"Set course for Starbase 489," Riker commanded, leaning over Data. "Warp 7."
"Yes, sir," Data responded blandly, his yellow eyes focused on the helm. "Warp 7."
Riker turned back to see Troi clutching her head and wincing. She saw him notice and quickly dropped her hands to her lap, but couldn't restrain another cringe of pain.
The sympathy on his face was barely concealed behind a mask of duty (the "Starfleet poker face," some called it). "Counselor, why don't you head down to sickbay and help Dr. Crusher with the wounded."
"I'm really all right," the counselor replied defensively.
"That wasn't a suggestion," was Riker's answer, letting his voice develop a necessary edge. Troi was definitely not all right, but it could take some work to get her off the bridge when she thought she was needed.
Troi gave a noise which, if she weren't a Starfleet officer, would have been a huff, and left the bridge.
Riker tapped his communicator. "Riker to sickbay."
Dr. Crusher's smooth voice replied. "This is sickbay."
"Counselor Troi is coming your way, under orders to help with the wounded. Do me a favor and look her over when she gets there. Don't let her refuse."
"I'll do my best," the doctor answered, and her voice was somewhere between a smile and a sigh.
"Good. Riker out."
The moment he disconnected from his communicator, he tapped on it again. "Riker to engineering."
"Engineering here, Commander," came Geordi's slightly staticky voice.
Riker's brow furrowed. "Come in, Geordi."
"I'm here, Commander. The explosion hit the ship near here; there's still some leftover radiation which is tending to interfere with our communications. It'll dissipate soon," Geordi reassured.
"Right," the first officer said dubiously. "Is there any news on what exactly caused that explosion?"
Down in engineering, Geordi was moving easily through his element, checking scanners, sensors, and pressing buttons. "It's weird, Commander," he answered out of nowhere after a pause, suddenly remembering that Riker was waiting for a reply. "It came from the middle of space. There was nothing there - not a planet, not a star, no object at all, just empty space. It wasn't even strictly what we in the engineering field would call an explosion. It was... I guess you'd call it an imbalance in gravity, caused by some kind of distortion in space-time. I need more time to study it."
"All right," Riker responded. "You have until we reach a starbase; then we have to give a report to Starfleet. Report any new findings directly to the Captain."
"Understood, sir," was Geordi's reply. "Engineering out."
Riker rung the door chime on Picard's ready room.
Captain Picard looked up from reading. "Come in," he called, pressing a button and sliding open the door. Riker entered.
"Any news on the cause of the explosion?" the Captain asked, putting away his book and not meeting his first officer's eyes.
"Apparently some sort of gravitational disturbance. I've ordered Geordi to report any further discoveries directly to you."
Picard nodded. "How is Dr. Crusher doing with the wounded?"
"Almost everyone is expected to make a full recovery." The Commander paused, hating his duty to report eveything. "There have been a few more fatalities since the explosion. The casualty count is now 6, all nonessential personnel."
Picard closed his eyes. "Thank you, Commander." It was clearly a dismissal.
Riker nodded. "Yes, sir." You're welcome really didn't seem right, considering what he was being thanked for.
Picard turned back to his book for solace, but just for a moment, he could hear the screams of his crew on the Stargazer, complete with sudden headache. Dr. Crusher had assured him it was just an aftereffect - like a mental afterimage of trauma, nothing that would impair his function - yet it sometimes became close to unbearable in moments of stress. Like this one.
It was about to get a lot more stressful.