There's No Other Way When It Comes To The Truth
WARNING- this is story contains character death, and hasn't been through a beta. There is a happy ending unlike my other reply to the challenge tag, [well actually, that depends on what you consider a 'happy ending', but it does end on a positive note].
This story is set in and Alternate Universe where some things from season seven onward just didn't happen. You'll figure out what when you read it. I don't want parts of the story spoiled by knowledge of what is to be changed. Enjoy!
*~*~*
Dr. Beverly Crusher and Lt. Commander Data exited the secured safety bunker. The senior staff, and a select number of medical staff, who had been waiting outside the complex for nearly an hour, stood when they saw them exit.
The medical staff stepped forward expecting to receive their orders on what they needed to do inside. They were ready to tackle the problem in the methodical and professional manner Dr Crusher had trained them in. However, they were all surprised when the doctor dismissed them without any further instructions. They exchanged concerned expressions, but all knew better than to question their boss' orders. They all promptly left.
Nurse Alyssa Ogawa cast a concerned glances back at her boss as she departed. Ogawa had never seen her boss, and friend, with such an ashen complexion, and the look in her eye was what shocked her the most. It was blank. She'd never seen that in the doctor. There was no spark in them, no passion to cure, no determination to solve a problem, only a haunted and horrified expression. Even Data seemed disturbed by whatever had occurred in the bunker.
"Doctor," Captain Jean-Luc Picard started, approaching his senior officers, "Is it as bad as we feared?"
"Worse," was Beverly's chocked reply. "So much worse," she replied not even pausing to address her commanding officer.
She just walked right past, both him, and all the concerned faces of the senior staff. She only paused to nod at Data before she left at a brisk pace, not making eye contact with anyone.
"Doctor! Doctor! Beverly!" Jean-Luc called after her.
She either didn't hear him, or chose to ignore his concerned call. Jean-Luc wasn't sure which it was, and didn't like the idea of either.
"Data," Commander William Riker started, bring the focus to the android. "What is going on?"
Data did not reply. Instead, he punched in a rapid series of commands into the access panel he and Dr Crusher had just walked through. The computer beeped to indicate the acceptance of his command.
*Ryan Safety Bunker is now in medical lockdown,* the calm voice of the computer called.
"Data, why the hell did you do that?" Will asked.
"I was simply following Dr Crusher's orders," Data said.
"Explain, Mr Data," Jean-Luc ordered, a measure of curtness entering his voice.
"I am not authorised to give such a report, sir. Dr Crusher has ordered a lockout that would not allow me to discuss the situation with any of the current senior staff, baring Dr Crusher herself."
"Why?" Will jumped in.
"Because of the nature of the information, sir."
"That doesn't make sense, Data," Geordi La Forge added. "How can we help with the investigation, if we don't know the exact nature of the information we're receiving?"
"You are not to assist with this part of the investigation. I will be assisting Dr Crusher with what she needs to do, and when we are finished with the report, only then will the information be available. However, until we have completed our report on what has occurred in the bunker, there will not be much you can assist with."
"Data, that is not a good enough explanation," Jean-Luc stated tersely.
Data inclined his head, "However, that is the only explanation I can provide you with."
Jean-Luc then turned and followed the path Beverly had just taken moments ago.
"Data is there anything you can tell us about what happened in there?" Deanna Troi asked, confused at the idiom Data was expressing.
"The only word I can think of the describe it is…unsettling."
*~*~*
Beverly rushed pass the group of people that had been waiting for her outside the building. She dismissed her waiting staff and chocked out barely a handful of words to the senior staff. She managed to give Data a meaningful glance, before she had to rush off needing to get away, immediately.
Quickly rounding another building, she leaned against it and emptied the little content of her stomach into the garden bed there. She continued to give large, gut wrenching, heaves, even after she'd brought up all her stomach had contained.
Eventually, her stomach calmed. She remained leaning onto the wall, her eyes stung and were watery, but she dared not close them out of fear. Fear of seeing before her eyes the image that literally made her sick to her stomach. The mere thought brought the smell back to her. The knowledge of the atrocity committed made her gut twisted into a tight knot, and she succumbed to another wave of nausea, this time resulting in dry heaves.
Images she knew were only created in her mind flashed before her eyes. Faces of people in the bunker ran across her mind's eye. Friends, acquaintances, strangers, children, all the faces and medical files she'd memorized to be able to treat. The blood, so much blood, everywhere, but at the same time not enough. The pain those lives had ended with. The knowledge that came from her medical training to tell her how this kind of massacre happened. Blow by blow. Death by death. 204 lives, and barely enough tissue to do an autopsy. This thought cost her the precarious balance she had against the wall and she started to fall.
Suddenly, she was caught by a pair of strong arms. She didn't have to turn to know who had caught her. Beverly recognised their strength and comfort before his soothing words even penetrated her mind. One arm held her firmly around the waist and other was rubbing soothing circles on her back.
Calming down again, she leaned into his embrace and let the sent of him bombard her senses to remove the lingering shadows that were haunting her. Her nightmares where going to return with the darkness and be filled with these images for years to come. This she knew from experience. The images of her imagination and all the silent screams. But his presence helped quieten the noise, fight off the darkness.
Feeling the strength return to her limbs she stood and looked at the man who'd lent her the strength she'd needed.
"Better?" Jean-Luc asked.
She just nodded.
"Now, what exactly happened in here?" he questioned, his voice filled with concern.
Beverly paused for a moment, thinking about what she was willing to share with him.
"All I can say is, if we manage to catch the people responsible for this, the lowest most torturous level of hell would be too pleasant a punishment for them."
He gazed at her a stunned expression on his face. She knew her tone sounded harsh, but faced with these… these horrendous acts, she couldn't be harsh enough.
"Surely it's not that bad."
"I'm declaring the Ryan Safety Bunker to be a level four medical lockout."
"You can't do that!"
"I can and I have."
