Chapter One
Captain's Log, Stardate 44182.5. The Enterprise has been tasked with providing assistance to the planet Hasolon IV, which is currently undergoing severe seismic activity. We have returned to Starbase 133 in order to load tectonic stabilizers which may help to prevent further earthquakes and restore geological activity to normal levels. In addition, we will be transporting a team of Starfleet's top geologists, who will carry out the in-depth work on Hasolon.
No Starfleet regulation demanded that the captain of a starship be present to meet visiting specialists upon their arrival in the transporter room. Yet Jean-Luc Picard made time for this task whenever he could. As he walked through the corridors of the Enterprise, he mused that in another life – one not so terribly different from the life he now led – he might well have become a scientist or historian. Conversations with scholars at the top of their fields allowed him a brief glimpse into other minds, other paths. It fed his curiosity, and therefore his soul.
One of the great twentieth-century Earth authors, Jorge Luis Borges, had written, I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library. Jean-Luc liked that quote. He believed in no afterlife, but the thought of an eternity spent learning … it made him understand the appeal of immortality.
"Jean-Luc?"
He turned to see Beverly Crusher walking up behind him – distinct from the other crewmembers around them with her coppery hair and long blue coat. This was her usual uniform, her usual smile; to anyone who did not know her as well as Jean-Luc did, she no doubt looked precisely like she did any other day.
But she did not regularly call him by his first name while they were in the presence of the crew. And he could see the hesitation in her eyes – the sense of uncertainty that had tugged at her ever since the incident with the warp bubble that had very nearly cost Beverly her life.
How terrifying it must have been, Jean-Luc thought, not for the first time. To have the entire universe shrinking around you, blotting out everyone you had ever known or loved. Perhaps she was merely walking the ship to enjoy once again being in an infinite universe rather than one smaller than the saucer section.
He said, "Beverly. What brings you here this time of day? I hope you're not tracking me down for more diagnostics."
There. He had joked about it – the need to have his body scoured by endless scans, searching for any sign of nanites or other microtechnology that might have been left behind by the Borg. He'd acted as if it were any other test, on any other day. As if he weren't haunted by the idea of that evil lurking within him, waiting to hatch …
"Actually, I decided I'd like to meet the geology team beaming in from the Starbase," Beverly replied as she fell into step beside him.
"Really? I hadn't thought you had much of an interest in geology."
She gave him a sidelong smile – an expression of hers that had never failed to warm him inside, not once in all these years. "You know full well why I want to meet the team – or its leader, anyway. Why didn't you tell me about her yourself?"
"You're a step ahead of me. I've not yet had time to review the personnel logs." Which was one reason he meant to get to Transporter Room Three early – it would give him a moment to call up the relevant files. Reviewing the latest intel on the Romulan movements near the Neutral Zone had been his first priority, but now he found himself caught up short.
"You don't even know, hmm? Not like you to fall behind," she teased as the doors swished open for them to enter the transporter room. From behind his duty station, Chief O'Brien gave them a quick nod.
Jean-Luc had his chance to review records on the nearest screen, but decided not to. Beverly was enjoying knowing more than he did. Might as well let her play. "Do I get a hint?"
"Let's just say – " Her smile softened. In her eyes he could see her vulnerability, and her knowledge of his own. "Maybe it would do us both good to talk over old times."
He raised one eyebrow and turned to O'Brien. "Is the team ready?"
O'Brien nodded. "Awaiting your word, Captain."
"Energize."
The shimmer in the air, the silvery sound of molecular reconstruction – and then six Starfleet officers materialized before his eyes. Even before she had become fully solid – while she was still no more than a flicker in the air – Jean-Luc recognized Sun Xia.
And the heaviness in his gut hit him so hard that he could hardly think.
For only a moment. No more. Jean-Luc Picard was not a man easily disarmed by circumstance. He reminded himself, You were friends, then. On some levels, you still are. Act like it.
"Captain Picard," Xia said as she stepped off the platform. If she felt any trepidation at seeing him again, there was no sign of it on her face. Yet her tone was – even. Careful.
"Commander Sun, now, I see." As they clasped hands – something more than a handshake, but far less than an embrace – he was acutely aware of Beverly standing close, observing all.
Slowly Xia began to smile. "I was going to ask if you missed our days on the Stargazer as much as I do, but that's ridiculous. Nothing can possibly match being captain of the Enterprise."
