pride. "There
wasn't enough time."
"But we have the cure!" the other Betazoid
argued, "it can't be too late!"
"Darya!" Deanna cut her off, taking hold of
both of Lyss' shoulders so that she could look her
square in the eyes. There was silence for several
seconds before Troi began anew. "Please," she
pleaded. They held that way until Darya looked aside.
"I'm sorry," Lyss whispered, "I'm so sorry,
Deanna."
"I know." Releasing Darya's arms, Troi turned
and made her way back over to Will. "He would have
wanted it this way," she began quietly, "if ... if
any of us had to die. He would have demanded that it
be him."
Deanna's voice was filled with a fierce sense
of pride, and she felt it as well as she knew it.
Whether she hated him for leaving her or not, he had
-- once again -- gotten his own way in the end.
"Lets not let this be in vain."
"Deanna," Lyss lifted her head with a sudden
sense of urgency, "Deanna, you and Riker, you're
Imzadi, right? You can't--"
"I can't leave him here!" Troi rounded on her,
eyes ablaze, "And I refuse to die in this ... place.
I won't!"
All the color drained from Darya's face.
"That's not what I meant," she breathed, "Deanna,
lets get out of here. Lets give these
Romulans exactly what they deserve. But before we do
that ... lets get him back."
"What?" it was Deanna's turn to blanche.
"You know what I'm taking about. You gave him
the cure. You know that it works. It worked on
me..."
"No," Troi shook her head, "we can't."
"YES WE CAN!" Launching herself from the wall,
Darya struggled to her feet, stumbling twice on the
way up. "Damn you and damn your
Betazoid morality, Deanna, don't you love him enough
to try? What of your child?"
"It's impossible..."
"You're *Imzadi* ... You can find him. You may
not be able to do it alone, but I can help you... I
*will* help you..."
"No!"
"This isn't like a mind-wipe, Deanna, no one's
going to get hurt.
They're cowards, all of them! They banned it like
they banned any other mental discipline that could
possibly lead to conflict. Why can't you -- FOR ONCE
IN YOUR LIFE -- break a damn rule!" she grabbed hold
of Troi and shook her with what little strength she
had left. Deanna didn't move, didn't even protest,
though her eyes grew wide when Lyss whispered again,
"you were ready to kill that Romulan out there..."
"I, I would have, I was--" Deanna choked, her
voice trailed off and she dropped her head for a
fraction of a moment. But then she lifted it again
and the look in her eyes when she met the other
woman's level gaze was one she'd never worn before.
"Is it possible?" Her voice nearly broke with the
effort it took to utter the question.
Darya shook her head. "I don't know," she tried
out a half-smile, "I've never done anything like this
before. But I've heard stories."
"Stories," Deanna nodded, eyes burning from the
constant sting of salty-moisture. "Oh, Gods..."
"We do this." Lyss demanded, her voice far
stronger than it had been and growing stronger with
every moment that passed. "We do this now, and if it
works, we thank those Gods, Deanna, and any other
Gods you'd care to name. But how can we not try?"
Uttering a strangled sound, Troi leapt to her
own feet and scrambled around the other edge of the
platform where Will Riker lay. She traced the edge
of his features with her hand and she looked down
into his face, set quietly in peaceful repose.
"I wanted that Romulan to die. I would have
killed him," Deanna whispered finally, closing both
her eyes. "I have no life to answer for."
"You have the life of his child, the life
that's growing inside of you," Darya placed one of
her hands on Deanna's shoulder and she looked down at
Will. "He wants to live, Deanna. He was *denied*
that right."
"All right!" Troi pulled away from Lyss, "We'll
do this," her eyes fell on Will, "for our child," she
whispered, "Imzadi... I have to try..." Her hands
caressed his forehead and then she laid her palm
against it.
Lyss placed her own fingers atop Troi's and
took Deanna's other hand. They sat on either side of
Riker's unmoving form, their eyes locked, and they
exhaled slowly together.
--o--
------------------------
Chapter 157
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"What would be left to strive for
if everything were known?"
------------------------
Riker was dead. He knew this with rising
certainty, through a maelstrom of color which licked
the boundary of his horizon. It rolled over and
under, coaxing and teasing but never revealing...
He was walking, but the landscape was
indiscernible. Barely there, it seemed translucent,
except that there were no truly recognizable shapes
for him to identify.
Though his vision was clear all the way into
the vista, his thoughts were perpetually drenched in
a fog. The only thing he seemed to know for certain,
was that there was somewhere important he needed to
be.
Somewhere... far away.
The walking went on interminably. He'd been at
it for hours. Or had it been days? Maybe minutes or
seconds. Time wasn't very clear for him either. And
so he moved perpetually. Sometimes in one direction,
other times feeling invisibly 'guided' to another.
He wasn't sure where he was going, or why ... but it
had to make more sense than this in-between place.
There were pictures in his memory. Images,
faces, people he thought he might have known. But
they seemed abstract now, and there were feelings he
might have been supposed to relate to, only they were
also mute; far away somewhere -- waiting to be
experienced when he finally arrived -- wherever he
was going.
The colors in the distance began to merge.
Bright pathways transcended their boundaries in the
sky, forming vivid patterns. He recognized one of
them. Finally. There was peace to be found there;
warmth such as he had never felt before. That was
where he needed to be. Where he wanted to go... so
why did he keep looking behind him?
Focusing his gaze on the rolling horizon, Riker
forced himself to take each step without glancing
backward. He was managing. And the closer he came
to the light, the easier it seemed to take each step.
He was almost there. Almost at the end of the
journey, and then he could rest.
The pull behind him was growing stronger. He
shut his eyes, warring with the conflict it created.
He wanted to keep walking. He needed to be
somewhere.
But there was something ...
Stopping reluctantly, Riker turned a final time
and faced in the opposite direction. There had been
nothing there every other time. Nothing but dim
shapes and gray atmosphere. Nothing as beautiful as
the other direction. But this time...
There was something.