"Beverly, the only person who'll have access to the bunker will be you."
"I know, but I will have Data assist me. I'm not exposing any of my staff to what's happened in there."
"The only people you'll be able to discuss the detail with are Admirals ."
"I know! I'm not stupid, Jean-Luc, I know what a level four lockout entails!"
"But I don't think you fully grasp what that means for our investigation," he countered.
"It complicates things, I know, but Data supports my decision about this completely. I will spare as many people as I can the knowledge of what occurred in that bunker."
Her anger was returning the strength her weakened limbs. She stood before him, arms crossed in both a protective and forceful stance. She wasn't going to be swayed about this.
"I hope you know what you're doing," he muttered, conceding defeat at this time.
"And I hope you never understand," she countered walking past him, returning to the bunker and the arduous work ahead of her.
*~*~*
Captain Picard looked in on Dr Crusher as she worked in her office. He could see the tension she carried in her shoulders, and he didn't need to see her face to know she hadn't had a proper nights sleep since they arrived at the Ryan colony, nearly a week ago.
Beverly turned and was startled by the sudden appearance of Jean-Luc.
"Captain," she exclaimed. "What can I do for you?"
When he saw her face he realised this was about more than what had happened in the bunker. Something else had happened. She most likely hadn't slept at all in the last week, maybe more. She was haggard, both emotional and physically. With an extra problem that she refused to talk to anyone about added to her stress levels, she was close to a breakdown. If he knew Beverly Crusher, which he liked to think he did after being her friend for twenty years, she was working herself into exhaustion. Trying to fight being able to think. Think too much about whatever she was keeping from him.
Admittedly, they hadn't been as close since Kespryt, and then things were strained again after her grandmother's death. But he was determined to not let her down now. She needed his friendship now. He would finally do something worthy of the constant friendship she'd given him over the last five years.
"Doctor," he started softly. "You're report was completed and submitted four hours ago. Get some rest, you've earned it."
Ignoring his words she continued to focus on the pad in her hand, her head was lowered, eyes looking at the pad, but not see it. Jean-Luc walked up and placed a hand atop of hers, forcing her to lower it.
"Beverly," he whispered, his voice horse. "Please, get some rest."
Slowly Beverly raised her head. When their eyes met he saw the full depth of her pain and anguish.
"I can't," she whispered back, just as horse, tears welling in her eyes. "I… I keep seeing…Jean-Luc, I've never seen anything so…how can I sleep knowing…"
Jean-Luc forced the pad out of her hands and pulled her into his strong embrace as he saw her resolve start to crumble. He would be her pillar of support, the same way he had a week ago. The same way she had done for him countless times.
He held her tighter as he felt the first sob escaped her. With one hand he, almost thoughtlessly, activated the privacy lock to her office.
Jean-Luc just continued to hold her as she released all the emotions she'd held in so tightly over the last week. He rubbed her back and whispering words of comfort as she went through the rollercoaster of emotions.
"So much life… waisted. … Nothing I could do for them… for him… It's not fair… too young…oh gods why?... Why him? … I failed him… I failed them all…"
Jean-Luc could only offer her words of support, unable to make sense of all she said, of her jumbled thoughts. He continued to hold her till the tears subsided and she regained her control over her emotions.
"Better?"
"A little bit," she conceded, with a nod.
"Good. Now, what you need is a hearty meal, a relaxing evening and a good nights sleep," he mused out loud.
"Is that your official recommendation?" she asked, a smile on her lips but not in her eyes.
"Yes. Advice I have been given many times myself. I swear by it. You know, a friend of mine sent me a holo-vid and I've been meaning to watch it for some time now. Come by my quarters tonight and we'll have dinner together then watch it."
Beverly tried to dissuade him, "I'm not going to be much company, Jean-Luc. I'm sure you'll enjoy the movie a lot more without me there."
"Rubbish," he scoffed. Having made up his mind about it, Jean-Luc headed towards her office door. Opening it he added, in his best command voice, "I expect you to be in my quarters by 1900."
The sound of muffled snickering from the door way causing Jean-Luc to turn. He caught sight of several medical staff quickly rushing away from the doorway. Embarrassment flooded through Jean-Luc as he realised they'd heard, and misinterpreted, the last thing he'd said.
"Aye aye, sir," came Beverly's reply.
Turning back to look at the doctor, Jean-Luc saw the glint of amusement shining in her eyes. Swallowing his mortification he nodded and then exited Sickbay. If he had to tolerate some awkward moments with the medical staff to help his best friend, he'd endure it. It was a small price for him to pay to get her back to her usual self. A price he'd gladly pay.
*~*~*
"Captain," Data called from the ops. post. "An unknown object has appeared in Ryan's orbit, and is closing in on our position."
"It's not the Athena coming to relieve us of the investigation is it?" Will asked.
"No, sir. It is not a starship," Data replied.
"On screen," Jean-Luc ordered.
A small brown object appeared on the screen, and the bridge crew tried to study it from the image.
Data consulted his station for a moment before he continued, "It appears to be a one man probe. It reads as one and a half metres in diameter. There are no identification armaments."
Jean-Luc exchanged a curious glance with Will to his right.
The tactical station began beeping and Worf quickly reacted.
"Captain, we…" a surprised expression crossed the Klingon's face, "you are being hailed. By name."
Jean-Luc was on his feat in a flash and in the middle of the bridge, Will half a step behind him.
"Open a channel," he ordered.
Worf's hands flew across his panel and nodded that the channel was open.
"This is Captain Jean-Luc Pic-"
"Captain, I am reading a power serge," Worf interrupted.
"Shields up!" Will called without a moments hesitation.
A strange beam appeared to be coming from the probe and was directed at the Enterprise but whatever it was, it was unable to penetrate the ship's shields. A glance at Data was all the prompting the android needed to explain.
"The beam appears to contain holographic imaging information."
"It's trying to project something," Will's comment was somewhere between a statement and a question.