"But a captain's first command and first crew are always irreplaceable, and in some way always a part of him." He felt as if he were getting his feet under him again, or could, if Beverly would refrain from speaking just a few moments longer. "You're leading the scientific team for Hasolon IV? Please, introduce me to your fellow officers."
Then there was the usual patter of names and ranks, which his methodical mind slotted into place: Commander T'Sara, Lieutenant Commander Sung Gi Song, Lieutenant Commander Ngaire Mere. He smiled politely, asked the correct questions, and thought he would actually be able to converse intelligently with them about their mission later.
Right now, however, he wanted out of this transporter room – or, more precisely, for Beverly not to be standing there, watching him and no doubt sensing the discomfort he was trying to hold inside.
As the rest of the team began to head to the cargo bays to oversee equipment transfers, Xia lingered. "You look well, Captain," she said. Her smile turned impish. "Or dare I go back to Jean-Luc?"
"Of course, Xia." And it did feel good to say her name again. The old anger had no place inside him any longer –
"I should introduce myself," Beverly said, stepping forward. "We met once, but so long ago I hardly remember, and you must have forgotten completely. I'm Dr. Beverly Crusher, CMO here on the Enterprise –"
"Jack's wife." Xia's face fell, but she rallied, taking the hand Beverly had offered her. "I don't know what to say – except that Jack was a good man. One of the best I've ever known. And I'm so sorry, so incredibly sorry."
Beverly shook her head. "It was a long time ago, but it's good to know Jack's remembered." There was a brief pause before she added, "Our son Wesley serves here on the Enterprise."
"Wesley? The same toddler I saw in his daddy's holos? A Starfleet officer?" Xia groaned. "When did we get so old?"
Jean-Luc couldn't decide whether he was relieved Xia had handled this reunion so smoothly, or whether he found it irritating as hell. He joked as well as he could: "Speak for yourself."
Xia opened her mouth in mock horror. She always had been playful – he remembered that now. "Not very gallant of you."
"Nor accurate," he said. "You haven't aged a day."
It wasn't mere flattery. Sun Xia had always been a lovely woman, but if anything, the past fifteen years had only ripened her beauty. When he'd first known her, a willowy young officer on her first-deep space assignment, he'd thought her striking. Now, the mere sight of her face seemed to fill the room. Her thick, shining, blue-black hair fell so long down her back that it verged on regulation limits; her oval face was dominated by dark, thick-lashed eyes. Surely no one could look away.
Except, of course, Beverly, who was looking straight at him.
Jean-Luc tugged at the front of his uniform jacket, physically and mentally straightening himself. "Well. No doubt you'll want to head to the cargo bay with the rest of your team."
"And if you have time while you're here, perhaps all of us can spend an evening together," Beverly interjected. "I'd love for Wesley to have the chance to talk about his father with someone else who knew him."
"Um, maybe," Xia replied absently. Her eyes remained locked on Jean-Luc's, and now he could see that her earlier good humor had been a projection – a way of making this moment easier. For some reason, however, she now felt they were past the point of ease. "I – I need to greet the rest of our party. A civilian."
"A family member?" He remembered something about this; although it was unusual for visiting specialists to bring their loved ones along, such arrangements could be made on a ship as large as the Enterprise.
"Yes." Xia opened her mouth, as if she would have said more, but already Chief O'Brien was working at his panel, accepting the transporter signal from Starbase 133. She turned then to face the figure materializing on the pad, a woman –
- no. A girl. Perhaps 14 years old, with her mother's shining hair and dark eyes. Yet the shock of recognition that hit Jean-Luc then had nothing to do with this child's resemblance to Sun Xia.
"Nicole." Xia held out her arms; her daughter, already a teenager, rolled her eyes as she submitted to the hug. "Did you pack all your things?"
"What would it matter if I didn't? Replicators could make it all over again." Nicole said so good-naturedly that it took the edge off her words. From her place in her mother's embrace, she said, "So, you're the famous Captain Picard. I've heard a lot about you."
How was he still smiling? How was he able to look down at this girl and pretend nothing was wrong? For her sake, he told himself, and was shocked to realize how true it was. "Welcome to the Enterprise, Nicole."
"I'll get her settled into her cabin," Xia said as she began shepherding Nicole toward the doors. Any pretense at Starfleet protocol had been abandoned. "We'll meet again at the mission briefing."