There was someone else. She was walking toward
him. How long had she been there? The concept of
time refused to focus in his thoughts. Instead, he
heard her voice. Clear and musical, it filled his
mind with inexplicable warmth.
Deanna?
He knew that voice. The shape of her... the
darkness of her eyes. Riker struggled to
concentrate, but he couldn't hear what she was
saying. It was difficult to make out anything at
all, except the light.
Frustrated, he turned again and started to
walk, heedless of her words. He couldn't understand
what she was saying. But the light was calling to
him. It made more sense now. He understood.
<Imzadi>
Riker suddenly stopped. His thoughts turned
backward and he felt a familiar conflict rise within
him. Caught between one desire and another, he froze
in the midst of a step.
<Imzadi!>
The call was louder this time, desperate,
imperative. And though he hadn't understood anything
else, his spirit knew *that* word.
Riker turned again. She was there, behind him.
Farther away this time, but tangible so that he could
see more of her.
Deanna!
Memories came flooding back. Released as a
torrent through his soul, he felt her, sensed her,
fell in love with her all over again until the
strength of that one feeling overwhelmed everything
else.
Ignoring the pull behind him, he forced himself
to wait as she approached and then rejoiced with her
when she entered proximity.
<Will,> her voice seemed hollow; distant. She
reached for him, but she was insubstantial. He
couldn't touch her. <Don't leave me...> and she was
crying.
Why was she crying? Riker felt the warmth of
the light caress his back. There was nothing to cry
about. The answers were all there, it was
wonderful...
But the more he thought about that, the more
distant Deanna became. Her presence faded slowly;
dimmed as though the grayness had enveloped her. Why
couldn't she come with him?
'Deanna, wait...' his spirit called out to her,
but she was shaking her head.
<I can't... Will, I can't stay here very long.
You need to choose.> Her presence flickered, and
there was panic on the beautiful features he
remembered. <Will! Please!>
'I don't understand,' Riker felt himself drawn
backward, almost against his will. A part of him
accepted that pathway, another felt torn in two.
'Deanna, how do I choose? What do I do?'
She would tell him. She would know. She
always knew these things... But Deanna had faded even
farther into the dim. She couldn't tell him.
She didn't know.
Sliding backward, Riker realized he was closer
to the light than ever before. Two or three more
steps and he could simply cross the threshold. It
would be easy... so easy...
He looked to the brilliance, and then back
again. Deanna was so small... so far away. And
suddenly it hurt. It hurt to move in any direction.
A strange and fathomless pain that wasn't physical at
all. Because there was no physical.
Riker's spirit hurt. And that was surely
impossible, but it did. The step he took toward the
light fell short and faltered. Before him was peace,
understanding. Behind him, was...
'DEANNA!'
He turned away from the light. Riker rounded
on his progress though it took every measure of his
energy. He ripped himself, still burning from a
warm, familiar embrace, and he ran.
Back into the grayness, he ran back into the
dim horizon where Deanna had nearly disappeared.
Every step he took was harder than the last,
but still he moved. Until she was nearer. Until he
could see her again and she was almost upon him.
Until she held out her arms and whether he could
touch her or not, Riker pulled her into his.
<Imzadi,> he felt her sob; felt her presence
pass through him, half way. And every other light
seemed dim in comparison.
She was everywhere. They were together. And
the radiance of their union was large enough to
swallow them both. Even in spirit, Riker held onto
her, and though there was no physical analogy that he
could draw, it seemed that Deanna clung desperately
to him too.
An instant longer; a blinding flash of heat,
and everything was brighter. Deanna's body -- more
tangible. Riker felt the warm press of her breast
against his chest, and the gray began to lift...
------------------------
Chapter 158
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"And the truth, shall set you free..."
-------------------------
"Deanna..." said a soft voice, "Deanna, come
on, wake up..."
"What?" Troi lifted her chin, groggy and
disoriented, she forced her eyes open.
"Are you okay?" a woman -- Lt. Lyss -- helped
her rise. It was then Deanna realized she was laying
face forward on Riker's chest.
"I'm fine," mumbled Troi, refocusing her
attention to the man beneath her. "Will?" she
gingerly lifted her body so that she was sitting.
Straddling his waist, rather than flush against his
torso.
"He hasn't moved," Lyss spoke quietly.
Deanna's heart sank, before Darya added, "but
Deanna... he's breathing again."
"Breathing?" Troi's hands flew to Riker's
pulse. It was there. Not only there, but strong and
the count was good. Better than she'd felt it in
days... "Will," she brushed her hands against his
face, focusing all of her attention on him. "Can you
hear me?"
There was no response. But the rise and fall
of his chest was almost enough for Deanna. "I can
sense him!" she laughed. And then the tears began to
fall. Deanna laughed and cried simultaneously, while
her hands continued on the warm skin of his neck. "I
can feel him! Darya..."
She turned to face the other woman, and Lyss
was also smiling. "I knew you could do it."
"Thank you," Deanna held out her arms and
embraced her, "thank you so much..."
Uncomfortable under the circumstances, Lyss
cleared her throat, "Hey, no problem. All I did was
boost your power source. You did the hard part."
While Troi leaned precariously over Riker to
hug Lyss, a low growl startled them both.
"Either my wife is a lot heavier than I
remember, or Troi Jr. is growing a helluva lot faster
than I realized."
Startled, the two women broke contact and
Deanna began to shift backward off of Will, but two
strong hands clamped her down at the waist.
She yelped in surprise when he sat up with
astonishing agility, wrapping his arms around her.
They were face to face, a millimeter apart.
"Will?" she gasped.
"You were expecting someone else?" Riker's
beard tickled the edge of her cheek.
Deanna threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank
the gods," she kissed him desperately; everywhere she
could find warm skin.
"No," Riker stopped her, forcing eye contact.
He lifted his hand and touched her face. "It was
you. The 'gods' didn't get their way today. You're
the reason that I'm here."
"How much do you remember?" she hadn't more
time to respond before his mouth sealed aggressively
over hers. His kiss drove everything else from her
thoughts.