"Isolate the bandwidth. Let the signal through the shields," Jean-Luc ordered, after a pause.
Data's promptly did as commanded. The image, initially scratchy, appeared before them on the bridge. It soon cleared up and the image of a Ferengi stood before them.
"Bok!" Jean-Luc called recognition seizing him.
"I trust you remember me, Picard," the image of the disgraced Ferengi called. "Because I haven't forgotten you, or how you murdered my son," he practically spat out. "For fifteen years now, I've thought about how to avenge his death. But nothing I could do to you could equal what you've done to me." A feral smile entered his face before he continued, "Until now. Killing is making a choice, Picard. Choose between one life or another. Which would you chose, Picard; your blood, and the barer of your family name; or he whom you love like a son, and named your heir? Make no mistake, Picard, one of them will die, and the other will be spared. Which one will you sacrifice for the other?"
The image of Bok smiled, unknowingly, where the horrified Captain stood.
"You have nothing, nothing to threaten me with. Nothing to do with all your strength and power. But don't worry, Picard. I'm going to be in touch."
The image then disappeared.
The bridge remained silent as the crew absorbed the crazed Ferengi's words.
"Mr Worf, put a tractor on that probe. Determine if it's safe to beam aboard. I want to know where it came from. Number One, contact the Ferengi government find out all you can on Bok. He was wearing a DaiMon's uniform. If he has been reinstated his rank, I want to know why. Mr Data, I want a secure line to Earth," he jerked his top down, and headed to his Ready Room.
"Where do you want me to connect you to, sir?"
"Get me a secure line to Labarre and the Academy, Mr Data."
"Yes, sir."
*~*~*
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the great starship Captain. How are you little brother? Saving the galaxy today? Or is the universe?" Robert Picard asked with his usual gruffness.
"Awaiting new orders, actually," Jean-Luc replied, accustomed to his brother's behaviour. "I'm really calling to …check how René's doing."
"René?" Robert asked surprised. "He's fine. In his room studying at the moment."
Jean-Luc let out a relieved sigh.
"He told Marie he has a test on Monday, so he's been studying all day."
Jean-Luc's fear returned with a vengeance.
"Have you seen him?"
"Not since breakfast this morning- nearly eight hours ago."
"I want to speak with him," Jean-Luc practically ordered his brother. "Now."
"It's not unusual for him to study like this, Jean-Luc. Leave him be."
"Humour me, Robert. Go get Rene."
Jean-Luc could see his brother wanting to brush off the command he practically barked at him. However, he also must have heard the urgency and desperation in his voice, because he stood to do as he asked.
"Keep you Starfleet issued shirt on," was the crusty reply he received.
It was difficult for said Starfleet Captain not to fidget while he waited for the arrival of his nephew to the screen. It was taking much too long for his liking.
Suddenly Robert's face was back on the screen, a few shades paler.
"Who's 'Bok'?"
"What?"
Robert held up a pad that had a message on it that read:
His life is now in your hands, Picard.
Bok
"Merde," Jean-Luc breathed.
"Who is it?"
"He's a crazed Ferengi, who has kidnapped René to extract revenge on me, and place me in a no win situation."
"Which means?"
"I have to chose between René's and another young man's life. He intends to kill one of them."
"Jea-"
"I'll inform you when I have more details, Robert," Jean-Luc said cutting him off and ending the communication before Robert could respond to what Jean-Luc had told him.
Jean-Luc rested his head in is hands. He had seen the look of fear and pain enter his brother's eyes as he explain the danger his son was in. What little colour there had been in Robert's face had drained away at Jean-Luc's words.
He'd rattled his brother in a way he never thought he could. The absolute horror that had enter his eyes as Robert realised his son could lose his life, so far from home, and without him getting to say goodbye or tell him how much he really cared for him. All for revenge.
The knowledge horrified him. Jean-Luc had never seen his brother rattled, but this had gotten to him. Gotten through all those Picard defences, and hit the heart. Jean-Luc had frightened his brother. Jean-Luc had done many hard things in his life, but he couldn't face his brother like this. He couldn't face the possibility of causing his nephew's death.
'Will I bringing Robert home the body of his son, and both our hopes for the Picard name? Or will I be able to spare my brother that pain? If so, at what cost?'
Jean-Luc had to fight the stinging he felt behind his eyes. The guilt, of the decision he hadn't even made yet, weighed heavily on his conscious. It was like a tightness in his chest, and experience told him, it wouldn't be leaving for some time.
*Sir, Admiral Brand is standing by for you,* came the voice of Mr Data.
"Thank you, Mr Data."
The Starfleet logo on the monitor was replaced with the image of Admiral Brand.
"Captain," she smiled. "To what do I owe this unexpected call?"
"I fear, this is not a social call," he grimaced. He cut the pleasantries and got to the point, "I'm inquiring after Cadet Wesley Crusher."
"Crusher? How did you know?" the woman's surprise clearly showed on her face.
"Know what, Admiral?"
"Cadet Crusher has been abducted, Captain. Earlier today, Crusher was corresponding with another cadet who is in the middle of research on Neptune. He reported that Crusher was beamed out before his eyes during their conversation. It wasn't a standard transporter beam, but something to the same effect, because Cadet Crusher was gone. The cadet alerted the Academy of what had happened, and we've been investigating into it."
Brand leaned forward and met Jean-Luc's eyes.
"Frankly, I'd wanted to wait till I had something else to tell you. Preferably, some good news. However as it stands, all I can tell you is that we have people analysing the information that was left behind in his dorm."
Someone handed something to the Admiral and she paused for a moment to read the content.
"Captain, what do you know of the disgraced Ferengi named Bok?"
Jean-Luc struggled to not show all the turbulent emotions he was experiencing. He must have been successful because the Admiral didn't react to his pause as he steeled himself.
"I had a run in with him six years, he was handed over to the Ferengi government, and I was under the impression he was to be imprisoned."