Jean-Luc simply nodded. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until the Suns walked into the corridor and the doors slid shut behind them.
Beverly turned toward him, the unspoken question written on her face. He refused to look her in the eye. "Not now, Doctor."
Surprisingly, she accepted this … at least, for the moment. With one nod, Beverly walked out and left Jean-Luc to stand in the transporter room with Chief O'Brien and the chaos swirling inside his own mind.
She cannot be.
She can't.
But all the denial in the world could not erase what he knew to be true, and had known since the first moment he'd seen Nicole's face.
Beverly Crusher was not a gossip. A certain amount of chatter was inevitable on a ship like this – even necessary, so the rivalries and relationships formed among the crew could be smoothly worked around. But beyond that, Beverly refused to go. She was a private person by nature, and preferred to allow others their privacy as well.
Sometimes she thought that was why she and Jean-Luc were such good friends. They shared so much, and yet they gave each other space and silence, too.
Yet maybe there had been more silence between them than she realized.
"Mom?" Wesley's voice brought her back to herself. He sat across the table from her, one fork buried in his breakfast omelet. "You drifted off into subspace again."
"Sorry. I don't know where my head is this morning." She managed a smile for him. "It's a treat, having you come over for breakfast. So I don't want to miss it."
"Your mind's on something else." The corner of his mouth quirked. "I bet I know what, too."
"Oh, really?" Beverly took a sip of coffee.
"I sat in on the engineering briefing about the plate tectonics project for Hasolon IV. Everything ran according to procedure, and Captain Picard acted normal, but – I know him well enough to tell he was uncomfortable. And it seems like Commander Sun was the reason why."
"There's no need to speculate."
"Nope, because it's obvious. They can't even look at each other, and she's, like, supernova hot."
"Wesley! Commander Sun is my age."
He shrugged, like, can't help the facts. "You know the captain way better than I do. Back when they served on the Stargazer, they must have been – did the two of them have a –"
"Captain Picard has never mentioned her to me before," she said, as sternly as she could manage. "And his love life is none of our business."
"It isn't? News to me."
That made Beverly put down her coffee cup. "I beg your pardon?"
Wesley tried to act casual, but the act wouldn't have fooled a complete stranger, much less his mother. "Ever since they subdivided our quarters so I've got my own cabin – seems to me like Captain Picard comes over for breakfast a lot. I see him in the corridors sometimes, on his way here."
"There is nothing improper about two people having breakfast." But Beverly felt her cheeks warm.
"I'm just wondering how early he's going to start showing up for breakfast," Wesley said. The clear implication was, say, the night before.
"Listen to me," she said. "There is nothing between me and Captain Picard. There never has been, even though we've known each other a very long time."
Wesley awkwardly toyed with his fork. "Mom, I realize you and the captain aren't, um, involved, but – are you seriously telling me nothing's going there? Because sometimes it seems like there is." He stared down at his plate. "A lot of the time, actually."
Beverly resisted a sigh. "Do you really want the answers to these questions?"
"Not in any detail," Wes said in a rush. At any other time, the horrified expression on his face would have made her laugh. "At all. Ever. But if … things are changing, I guess I'd like to know."
She stopped to carefully consider what she would say next. Wesley had become an adult, and a Starfleet cadet in his own right. He lived in his own quarters. He was still her son and always would be – but they had reached the point in life where she could no longer avoid his more uncomfortable questions with dodges like because I'm your mother. She and her son needed to begin forging an adult relationship.
Which meant admitting some of her vulnerabilities, and uncertainties.
"Jean-Luc and I …" Beverly folded her hands together and brought them to her chin as she struggled for the words. "It's complicated. We share a long history, and I suppose we're – drawn to one another."
"No details." Wes looked seasick.
She laughed despite herself. "There are no details to tell. The captain and I have chosen to remain friends. Pursuing anything more would be complicated, because of our positions on this ship." But that wasn't the real reason, and Wesley deserved to hear it. "Really, though, I think it has to do with your father."
"Dad?" This made Wesley frown in consternation. "You've dated other guys since Dad died."