Lt. Lyss cleared her throat softly. "Not that I
mean to... interrupt such a touching reunion," she
was smirking when they looked back at her with
identical expressions, "but there's still the small
matter of our being trapped in this cell. You,
cous," she smiled at Riker, "I think we can forgive,
seeing as how you were ... temporarily unavailable.
But Deanna and I had to dispatch senor psychopath out
there." Darya gestured at the dead Romulan on the
floor
"They've got Beverly and the Captain as well,"
Troi interjected.
Lyss nodded, "and I think we all have a good
idea who's giving the orders. Now, I don't know how
you two Starfleet poker chums want to handle this,
but I'd say it's just about time we upped the ante."
she raised a petite eyebrow.
Riker and Troi exchanged a meaningful glance.
Deanna's hand slipped into her pocket and closed over
precious cargo. "I think we still have a few chips
left," she whispered, and then everyone smiled.
------------------------
Chapter 159
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for
tomorrow."
------------------------
"Bring her closer."
Two Romulan guards dragged an angry Kathryn
Flynn through a solid titanium doorway.
"That's far enough," a sibilant voice
commanded, "you may leave us."
With only a shared glance, the two guards
released their captive, still bound at the wrists
with a heavy cord. The men stepped out beyond the
boundary of the enclosure and sealed it shut.
"Who the hell are you?" Katie hissed into the
darkness, turning in a slow circle. It was difficult
to see, but her eyes were adjusting to the dim and
she knew it would only be a matter of time.
"Don't you recognize me, my sweet? Can you not
... remember... the time we spent together on
Cirrus."
All the color drained from Flynn's features,
she backed against a cool metal wall and froze. She
knew that voice.
"Marcus?"
"So you do recall," his baleful laughter
sounded hollow in the darkness. "How wonderful. How
perfect."
"What do you want?"
"Me?" Emerging from the shadows, Marcus Wells
appeared in full; crooked and bent, he peered at
Flynn through a pair of razor sharp eyes. "I want
what we all want ... Kit my love."
"Don't call me that!" Kathryn shoved herself
away from the wall, circling farther into the room.
"No one calls me that!"
"Except ... him. He called you that. As I
recall," Wells smiled sardonically, "such a shame
really. His life..."
"What are you talking about?" she edged
forward, but only enough to keep her eyes on Wells.
He hadn't moved at all since his emergence.
"Oh haven't you heard? Poor dear," Marcus
sighed, "Your lover is dead."
"Will," the whisper that fell from her lips was
almost too quiet to hear.
"And so you see it's just us now, my sweet.
Just you and I, together forever. As it should have
been then..."
"You're insane." Flynn forced herself to look
at him, though her eyes were burning. She forced
herself to think of a plan. A way to escape. Her
feelings about Will could wait. She was a section
operative, and she could do this... she could...
"Insane!" Marcus' laughter consumed the
enclosure. "Yes! You're probably right!"
Just as suddenly as the jubilance began, it
suddenly ceased. "But I am also in control, my
love," he growled dangerously, "and you will never
leave this place. You belong to me. Forever..."
"Father," another voice intervened. It came
from the shadows and both Marcus and Flynn turned
toward it.
Wells howled, "how dare you interrupt my
solitude, L'reh!"
"I apologize," she deadpanned, "there is a
matter which requires your attention." L'reh's
expression met with Kathryn's, and there was a moment
when it almost seemed to Flynn that she saw pity in
the young woman's eyes. Pity and ... something
else...
But L'reh looked away, and her attention
returned to her father. "It's urgent."
"THIS is urgent!" Marcus snapped, "and you are
testing my patience!" He suddenly paused, glancing
from Kathryn to L'reh and back again. A macabre grin
adorned his features. "She is beautiful, isn't she,
my sweet?" his remark was pointedly directed toward
Flynn while he whispered... "so like her mother."
"No..." Katie shook her head, "You liar!" she
yelled, loud enough so that even L'reh's eyes widened
in confusion. "You lying bastard!" Lunging forward,
Katie landed on Wells with a sickening crunch, her
hands came down hard against the side of his head,
but she was only able to do minor damage before she
was yanked to her feet and thrown aside.
The young Romulan woman knelt next to her
father, helping him to rise. Her eyes shot backward
and she fixed Kathryn with a look of livid fury,
raising her hand to her chest in order to call back
the guards.
"No," Marcus gasped, struggling forward. "Call
no one. I am fine."
L'reh lowered her hand suspiciously, still
holding the brittle man in her arms.
"Did you think," he wheezed, "that I would not
go looking for our child?" and then his laughter
returned, a soft and sibilant sound, "that you could
send her away and never see her again? Never be
reminded of our past."
He was on his feet now, but L'reh was the one
who had backed off.
"Father, what are you talking about?" her eyes
glanced backward and forward between the two other
occupants in the room. Marcus ignored her. His full
attention seemed focused on Kathryn.
"You were barely a woman when you had her," he
smirked, "but I discovered your secret. Yes... I took
her when no one else wanted her. A Romulan half-
breed!" he sneered, "good for very little in the
Empire. Distrusted, even among the humans. But I
was there. I was a good father. I raised her
myself."
"Father!" L'reh broke through his words with
her shout.
"Child!" he rounded on her, eyes flashing even
in the dim, he hurled a crooked finger at Katie, "I
introduce you to your mother!"
L'reh turned, as though she were caught in
slow-motion. Her mouth fell open, her eyes widened
with imminent comprehension.
With barely a discernable sound, Kathryn Flynn
fell back against the wall.
------------------------
Chapter 160
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"The greatest use of life is to spend it for
something
that will outlast it."
------------------------
"Come now, L'reh, you've upset your mother."
Marcus Wells walked slowly toward Katie's slouching
form.
L'reh was speechless. She'd backed off several
steps, shaking her head. "It isn't true," she
whispered, "you told me my mother was dead..."