"He was. According to our reports from the Ferengi, Bok was confined to Rog Prison, but managed to buy his way out two years ago. It would appear that he has taken Cadet Crusher. I've just received a report that our people have deciphered the message he left when Crusher was taken. It was in a Ferengi code known as B'zal, it reads;
"My revenge is at hands, Picard.
Bok
"Care to explain, Captain?" Brand asked, the command in her tone evident to any well trained officer.
"Admiral, I'm not sure if you are aware of Bok's desire for vengeance against me. Nearly fifteen years ago his son was killed in a confrontation between the Stargazer and a, then unknown, Ferengi vessel. It was the battle that rendered the Stargazer unusable, and the Ferengi refereed to it as 'The Battle of Maxia'. Bok has held me personally responsible for his son's death in the confrontation.
"He has kidnapped both Mr Crusher and my nephew and intends to kill one of them. Which one, he has left up to me. Admiral, I am to choose between the life of my nephew, or the life of Wesley Crusher."
"You believe he intends to carry through with his threat then?"
"Bok tried to kill me six years ago, Admiral, I don't doubt that he will try and make good on his threat."
Brand moved back, away from the screen and regarded Jean-Luc.
"I don't envy you this time ahead, Picard. I'll have the people investigating things here send you all the information we have. Good luck, Captain. I hope you manage to bring them both home safely."
"Thank you Admiral, so do I."
The transmission was broken and Jean-Luc was left in the emptiness of his ready room. He still had to explain this to Beverly. He won't be able to feint work, like he did with Robert, either. This wasn't going to be easy.
Swivelling in his chair, Jean-Luc sought comfort from the celestial bodies outside his window. He often turned to them for guidance and in times of need. They normally provided him with comfort and set his turbulent soul at ease. Gave him a voice of calm. But not today. Today they seemed so distant. Cold. Silent. Silent as stars.
*~*~*
Beverly was struggling to keep her composure as Jean-Luc explained what was happening.
'I need to tell him now,' she thought. 'I need to explain it all to him. He has a right to know.'
Then a voice in her mind swiftly countered, 'But how can you drop this kind of bombshell on him? At a time like this? He has enough to deal with, he doesn't need all the emotional baggage that will come with that revelation.'
'Before he can make a decision he needs- no he deserves- to know all the facts. You owe it to him to tell him what you've been hiding from him.'
'What about how it will effect his judgement? Are you so willing to throw away life? And not to mention the promise you'll be breaking. Geordi and Data are working on a way to trace the probe. They will work out how to get them both out safely, and away from harm. He probably won't even need to know the truth.'
'A lie of omission is still a lie. All this time you've been wanting to tell him, now you have to. For the love of your son, just do it Beverly.'
Breaking the silence she'd let them slip into, "Jean-Luc," she started. "There something I have to tell-"
Her words were cut off by a call over the comm. system.
*LaForge to Captain Picard.*
Jean-Luc cast an apologetic glance at her.
"Picard here," he called.
*Captain, Data and I think we have found a way to trace the probe back to it's source.*
"I'll be there in a moment, Commander. Picard out."
A wave of relief flooded through Beverly. She didn't have to tell him. The secret would be safe. All will be fine.
*~*~*
As Geordi and Data explained to him about how they were close to figuring out where the probe originated, Jean-Luc couldn't help but be grateful he had such dedicated men working with him.
"We would need to identify one of them specifically to postulate a flight path," Data finished.
Basically, they needed more time.
"Understood," Jean-Luc sighed.
He would have to try and be patient.
The console in front of Data suddenly started beeping.
"Sir, we are receiving an uplink from Starfleet Head Quarters. They have Bok's last known location; the Dorias Cluster," Data said reading off his monitor.
"The Dorias Cluster? But that cluster consists of more than 20 star systems," Picard cried, outraged.
"Believe it or not, Captain, that might be just the piece of information we needed," Geordi reassured Jean-Luc, leaning in closer to the monitor. Adding his own calculations to Data's.
"Tracing back the flight path now, sir." Data commented, his fingers busy typing away. "The probe was launched at the Xendi Kabu system."
Jean-Luc turned to face the front of the bridge.
"Set a course for the Xendi Kabu system, maximum warp. Engage."
Pivoting on the spot, Jean-Luc headed off the bridge in search of the solitude of his quarters.
*~*~*
Beverly had been sitting in the dark and privacy of her quarters for most of the night. She was wallowing, she knew it. But she couldn't share her problems with anyone onboard. She couldn't share all of them with anyone actually.
Between promises and orders, these were her burdens to bare alone.
The only thing that stopped her from completely breaking down was repeating to herself that Wesley would come out of this fine. That both of the boys Bok held would remain alive at the end of it.
There was a chime at her door.
Calling up the lights, Beverly bade them entrance to her rooms.
It was Deanna.
"Deanna, what can I do for you?" she called, getting up inviting the brunette further inside.
"I came to see if you felt like talking," Deanna offered, taking Beverly up on the offered seat.
"About?"
"About the decision the Captain faces," the Betazoid kept her voice even.
"Shouldn't you be discussing that with him, then?" Beverly tried to deflect. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"No, I'm fine. Beverly, the Captain has Wesley's life in his hands, now. Your son's fate is up to him," Deanna lightly pushed.
"This is not the first time that's happened, Deanna. I trust Jean-Luc to make the right decision."
"Which would be what? To have Wesley live, and his nephew, René, die? Or have René live, and Wesley die?"
Beverly rested her head in her palms, as her mind screamed her answer, but she was too afraid to say.
"I have faith in this crew's ability to work out a way to resolve this, with minimal, to no loss of life. Whether it's René's or Wesley's."
"Have you spoken with the Captain, since he explained what was happening to you?"
"There's been no need. If Jean-Luc wants to talk to me, he knows where to find me. It will be best for him if I'm just here for him when he needs to talk. I don't have anything I need to talk to him about."
Her mind screamed at her, 'LIAR!'