"She was dead," Wells shrugged offhandedly,
"for all intent and purpose. Was she there for you
as a child? Did she CARE for you?" his shining eyes
turned on her, forcing the younger woman backward
another step. "No. But *I* was there. And
circumstances have changed."
"My darling," his attention shifted to Flynn,
"do get up. It's so unbecoming of a woman to cower
on the floor."
"I'm not cowering you bastard, I'm THINKING!"
Kathryn hopped suddenly to her feet, eyes narrow with
rage. "What have you done to her?"
"Such concern," Wells made a clicking sound,
"and all these years she thought you didn't care."
He turned toward L'reh, "isn't that right child?"
"You've turned her into a monster!" Kathryn
held herself at bay, but she was shaking with rage,
and her eyes left 'Liriel', only to settle on Marcus.
"I am ...not... a monster," L'reh came forward
herself.
"No," Flynn dropped her gaze, "you're a slave."
"I'm a soldier. I do as I please." The young
woman's voice was deadly calm.
"You do as HE pleases!" Katie shot back.
"Ladies, ladies," Marcus smiled, "Please don't
fight."
"You're killing your own people," Flynn went
on, dropping her head, "you're killing us all ... for
him."
"HUMANITY is not my concern!" L'reh growled,
"they abandoned me. And for that matter, so did you!
What possible difference could their survival make in
a war? How dare you condemn me for my loyalty!"
"There is no war, Liriel," Katie's voice broke.
It hurt to speak her child's name ... after so many
years. It felt as though she were twisting a knife
in her own chest. "Not the way he's making it out to
be."
"I won't listen to this. He's my father."
"You see, Kathryn my darling?" Wells moved
behind L'reh and placed his gnarled right hand on her
shoulder, "She is aware of where her loyalties lay.
Unlike her mother. She will never betray me..."
"You're right, Marcus." Katie nodded, suddenly
calm. She moved toward him, "I made a mistake. I
gave her up," her eyes found L'reh's, "because I was
frightened and angry. I was too young to know any
better and too terrified to think about those nights
when you RAPED me! Again... and again..." she tore
her eyes from Liriel's and she prayed, as hot tears
began to fall, to a god she hadn't spoken to in more
than half her life. She prayed for redemption. For
what she was about to do. Because she couldn't look
back at the younger woman, though she knew it when
L'reh stepped out of Marcus' hand-hold.
"I warn you, Katie!" Marcus stood his ground
while she advanced, "do not make me harm you! Your
boy-lover is not here to save you now."
But Flynn was beyond hearing. She kept moving,
advancing on Wells with single-minded focus.
With the flick of one bound wrist, a small
blade fell from her uniform sleeve into the palms of
her hands and she held it aloft.
"Katheryn!" Marcus' eyes turned to L'reh, who
had already removed the disruptor from her belt-clip
on instinct. She held it aloft, trained at Flynn,
though her fingers were shaking. "You waste your
life for nothing," Wells spat, "he's already dead!"
"Rumors of my death," came a low and commanding
voice from behind them, "have been greatly
exaggerated."
All eyes turned to the back of the room, and
even Katheryn froze mid-step. The titanium doorway
to the suite stood open, and two Romulan guards lay
unmoving on the floor without.
L'reh shifted her disruptor and fired.
------------------------
Chapter 161
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Live free, or die."
------------------------
Katheryn Flynn fell to the ground like a
ragdoll. Her charred left shoulder bent awkwardly
against a steel grate in the metal floor and she
exhaled a single breath before her wide green eyes
fell shut.
"Drop the weapon, Liriel. Drop it now!" Riker
lunged into the room after Flynn. Flanked on either
side by Lyss and Troi, he arrived at Katheryn's limp
form and turned a hateful stare on the bent and
disfigured form of Marcus Wells.
L'reh hadn't moved from where she stood, arm
still aloft; still grasping her weapon with trembling
fingers.
Deanna fell to her knees. Holding her fingers
gently against the injured woman's pulse, she
breathed a solemn sigh of relief. "She's alive,"
Troi whispered, shaking her head, "but without
Beverly's tricorder, I can't tell for how much
longer."
"You frigid Romulan whore," Darya Lyss spun
around and advanced on Liriel with murderous intent.
"I'm going to kill you...slowly..."
"Stand back!" L'reh commanded, refocusing her
energy--and her weapon--on Lyss. "I warn you,
Lieutenant, stand back or I will end your life right
now."
"My, my, what have we here?" Wells' sardonic
laughter left his lips on a threadbare hiss, "a
little BOY and his playmates?"
Riker clenched an empty fist at his side. A
livid pulse roared between his ears and he'd nearly
taken a step toward Wells--when the vivid sensation
of a warm hand settled gently on his arm from behind.
He froze.
:::Your anger is your weakness.::: Deanna's
voice flowed through his spirit like water. :::His
strength with thrive in it. If you lose yourself in
rage, he'll win...:::
Her silent presence lent Riker just enough
strength to release the fingers he'd clasped. A
moment ago, he was sure that she had touched his arm.
Now that he'd felt her presence in his mind, he
realized that she had never 'physically' touched him
at all. Offering her a momentary backward glance, he
caught her indomitable expression, but she had not
moved a millimeter from her vigil at Katie's side.
Flynn joined his position, and Riker scowled,
"What do you want from her, Wells? Haven't you
caused enough pain for one lifetime?"
"What do I want?" Marcus smiled, shrugging his
gnarled shoulder in as much of a fashion as he was
able. "Why, a family reunion, of course," his cold
eyes narrowed on Riker, "but I don't recall inviting
any of you..."
When Riker took another step forward, Liriel
advanced without warning, "are you ALL such liars?"
she demanded, taking a stance in front of her father.
"Liars?" For the first time since their
entrance into the chamber, Deanna looked up at her.
"Don't think I'm a fool, Counselor, I've seen
every Starfleet game. I know every Starfleet trick
and protocol..."