Beverly knew that Deanna sensed her emotional reaction to her own words, and, thankfully, didn't comment on it.
Deanna stood, obviously realising she wasn't going to get Beverly to talk at the moment.
"Well, I'm here, if you need anyone to talk to, please don't forget that. And Beverly, ask yourself this; is not talk to the Captain what's best for him, or what's best for you?"
Having said her piece Deanna left.
Beverly called for the lights to be dimmed again, hung her head and cried.
*~*~*
The senior staff were called for a meeting early the following morning. It was obvious not many had gotten much sleep the night before. Each were filled with their own concern for the young men involved. But none as much as Jean-Luc Picard and Beverly Crusher.
And no one was more aware of these emotions than Deanna Troi.
Deanna tried to stay focused on what was being discussed at the meeting, but as Geordi and Data talked about information they received from HQ about subspace transporters, and trace signatures she couldn't stay focused. The emotional wellbeing of the crew weighted more heavily on her mind, and bombarded her senses.
She was most keenly aware of Will Riker's concern over Wesley, having stayed up half the night talking with him about it. Will thought of Wesley as something between a little brother, and that of a nephew. He kept focusing on the last time they spoke, the last time he'd seen the young man in person.
Geordi was needing to focus on the work he had at hand, or else his mind would dwell on how he may lose another loved one in less than year. Another loved one he didn't make enough effort to see more than he did. His mind would go over all the opportunities he turned down to get away and visit Wesley.
Data seemed aware of the tension caused by Wesley's involvement. He had even shared with Deanna the fact that he noticed his own positronic pathways seemed to place a higher priority on finding a solution to these problems. That he desired to avoid the absence it would create, much like Tasha Yar's had six years ago, even more keenly, because more circuitry and subroutines had been dedicated to Wesley.
Worf was channelling all his energy on staying focused, least his anger at Bok for using such a dishonourable method to extract his revenge come to light. Revenge he could understand, but the sacrifice of an innocent life for that revenge, that was cowardly.
Deanna knew herself she needed to stay focused or else her own grief would cloud her judgement. It is essential that she be able to provide this crew with the emotional support they required at a time like this. Her own emotions could wait.
Especially for the Captain and the Doctor.
The Captain was almost drowning in his own guilt before he has even made the choice. These two young men whom he cared for very deeply, were put in harms way because of him. He couldn't stand the thought of bringing home to his brother the body of his dead son, while their relationship was still smoothing out. Yet how could he entertain the thought of choosing to kill Wesley? A young man he regarded so much like a son. He couldn't imagine bringing another dead body back to Beverly.
Beverly's emotions were just as all over the place. She was concerned over Wesley, but also fearful for the safety of René. She felt a burning guilt about something she wasn't telling anyone, but desperately wanted to. The secret was eating her alive, but she wouldn't admit it. And there were still shadows that haunted her mind from their last mission, and the bunker on Ryan.
Suddenly the meeting was interrupted by a call from the bridge.
*Captain, we have arrived at the Xendi Kabu system.*
"Very well. We will be on the bridge shortly," he called over the comm.
Addressing the staff he continued, "I think this meeting is over. Dismissed."
All the staff stood and headed off. Most headed for the bridge, except for Beverly and Geordi, who were headed back to their departments.
*~*~*
"Is there anything here?" Jean-Luc asked to the room.
"No, sir."
Worf's station started beeping.
"Captain, another probe has materialised 500 kilometres to starboard."
"Mr Data," Jean-Luc looked expectantly at his second officer.
"The subspace signature left by the transporter beam Bok used to send the probe is decaying more rapidly than predicted. It may not be possible to trace it."
Jean-Luc cursed under his breath.
"Sir, the probe is sending a transmission," Worf informed him.
"On screen," he called.
Bok's face filled the screen.
"This is a very special day, Picard. 15 years ago, you took my son away from me. Today, I will take the boy you love away from you. It will be our anniversary."
He moved back and the bridge could see a bound but unharmed René looking up at them frightened, and, an also tied up, Wesley next to him, covered in scratches and burses. On either side of them there stood a pair of burly Chalnas, each holding a disruptor to the boys' head.
"I wanted your friends to see them one last time."
The transmission ended, and Captain Picard was enveloped in a yellow beam.
"Captain!" Will cried lunging at where Jean-Luc stood.
By the time he reached him he was gone.
"Data," Will looked to him expectantly.
"I am tracing the transporter used to take the Captain away. I have it. The ship is holding position 300 billion kilometres from here."
"Plot a cause. Maximum warp," Will ordered.
"Commander, even at warp nine we would not reach there location for another twenty minutes."
Will paced for a while before he faced the second officer.
"Data, would you be able to modify the transporters to use the subspace method Bok did, and get a lock on the Captain, Wesley and René?"
"It may be possible, sir, but not advisable."
"What about to communicate? To get word to the Captain and let him know how far off we are."
"It may be possible, but not reliable."
"I'll take that as yes. Get down to engineering and see what you and Geordi can manage."
*~*~*
Wesley looked up as he heard Bok exclaim
"Captain," he whispered seeing his mentor beam in.
"Uncle," René whispered from next to him.
"What is the meaning of this?" Jean-Luc cried as he took in the room he was beamed into.
Wesley regarded the room again, much the same way Jean-Luc was. Bok was close to Jean-Luc disruptor aimed at him. The Chalna named Fetqq was to Wesley's left a disruptor aim at his head, René to his right hands tied in front of him and another Chalna was beside him a disruptor aim at René.
"It wouldn't be enough to have you choose, Picard. You have to be here to witness the result of your choice," Bok explained grinning.
Jean-Luc looked at them with a frightened expression in his eyes. Wesley saw the same expression enter René's face at Bok's words.
"Hear that Fet," Wesley called, causing the Chalna beside him to grip his weapon tighter. "You might get your chance to kill me, yet."
Fetqq slapped Wesley across the back of his head causing him to fall forward. With his hands tied behind his back he couldn't ease the fall and broke his nose on the grated floor. Pain shot through his face and his eyes watered.
"Wesley!" he heard the voice of the Captain call.
Wesley felt someone lift him up from the floor and head became light headed. It took a while for the room to come into focus again.
"I said 'might'!" he muttered.
Suddenly a sound almost as if over a comm. system sounded. Wesley saw the Captain react as if he heard the noise as well. Then the voice of Will Riker could be heard.
*Captain, if you can hear this don't respond. We have found a way to send a message on a frequency only human ears can pick up. We are currently a little over ten minutes away from your location. If you can stall Bok for that time, we can get you all off his ship before he even knows we're there. We'll see you soon, sir.*
Another sound could be heard, and Wesley knew it signalled the end of the communication.
He made eye contact with the Captain and they nodded to each other.
"Can't we settle this between you and I, Bok?"
"Oh? And how do you propose we do that, Picard? You murdered my son!"
Wesley could feel his head still spinning, but did his best to stay focused. He had to remain alert.
"It was self defence. He fired on my ship," the Captain tried reasoning.
"You were in Ferengi space!"
"I didn't know that," he defended. "If he'd told me I would have withdrawn. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do to bring him back," Jean-Luc pleaded.
"How touching," Bok's sarcasm was evident. "You're apology is worthless to me. I demand you repay me for my loss."
Wesley could see the outrage on his mentor's face.
"You cannot put a price on a life."
"Oh, but you can, Picard. You can pay me with the life of one of these boys."
"No."
Bok walked around and whispered in his ear, loud enough for them all to still hear him.
"That's the point. You'll have to choose."
"No," he repeated.
"Either you choose which one, Picard, or they both die now. So, which do you choose to live?"
"I choo-"
*~*~*
"We will be in transporter range in three minutes, sir."
Will looked around the bridge feeling restless. They needed to move faster. He didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about this.
"Sir," Worf called. "One of the human life signs, is failing."
"No," Deanna breathed.
"Medical team to transporter!" Will ordered.
All the bridge sent up a silent prayer they wouldn't be too late.
*~*~*
"I choo-"
Suddenly, Wesley kicked the Chalna aimed at him, hitting Fetqq in his legs causing them to buckle beneath him and his weapon to point up, no longer at Wesley. Stand in a swift motion Wesley knocking him out. Turning quickly on the spot he kicked out at the other Chalna and manage to startle him making first fire miss, clear over Wesley's head. But the second round didn't miss.
Two shots hit him in the chest. One from the recovered guard and the other from Bok's disruptor.
"No!" came the strangled cry from both of the Picard men's throats.
René scooted over to where Wesley's body had landed, and placed his head on his lap. Wesley's mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but the spark left his brown eyes before the sound could pass his lips.
René heard his uncle struggle with the Ferengi and his fire to disarm the Chalna guard. But his eyes never left Wesley's.
He'd heard people talk about how you can see the life leave someone's eyes when they died, but he didn't think he'd ever see it. Ever notice the difference between lively eyes, and lifeless ones. René was horrified as the sight burned into his mind, imprinting the image on his psyche.
Wesley had sacrificed himself for him. Wesley had died to save his life.
René felt a weight drop on his chest. Guilt. He felt the guilt of letting Wesley die to save him, and it was stifling him.
No sooner had his uncle arrived beside him, than they were enveloped in a transporter beam.
Suddenly they were in a transporter room on the Enterprise.
People in blue uniforms came rushing forward and he was pushed back out of the way as they fought to put life back in Wesley's empty body. They seemed to be working furiously for quite some time, before they all stopped, realising it was pointless. He was gone.
"I'm sorry," the Vulcan who had been the directing team said, looking over past where René stood.
Turning René saw a woman, also wearing the blue uniform underneath a lab coat, with beautiful red hair. Her eyes were misting over, and his uncle was by her side.
*Bridge to Transporter Room. Respond*
René saw his uncle slowly reach up and tap his comm. badge.
"Captain Picard here."
*Sir, what's happened?*
"Wesley didn't make it," he said softly. And tapped the badge again ending the contact.
The red haired woman turned and left quickly.
René felt his eyes sting from tears. He sat down on the transporter pad and stared at his, still bound, hands.
'It's your fault!' he heard his mind scream. 'If you hadn't just sat there like a spectator he would still be alive!'
René felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into his uncle's hazel eyes.
"It's my fault," he whispered his confession. "He died to save me. He died because I did nothing."
"No, René. It wasn't your fault."
"But, he was saving me," René's voice cracked and he broke into tears. "He's dead because I couldn't-"
The strong arms of his uncle enveloped him. Hugging him through his tears.
*~*~*
Beverly ignored the chime. She didn't want an offer of sympathy from eyes filled with pity. Not right now. Today was going to be hard enough. She was going to get enough of those at the commemoration in Ten Forward at 1300.
After the third chime she decided to see who it was. She was shocked to find young René Picard standing on her door step.
"René," she called, inviting him into her quarters. "Is everything alight?"
Mutely the boy nodded.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, thank you Mrs Crusher," replied softly.
"Please, call me Beverly," she smiled at him, trying to ease the tension she could see him holding in the same way his uncle did.
He smiled back, nervously. He moved to stand in front of her, legs apart, hands clasped behind his back, and head level gazing forward. René looked every bit the Starfleet officer he so wanted to be.
"Mrs Cru- Beverly," he started. "I came here to apologise to you. I need to apologise for not helping Wesley. For letting him d-die. I should have helped him, but I sat there. I sat there doing nothing. It was like I was frozen to the spot." He lowered his head as he whispered, "Like I was just a spectator. I did nothing-" his voice became chocked, and he took a raspy breath. "I let him die, and I'm so sorry."
"René, look at me," she softly ordered.
The sixteen year old couldn't do it. He couldn't meet her eye, so she gentle lifted his head so their eyes could meet, both swimming with unshed tears.