"Then you should also know this is anything
*but* a game!" Darya Lyss stepped forward. "And you
are nothing but a petulant child whose 'daddy'
deserves to be mauled alive for what he's done."
"Be still!" L'Reh shot back, "You know nothing
of my father! And even less of me!"
"I know enough to want you both to rot in
hell!" Lyss growled.
"Enough!" the plea-—more like a gasp—-had come
from Katheryn Flynn, still prone against the floor.
"You have me, Marcus. Let them go."
Turning sidelong to L'reh, Wells appeared—-
almost—-to frown for an instant. It was only an
instant however, because the words that finally fell
from his lips were unsympathetic, "Afraid I can't do
that, my pet."
"Jesus, why the hell not?" Flynn sounded more
exhausted than afraid. "I'm not going anywhere,
that's obvious. Just let them leave..."
Liriel fixed a pointed gaze on her father but
Marcus flatly ignored her. With his eyes still set
on Flynn, he gave his order. "Kill them, L'Reh," he
commanded, though the sound of his voice was almost
pleasant. "Start with the Betazoids. Then Riker. I
have other plans for your mother..." he turned at
his daughter's apparent immobility and prodded her
with a disdainful gaze. "You heard me, child."
"Marcus!" Riker roared, lunging forward for the
older man, but he was never to make it.
"Yes. She heard you." A strong voice spoke up
from the back of the enclosure, halting them all. It
was Deanna, and she walked purposefully toward Wells.
"Unfortunately," her glance settled on Darya Lyss for
an instant, "she isn't disposed to follow your
commands for the moment."
The look of concentration in Darya's
indissoluble expression was as powerful as the sound
of Troi's voice had become. Liriel was a far more
adept telepath than any of the other soldiers they
had encountered thus far, and the toll it was taking
on Lyss to keep her immobile was more than evident.
"Deanna--" Riker's focus shifted with the
sudden weight of a thousand worlds, and he knew in
that single, indescribable moment, that something was
terribly wrong.
------------------------
Chapter 162
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"What lies behind us and what lies ahead
of us are tiny matters compared to
what lives within us."
------------------------
Katheryn Flynn collapsed again. It might have
been the effort from her final attempt to rise that
sucked the remainder of the strength from her body,
or it might have been the unseen force behind Darya
Lyss' invisible telepathic stranglehold on the room,
but Flynn had fallen to the floor--immobile again--
and Riker looked back at her for a fleeting instant
before he tore his gaze to Deanna Troi.
She was oddly calm. Making her way
deliberately through the vast enclosure, she looked
absurdly tiny as well, but there was a strength about
her such as he was almost certain he had never seen
before.
Deanna's focus was set completely on Wells; her
fathomless Betazoid eyes were fixed on him, and
nothing Riker had said or done within the previous
few seconds seemed to have held any sway on her
actions. She didn't even glance his way.
"What is this?" asked Wells, "some kind of
ploy?" his eyes flicked back and forth between his
immobile daughter and Troi's imminent arrival. There
was a restlessness about his posture; something
almost as bizarre as Deanna's sudden behavior, that
Riker thought was also the first he'd seen in the
Romulan since their party had entered the chamber.
"L'Reh! I ordered you to kill them!" he shouted, but
his restlessness had already transformed into
distress, and Riker was suddenly certain he
understood why.
The Romulan bent forward at the waist; far
enough that Riker could tell his already stooped body
was in a painful grip. But there was nothing and no
one around him. Only the slowly approaching form of
Troi.
"Stop it!" Wells cried, pressing a hand to each
of his temples, "get out of my head you Betazoid
bitch!"
"Marcus Wells, you have been judged." Deanna's
voice was eerily serene, "And you have been found
guilty." With every word she uttered, Wells inched
closer to the ground, "Guilty of viciousness. Rape.
Child brutality. Malevolence. And... murder."
Riker's focus flew to the unmoving form of
Katheryn Flynn and his eyes widened in horror.
Deanna had lost the battle to save her struggling
charge. Katie was dead, and something already far
too fragile inside of Deanna's eternally
compassionate soul had simultaneously broken in two.
The Romulan's arguments emerged as labored
gasps and he fell to his knees.
"You are a monster," Troi continued in the same
unnatural tone. "But you will never harm another
child."
"Deanna--" Riker moved forward instinctively,
despite the fact that there was a part of him; a part
disconnected from his rational, starfleet training,
that could not think of a single -good- reason he
should not allow her to end the life of the creature
in front of them in as painful, agonizing a way as
she was able to deliver. He moved toward her anyway,
and he held out a hand. :::This isn't the way,
Deanna. It's not -your- way...::: he sent
telepathically, when spoken words had no effect.
For a fraction of an instant, Deanna seemed to
falter. She paused mid-step and her chin moved;
barely a centimeter. But Wells continued to writhe
against the floor.
:::Remember what you told me? Anger is your
weakness. Kill him now, Sparks, and he wins. Kill
him like this, and no one sees justice. Even though
he deserves to die, God knows he deserves it... God
knows there's a part of me that wishes you would kill
him. I can't let you do it. Not like this, and
there's no way in hell that I'm going to let him take
a piece of your soul, too:::
Deanna hadn't moved in several eternal seconds,
and Riker took another step in her direction.
"Deanna, you have to listen to me..."
An ear shattering wail from behind them both
settled the matter for everyone. To Riker, it had
sounded just like Katie. But that was impossible,
wasn't it? He had little time to think about it,
because a second later, Lyss cried out.
"I lost her! Get down! Now!"
------------------------
Chapter 163
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream.
For the soul is not dead that slumbers,
and things are not always what they seem."
------------------------
Time seemed to slow.
In the end, it was Darya and Deanna who moved
faster than anyone else; or at least, they seemed to
be. Perhaps because their Betazoid sense of Marcus
and L'Reh's intentions was far keener than Riker's
own, or perhaps because a part of him was still
recovering from his ordeal.
Though his strength had continued to return in
increments and he was far from helpless, he was also
far from the top of his game, and he wasn't too proud
to recognize that fact. Or the fact that what
happened in the next few instants might settle
everyone's lives, once and for all.
There was scarcely a moment to decide in which
direction he would turn. A single precious moment
during which he thought he might have seen Katheryn
Flynn's inert body move--ever so slightly. But the
moment disappeared almost before it had ever existed,
and a series of violent explosions tore at the walls
behind them.
Riker flew toward Troi, but never made it.
Darya Lyss land squarely on top of him--flat on
the floor--as an brilliant arc of energy exploded
from L'reh's disruptor.
But not at them. It missed by several meters,
and Deanna looked up from where she had also fallen,
far closer to the target.
Marcus's body hit the ground with a sickening
thud. His wide, horrified eyes turned up to the
ceiling for a moment, and then settled on the face of
his killer.
"L'Reh..."
The walls at the back of the enclosure
continued to shudder as though some force from
Liriel's disruptor had eradicated their support.
Riker realized that it would only be a matter of time
before everything collapsed.
"--what have you done?" Wells croaked, choking
on his own bile and retching over the cold metal
panel beneath his failing body. "IMPERTINENT CHILD!
You will join your mother as a human WHORE!" A final
hiss of frail breath rattled inside the old Romulan's
chest cavity, but he managed an insubordinate scowl,
before he wilted against the floor.
L'Reh stood motionless over her father's
lifeless body while the structure continued to
vibrate around them.
A wall-fragment fell from high above their
heads and clanked heavily against the metal floor.
Crawling toward Flynn, Deanna draped herself across
the human woman's prone position, confirming what
Riker had already begun to suspect. Somehow, Katie
Flynn had escaped death for a second time. But she
wouldn't be so lucky a third time. Not if they
didn't find a way to get the hell out of this place
before it collapsed.
Rocking back onto his feet, Riker pulled Lyss
off the ground and the two of them reached Deanna in
several strides. She looked up at them, and her
dark eyes settled on his. There was conflict inside
of her fathomless expression, and though her defenses
had snapped taught like a steel-trap after Wells was
killed, Riker could also sense the divergence she
felt in her heart. Gone were the days when either he
or she would ever be able to completely shield
themselves from the other.
Deanna looked down at the floor just then, and
he realized that she had experienced the same
realization. But their discussion would have to wait
until later. If there was a later. There was still
the imminent problem of L'Reh, and the heavy-
disrupter she had now trained directly at Troi's
head.
Riker had already begun to gather Katie's still
body into his arms when L'Reh came up behind them.
With her weapon poised, she regarded first Lyss, then
him, and then Deanna.
"My Father is dead because of you," she said
quietly, seemingly oblivious to the rumbling of the
walls behind them.
It was Lyss who answered her. "Yeah? Well
good riddance," she scowled. "The bastard deserved
it. And since you're the one who pulled the trigger
kid, I'd have thought you knew better by now."
Rather than rounding on Darya, L'Reh's
disruptor pressed firmly against the side of Troi's
forehead. Deanna looked up at the young half-
Romulan, but said nothing.
"Do we all die here, Liriel?" Riker asked her
point-blank, shifting Katie's body against him.
"Because the way I figure it, we have about sixty
seconds before that wall over there comes down."
For a charged instant, L'Reh cocked her weapon
forward, kneading it into Deanna's skull. Troi
lifted her chin and met the other woman's stare dead-
on, but still she was silent, and Riker felt a sudden
column of fear rise inside of him when he realized
that she -felt- nothing as well. Not about the
impending reality of her death, nor about the nature
of their predicament otherwise.
Measuring his options, Riker saw Darya begin to
do the same. He was fairly certain that she was
about to make a play for L'Reh's disruptor, and so
would he have. If the half-Romulan woman hadn't
slowly dropped her hand just then.
With trembling fingertips, she released the
weapon and it clattered to the cold, metal floor.
Lyss snapped it up, holding onto it while L'Reh's
troubled eyes fastened on the immobile figure in
Riker's arms.
There was crash, and all of the rumbling
stopped. On the opposite end of the room, a rigid
titanium bulkhead shattered and a six-foot
rectangular hole blew open in the structure. All
eyes turned.
"Captain?" Riker was the first to speak among
them.
"Number One?" he seemed surprised, and he
shared a look of profound relief with his companion
before they made their way within.
"Will, Deanna," Beverly Crusher sighed, "thank
god, you're all okay." Her glance flickered to the
familiar blue-jacket that Troi was still wearing and
she managed a thin smile.
"Not to sound ungrateful, sir, but how did you-
-?"
Picard released a long breath, "Well, there
were a few unhappy Romulan guards out there, but I
think we managed to convince them that our
incarceration was unjust, wouldn't you agree Doctor?"
he looked to Crusher and she smiled and then shrugged
in accord.
Hurrying toward them, Crusher placed her
fingertips against Katie's neck and looked gravely at
Riker. "We have to get her to a medical facility,
Will. Some place with a bio-scanner and surgical
tools that I can use, or she'll die."
"I know," he followed Crusher's gaze to the
make-shift doorway in the titanium wall behind them.
It was much closer to the exit of the compound than
the door that they'd come in through and it would be
their best chance at escape. Even so, it would be a
hard trek to a transport site, and the Federation was
still looking for them.
And then there was the matter of Liriel Wells.
She hadn't said a word since her weapon had fallen to
the floor, but as sure as he had learned to trust in
his combat instincts, Riker was keeping an eye on her
position.
"Deanna," he turned to Troi, and she met his
expression impassively, but did not answer aloud.
Riker sighed worriedly. "Darya, you and Deanna take
Katie back.."
"She can't." Crusher interrupted. "It's only
been a few short hours since you took the hypo, Will.
You and Darya are still potentially contagious, and I
can't let any of you go back to headquarters until
I'm sure the danger has passed. Besides, someone
needs to go back in there and get that genetic
material. They took Robert Riker's canister from my
lab when we were captured and we haven't been able to
locate it since then."