"Wesley chose to take the risk. He chose to give his life to save yours. There wasn't anything you could have done. I don't blame you or Jean-Luc for what happened."
Beverly ran her fingers through his hair, and gave him a kiss to the forehead. She looked at him. His face was so youthful, but his eyes were that of someone older; someone who knew the cruelty of the universe. Her son's death had done that. The knowledge had aged him.
She pulled him into a hug. The young man remained stiff in her arms till she whispered in his ear, "I forgive you."
Suddenly, his arms were around her returning the hug as if he were a drowning man and she was his lifeline.
Some time passed before they both pulled back.
"Will you come with me to the commemoration today?" she asked. Seeing his reluctance she pleaded, "Please?"
Wordlessly he nodded. Beverly pulled him back into another hug, this time thinking of the last time she'd held her son like this. The last time she ever held him.
*~*~*
Jean-Luc sat there stunned. He turned off the monitor and just sat in his chair numb.
How could she keep this from him? How could Beverly, his best friend, keep something so monumental from him? How could he look her in the eye knowing she'd not told him?
Jean-Luc felt the hurt and outrage bubble inside him. His heart, still recovering from the sudden loss of a young man he'd held so close, was unprepared for such a blow. And Beverly had known this.
The door chime sounded. Jean-Luc called for the visitor to enter.
It was Will.
"Sir, it's time," he said softly.
Wesley's commemoration.
Nodding soberly Jean-Luc stood, jerked the front of his top down and followed Will back out of his quarters.
*~*~*
Beverly couldn't get over how many people had come to share their memories of Wesley. The place was almost full, and all the senior staff wasn't even here yet.
When Data had offered to organise this for her, Beverly certainly hadn't pictured this. The decorations around the room, and 'themes' for various areas around Ten Forward made for a different commemoration. Data had managed to capture so much of Wesley's personality and decorate the place in it.
His open and friendly mannerism, with a deep intelligence, also containing a cheeky streak in him a mile wide, all with an underlying seriousness for what he wanted for the future.
Beverly looked around and knew Wes would've been happy with everything. Even some of the embarrassing stories Robin had shared with everyone. At least she'd finally found out what exactly had happened in those first few weeks at the Academy he'd refused to talk to her about. The pranks, and general mischief he'd had done to him, and pulled himself.
Beverly couldn't help but smile as a lieutenant from engineering was intrigued at how Wesley had managed to get the antimatter regulator to spray chilly sauce all over another cadet.
She noticed Jean-Luc and Will as they entered. Deanna beckoned them over to where they stood by the bar, René also with them.
Her smile vanished as she made eye contact with Jean-Luc.
He knew. Somehow, he knew.
Beverly's mouth went dry, a lump grow at the back of her throat and a led weight dropped into her stomach. She looked down and focused on her drink as the two men joined them.
Will and Deanna started up a comfortable conversation that easily drew the others in. They all stood chatting for a while, Will and Deanna sharing a few humours stories they each had about Wesley.
"Doctor," Jean-Luc started softly, leaning in closer to her, "a word?"
Beverly nodded mutely knowing she couldn't avoid this. Jean-Luc had a right to ask her questions, and deserved her honest answers.
*~*~*
They entered a private room to the side of Ten Forward. Immediately Jean-Luc began pacing. He walked to the view port, then turned and passed a couch to his left, a lowered table to his right, and ended back by the door. After doing the same thing three more times he turned and faced her. Beverly had seated herself on the settee and awaited his questions, one leg tucked under her.
"He was dying?" Jean-Luc asked in a strained voice.
A part of him wanted her to deny it. To tell him the delayed message he'd received from Wesley was a joke. A prank that was just ill timed. But all of those hopes were dashed with Beverly soft utterance of;
"Yes."
"Frangeloff Syndrome?"
"Yes."
Jean-Luc looked out the small window, and ran a hand over his smooth scalp.
"How? How could he develop Frangeloff Syndrome? That's a-" he paused, unable to remember which species it was exactly, "a non-human genetic disease," Jean-Luc implored, as if reason could undo it somehow.
"It a Gilliro genetic defect. Jack's great-great-grandfather carried the gene. Wesley had a one in …" Beverly paused calculating it, "thirty million chance of developing anything because of it. Wesley always had been special," she whispered.
Silence fell between them. It seemed to stretch on long past a comfortable point.
"How long?" Jean-Luc asked, knowing Beverly knew what he meant, and hating at the audible weakness in his voice.
"He was diagnosed with it two months ago, so, ten to sixteen months."
"Ten months?" Jean-Luc breathed.
He felt his knees go weak, and quickly sat himself down on the lowered table. A burning and stinging sensation stung at his eyes. His insides were cold and he had to concentrate on breathing. He could only stare at the carpeted ground, unable to meet Beverly's eyes.
"That's was worse case," he could hear the tremor in her voice. "It didn't appear to be that severe a case. He would've had eight, maybe nine months before the symptoms would've become inhibiting."
Jean-Luc had to shut his eyes to try and stop his tears escaping. The list of the symptoms scrolled through his mind; collapse of dexterity in the limbs, failure of motor control, then loss of control of bodily functions, and then finally the loss of control of his vocal cords. All the while his mind would still be alert as ever. Jean-Luc could imagine nothing more daunting as having your mind witnessing the deteriorating of your body, and unable to do anything to prevent it.
After regaining his composure, he looked up at Beverly and saw she'd shed her own tears.
"How long?" he croaked out. "How long have you known?"
Beverly took a shaky breath.
"He told me the day after his diagnosis," she whispered.
"Two months?" he asked, clarifying. She nodded. "You've known for two months and never said anything to me?"
Jean-Luc felt the hurt and betrayal from earlier return and envelope the coldness inside him with burning anger. He could hardly believe Beverly was capable of such an act, such deceit, such treachery.