"Doctor," Picard cut in solemnly, placing a
gentle hand against Beverly's arm. "You and I can
take Lt. Flynn to the transport site. "Commander,"
he turned to Riker, "I hate to ask this of you after
such an ordeal, but Doctor Crusher is quite correct.
The Federation NEEDS that antigen. We cannot let the
source of this contagion simply vanish. There is no
single expense too great."
The Captain's meaning was not lost on Riker and
he nodded brusquely. "Of course, sir," he said,
glancing back at Deanna in spite of himself.
"Take Counselor Troi, Lt. Lyss, and Ms. Wells--
" Picard offered the young woman a speculative
glance, "I have a feeling she may be able to assist
in your search. Recover that container."
"Aye sir."
"We'll file a report with Fleet Command as soon
as we return, and with any luck by then, Doctor
Crusher will know whether the danger of contagion has
passed." He paused as Riker began to turn, then
added, "and Commanders?"
Deanna glanced at Picard as well, but it was
only Riker who answered. "Yes sir?"
"Good luck."
"We're going to need it," grumbled Lyss,
tossing a dispassionate glare at Liriel Wells.
"What was that, Lieutenant?" Picard's eyebrow
rose.
Turning a sardonic grin on Picard, Darya
shrugged, "Oh, nothing at all, sir. I was just
commenting on what FUN we're all going to have
together."
"Lieutenant," Riker warned.
Offering Riker a mock-salute, Lyss glowered
back, rounding on her heel and shoving L'Reh forward
with the same disrupter the younger half-Romulan had
used earlier on Troi. "Follow your orders
lieutenant, don't ask questions lieutenant," she
prodded her captive toward the make-shift door. "But
no one ever asks me whether I think the idea is crazy
or not..."
Crusher was still grinning at Picard's barely
concealed indignation and Riker's exasperation when
Deanna Troi turned away as well, following Lyss
slowly to the exit.
"She's a little... unorthodox, sir..." Riker
qualified, "but very capable."
"I can see that, Commander."
Riker might have made another comment, except
that something uncanny occurred to him. Before
Deanna had left their company, it had looked for all
the world as though her expression registered the
barest whisper... of a smile.
------------------------
Chapter 164
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"Don't take life too seriously just
because you can't come out of it alive."
------------------------
"That sick, son of a bitch--"
"Darya, you shouldn't be touching that,"
Deanna admonished softly. Lifting a gloved hand, she
extracted a data-PADD from Lyss' grasp and placed it
back onto the lab shelf, simultaneously handing the
other woman an unused pair of gloves.
Turning from where he'd been examining a
similar series of broken test-instruments and
scattered medical PADDs, Riker looked back at them.
Despite its contents, searching for Robert Riker's
package didn't exactly require a medical degree.
Still, he was grateful at this moment that Deanna had
one anyway.
She had spoken very little since they'd begun
systematically searching the unfamiliar Romulan
facility. And she was distant emotionally, but she
had been coolly professional otherwise. What
bothered him most of all was that he couldn't sense
her anger, or her unease.
It wasn't that she was hiding it from him,
exactly. She'd simply pulled mechanically inward; a
character flaw that was apparently common whether the
species was Betazoid or Human. Emotional candor,
after all, could only extend so far into a crisis
situation.
Still, from what little Riker was able to
gather, he was almost certain that Deanna was not
fuming. Not at him or Darya; not even at their stoic
(and oddly complacent) 'guest', Liriel Wells. No,
what he felt from his wife was primarily gloom. A
sense of hopelessness she wished she didn't feel.
She'd even managed to smile a couple of times; a
smile to spite her own insubordinate feelings. But
it was a bleak and cheerless smile that made Riker
feel as though he'd been out shivering in the cold.
"Three labs to go," he acknowledged Darya's
latest grimace at what she'd been reading with a
frown of his own. "I know we're all a little uneasy
about this. It's clear now that Marcus was ...
experimenting. To what extent, we may have to wait
to find out. Gather up those PADDs and we'll take
them back to Beverly. See what she and the other
doctors at Fleet Command can make of the data."
"What about her?" Lyss threw a withering look
at Liriel Wells, "I could get the truth out of her.
She's tired. Her block wouldn't be able to hold up
this time, I know that I could--"
Deanna's small hand settled on the edge of
Lyss' arm and when she turned toward it, Troi was
shaking her head. "No more, Darya," she whispered.
To Riker, it sounded almost as though she were
pleading, "Please, no more."
Something unspoken must have passed between the
two women because a moment later Lyss sighed loudly
and dropped her gaze. "All right," she fingered the
disruptor at her side unconsciously. "We'll play it
your way. But it's obvious she's not going to help
us find that damn canister. She's dead weight in
here. I could stun her and we could tie her up and
come back for her later."
The young half-Romulan woman remained eerily
silent, even when Riker stepped up to her, examining
her fragile countenance. Despite everything, she was
remarkably poised. When her shining green eyes
looked up and met his own, she seemed to look
directly through him. Only a silhouette of the woman
he'd once met aboard the Enterprise glimmered through
her expression. And something else. Something almost
familiar... "She comes with us." He glanced back at
Lyss.
For an instant, Lyss looked as though she might
argue. But instead she only shrugged. "Your parade,
cous." Riker's eyebrow rose and she amended, "Your
parade, SIR?"
"Better," he threw her a crooked smile.
"Didn't they ever teach you officer's etiquette in
the Section?"
"Sir, yes they did, sir, you pompous Starfleet
son-of-a-bitch, sir!" Lyss saluted him with mock-
fervor.
Even Riker couldn't help the incredulous grin
that graced his features. "I think that's
insubordination, don't you, Counselor?" He turned
toward Deanna, whom he was almost giddy to see was
almost smiling; a truly genuine smile this time, even
if it was slight. She traded a warm look between him
and Lyss.
The moment was shattered though. When Liriel
Wells quietly intervened. "You'll never find it,"
she said, serenely. "I had our doctors make sure of
that."
All eyes turned toward her, but Darya slipped
in front of them all. "It has a voice," she narrowed
her gaze and a pair of startling green eyes settled
frankly on hers before Liriel spoke again.
"I know where it is, but I won't tell you
anything."
"Like HELL you won't," the blunt head of Lyss'
heavy-disruptor pressed firmly against Liriel's
skull.
"--unless--" the half-Romulan calmly continued,
"you let me see my mother when we get back."
"I beg your pardon?" Darya's jaw fell open.
"You want to see your MOMMY?"
"Darya--" Riker interceded, to no avail.
"You're the god-damned reason she's probably
DYING right now! And you want to SEE her? You think
we'll EVER let you into the same SUB-SPACE BAND as
she is again?"
"Darya--" he tried again.
"I'll see you rot in ALL NINE HELLS before that
ever happens, you frigid Romulan bitch!" her
fingertip expertly tapped the safety on the disruptor
and all four of them heard it hiss in anticipation of
activation.
"Lt. Lyss!" Riker's hand came down hard on her
fire-arm. "Stand down! That's an order!"
------------------------
Chapter 165
"What Dreams May Come"
QDestinyy@aol.com
"I know that every good and excellent thing in
the world stands moment by moment on the razor-edge
of danger and must be fought for..."
------------------------
Darya's hand grasped its deadly cargo with icy
determination and she pointedly ignored Riker's
intense expression. Every ounce of her focus was
centered on Liriel Wells. She seemed to be thinking.
Thinking for what might have been an eternity if
anyone had asked Riker.
But fewer than three actual seconds ticked by
from the moment of his heated order until the instant
that Darya suddenly disarmed, releasing Wells from
the point-blank range of the disruptor barrel.
Uttering a low series of colorful curses in
several languages, only some of which Riker
recognized, Lyss spun on her heel and faced the
opposite direction, recapturing her composure.
Riker sighed and Deanna came up quietly beside
him, regarding Liriel in a way that--for some
unknowable reason--persuaded the other woman to
glance momentarily aside.
"It's frozen." Deanna broke the unnatural
silence, still staring at Wells. "Three separate
canisters, containment units six through eight in
Bio-Lab Four. The second-last door at the end of the
corridor."
Riker didn't bother to ask Deanna what she'd
communicated with Liriel in order to gather that
information. She obviously trusted it to be true, so
he turned to Wells instead. "I'll see what I can do
about your... mother," he almost stumbled on the
word.
The thought of Katie as a mother was strange
enough. As the mother of the woman who had tried to
kill them all; the half-Romulan child of Marcus
Wells--that was a difficult pill to swallow. But the
facts were laid bare, and truth had never seemed to
give a damn about the comfort level of its keepers.
"Thank you," the first two civil words that any
of them had heard from Liriel Wells left her lips as
a whisper. She said nothing further, not even when
Darya took hold of her elbow and 'escorted' her out
of lab-three into the corridor ahead of them.
-o-
Bio-Lab Four was locked. In a crude and
somewhat hurried manner, the mechanism that kept the
door in place had been jammed.
Riker only had to glance at Deanna before she
pulled out the tri-corder Beverly had lent them. The
doctor's vivid blue lab-coat shifted on Troi's slim
body while she fished in one of the pockets for
another instrument, then handed it to Riker.
"Thanks," he grinned at her efficiency and she
returned the gesture with a wan smile.
Setting to task, it took only a few seconds for
the Federation computer to decode its target. The
door cracked open automatically and Deanna remained
with it, scanning the newly exposed interior before
they prepared to enter. Leaving her side for a brief
moment, Riker backtracked several meters through the
corridor and found Lyss.
"Darya," He stopped her before she and Liriel
could join them. "I want you to take our 'guest' back
to the exit and wait for us there. Deanna and I will
get the canisters and meet you on the way out."
"What?" Lyss shook her head, "Is there
something--"
"Look." He sighed. "This is going to seem
like an unorthodox thing to say in the middle of a
mission, but,"
"Hey, unorthodox is my middle name, remember?"
She threw him a pointed look.
"I really need a moment with Deanna," he
finished, glancing back at Troi before he fixed a
pair of solemn blue eyes on Lyss. "Privately."
Lyss' dark eyes narrowed, but she also glanced
at Troi and then back at him again.
"If you'll be all right with Liriel," he went
on, "we can meet you in fifteen minutes at the
Captain's exit."
"If?" Darya scoffed, smirking also at Riker's
naming convention for the gaping hole Picard and
Crusher had carved into the wall. "Oh hell, Riker,
just don't get yourself killed unless I'm there to
see it, ok?"
"Deal." He offered her a grateful smile. "If
we're not back in a half hour, get Liriel out of here
and back to the Federation. Make sure they pick up
Marcus' body as well. If it was up to me, I'd have
that bastard dissected one nanometer at a time, just
like the disease he represented." Riker's eyes fell
on Liriel for an instant, but she had either not
heard his comment or had chosen to ignore it.
"You wanna know what I'd do if it was up to
me?" Darya asked, lifting a petite eyebrow.
"Somehow, I don't think my stomach could take
it."
"Spoil sport. You're a little squeamish for a
human. You know that, cous?"
"You're a little psychotic for a Betazoid. You
know THAT, *cous*?"
"Well what can I say, I was raised by wolves--"
she clamped a small hand over her mouth, "--I meant,
Starfleet."
Riker shook his head and effectively ended the
conversation, turning quietly back toward Deanna. But
Darya wasn't finished with him yet. Even as she
began to backtrack with Liriel Wells through the
corridor, she sent a single thought directly into his
mind.
:::Never let it be said that I stood in the way
of true love!:::
If he thought it would have translated, Riker
might have sent back a particularly vivid hand-
gesture. As it was, he could only shake his head and
ignore the comment.
For all of her 'unorthodox' tendencies, as far
as family was concerned, Darya Lyss was
unquestionably a member of the Riker gene pool. And
she was turning out to be a pretty damn decent
cousin, too.
---to be continued---