"I promised Wesley I wouldn't tell anyone," Beverly confessed. "He was going to come aboard next month and tell everyone himself, in person."
"Well obviously not everyone," he fumed, getting to his feet. "He sent me a delayed message that I received this morning. Why didn't you tell me when I explained to you what Bok had planed? You left me weighing up between killing René and a dying Wesley? Did you not see how telling me could benefit the situation? Or did you want to save Wesley so I could have ten months with him, before he died? To give up René's bright future, for Wesley's ten months?"
He could see the tears in her eyes, but at that moment, he didn't care.
"How was I to know that Bok was going to do something that day?" Beverly countered. Her eyes were watery, but her voice was firm as she stood, and faced him. "I though Bok was going to string us along for a while. Taunt you a bit more. Then, in that time Data and Geordi were going to figure out a way to best him. I thought we would end up on top. Like we always do."
Before either of them could say anything else the door opened and René entered.
"René, is something the matter?" Jean-Luc asked, some of his anger dissipating at the sight of him.
"I was talking with Councillor Troi, and shared my own story about Wesley. She thought I should tell it to the two of you," the teenager explained, looking a bit awkward. "I thought it should wait, but she said you two needed to be interrupted before one of you said something you'd regret."
Jean-Luc looked over to Beverly and as she avoided his eyes, he realised it might too late for that already.
"What story did you have to share with us?" Beverly asked, inviting him to come sit beside her on the couch.
"It was from our day together, the day we were taken," he softly began, sitting next to her. "Wesley was taken first, and I think he'd been there a while. He asked me my name, how old I was, and promised me things would work out. Looking back now, he must have planed to sacrifice himself, because he was making quite an effort to get on the guards nerves." René smiled at the memory, all of Jean-Luc's anger disappearing at the display. "He kept asking them questions; how much they were getting paid, what their favourite Klingon war ballad was, if they were sure that their weapons were operating properly. Even suggested on how they could improve their weapons efficiency. Then he started 'teaching' me phrases and insults not to say to easily insulted races, such as Chalnas and Nausicaans. That's how he got on Fetqq's bad side.
"Later, after he'd been knocked out by Fetqq twice, Wesley told me why we were there. He said Bok was going to make you choose which one of us would live, then kill the one you chose." Jean-Luc couldn't hide the shock from his face, but René didn't see it. He lowered his head and whispered, "I didn't believe him. Not until I heard Bok ask you which one of us you chose to live."
René raised his head again and Jean-Luc saw him looked between himself and Beverly.
"When Wesley told me that, he asked me to promise him something. Promise not to let guilt or anger come between you two. To remind you both that you have let that stand in the way of your happiness for long enough. To tell you, he wanted you both to be happy." The young Picard gave a small smile, "And that he thought you'd be happiest together."
Jean-Luc met Beverly's eyes and something passed between them. Not something physical, something more spiritual. Like an admittance, a recognition, a promise of things to come. Not right away, not now, but soon, things would be resolved between them.
René stood, breaking the trance linking them.
"I must get going. I promised Maman and Papa yesterday I would call, and let them know when I should be back at Earth. Papa has delayed this year's harvest. He said it's worth risking a bad batch if it means more than one Picard is out working on the fields."
Jean-Luc chuckled.
"That's Robert's way of trying to get me to join this harvest, isn't it?"
René just smiled.
"I'll think about it. It'll certainly make the '71 a memorable wine."
René continued to smile as he left to call his parents. There was a momentary pause, and then Beverly stood to follow René out, and return to Ten Forward.
Jean-Luc quickly got up and prevented her from leaving. She turned back to him confused. He looked at her with eyes filled with sorrow and regret for his previous words spoken in anger.
"Beverly," he started softly. "I'm sorry. I never should've said those things. I never should have accused you of-"
She cut him off by placing a finger over his mouth.
"It's okay, Jean-Luc," she replied gently. "I know you didn't mean it. It's okay, I've got thick skin," she lightly joked, a shadow of a smile crossing her face.
She then pulled him into a hug. As the sent of her surrounded him, it provided Jean-Luc with the strength and comfort that only she could give him. A strength and comfort he had received so many times. He wondered of she ever found the same comfort in his embrace as he did hers. He hoped so.
He apologised again, whispering it in her ear.
He felt her shake her head, as she whispered, "There's nothing to forgive. It's okay, Jean-Luc. We're going to be okay."
*~*~*
"Come," she called putting her clothes into her carry case.
She looked up and saw Jean-Luc enter with his own carry case over his shoulder, and wearing his civilian clothes.
"Are you almost ready?" he asked.
"Almost," she nodded. "So, you are going to join in the harvest this year then?"
He nodded.
"Robert actually waited a whole week for us to get to Earth, I don't often get the chance to be here in time for it."
"And you want to get amongst the vines," she added for him smiling.
"Am I that obvious?" he asked, looking a bit sheepish.
"Only to me," she clarified to him.
Beverly put the last of her items into the case and snapped it shut. Looking up she saw Jean-Luc had moved right next to her.
"Will you come and visit us in Labarre? René keeps asking if you will, and Marie would really like to meet you," he inquired.
Beverly knew what he wasn't saying. Marie wanted to thank her for her son's sacrifice.
She was about to turn him down, when he put his arms around her waist.
"I'd like you to come. I want to shown you my childhood home," he said softly, leaning his head closer.
"Okay," she nodded conceding.
Seeing the smile that lit up his face she couldn't fight a smile entering her own.
"I have to make a few arrangements with the Crushers, I'll be a day or two, but I'll come," she promised
"Thank you," he whispered, before giving her a gentle kiss.
They had exchanged many kisses like this over the last week. Kisses of friendship, of support, of compassion and some that were promises of what they knew was to come.
They both agreed to move their relationship forward, but they would take it slow.
"I love you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I love you too," he assured her, holding her close to him.
As he pulled her into his embrace, Beverly felt a wave serenity sweep through her. Together they would survive whatever the future held.
Fins.