"Naturally. As deeply as I mourn Jack, I never intended to live out the rest of my life alone. He would never have wanted that for me, just as I would've wanted him to move on if I'd been the one who died young." They'd never talked about it. Never had to. She and Jack hadn't needed words to understand each other. "But your father was the reason Captain Picard and I met. We both loved him. We both lost him. For all those years, Jean-Luc believed I blamed him for Jack's death. I let him go on believing that, because – because it helped me endure the grief I felt, knowing someone else was in just as much pain."
That was even more clearly than she'd ever been able to say this to Deanna, or even to herself. Wesley stared at her, obviously unsure what to do with her new candor. Well, that makes two of us, Beverly thought. She took a deep breath, clearing her head.
"We've gotten past all that now, thank goodness. Our past is in the past, and that's where it needs to stay. Besides, your dad was – the love of my life. The kind of love most people never find at all." Beverly leaned her head to one side, studying Wesley's face to find Jack's chin, his mouth. "Jean-Luc understands that as well as I do; he was there, after all. Jack's good friend and mine."
If she and Jean-Luc ever pursued a romance, Beverly knew she would in effect be asking Jean-Luc to accept he'd always be second-best in her heart. He deserved better. He deserved a love without limits.
Of course, there were moments when Beverly wondered whether those limits would actually hold true, the moments when she and Jean-Luc shared a private joke, or leaned on each other in a crisis. Or even sometimes when he wore one of those loose, v-neck shirts that made her want to –
But loving Jean-Luc as deeply as she had loved Jack would feel like such a betrayal. Her husband had lost his life, all the decades and adventures he should have had; she would take nothing else from him, especially not her heart.
By now Wesley clearly was at a loss of what to say or do. Beverly didn't blame him. She might have confided too much too soon. More briskly, she concluded, "Both the captain and I are content with our relationship as friends. So I'm not going to snoop into his love life, present or past. That goes triple for you, young man."
"Don't worry. It's not like I'd say anything to the others." Wesley resumed his breakfast. "But if the captain and Commander Sun keep acting like that around each other – I won't have to say anything. Everybody will already know."
How many of those people would see Nicole, and learn the rest?
That question weighed on Beverly for the rest of their breakfast, and throughout her morning shift. Only routine medical complaints came her way – Ensign Pamuk's twisted ankle, Lieutenant Ruby's case of some mild alien flu. So her mind was free to wander.
Jean-Luc, a father? He'd always been so vehement about not wanting children, about not having any time for a family – but Beverly remembered how Jean-Luc had been the few times he'd visited home with Jack after Wesley's birth. No, he wasn't the type to sing to a baby or make silly faces. He had, however, held Wesley with care. He'd told stories about the constellations, the myths people believed in ancient times, and told them so well that Wes had been rapt with attention – this, at an age when her little boy had hardly been able to concentrate on a picture book. Once, the very last time Jack had invited him over during a shore leave, Jean-Luc had sat with Wesley folding paper airplanes, showing him how to bend the wings for lift. Those experiences, plus his firm but compassionate hand with junior officers, had told Beverly that Jean-Luc's paternal instinct might be rusty from lack of use, but as strong as any other man's. He simply didn't allow himself to acknowledge the value of things he'd given up.
Denial wasn't the worst coping mechanism, really.
But a daughter he'd never even known about? That could devastate him. If Jean-Luc were a parent, he would want to be deeply involved in his child's life. Both love and duty would demand that of him. Nicole had grown up half a galaxy away, with no more knowledge of her father than he had of her …
You're jumping the gun, Beverly reminded herself. You don't know Nicole's his daughter. That's an assumption you're making, and it's one hell of a leap.
Yet when she remembered Jean-Luc's expression as he'd seen Xia for the first time – and then his utter shock when Nicole had materialized on the transporter pad – Beverly knew one thing for sure.
Jean-Luc was asking himself hard questions for which he had no answers.
So far.
"Dr. Crusher?" Nurse Ogawa called from sickbay. "We need you out here."
Beverly rushed out to see Lieutenant Kumari supported between two other security officers. One of them said to her, "Come on, Chamila, hang in there."
"I can't – " Kumari's voice slurred. "I can't seem to stand up."
"Get her on a biobed." Medical tricorder in hand, Beverly began to scan Kumari's vital signs. Her eyes widened as she took it in. Massive systemic failure, the sort of thing she'd expect to see in a patient in his 120s. Lieutenant Kumari had been in for a routine physical only two months before and had passed with flying colors. What could ignite such a collapse in a young, healthy woman?
On the next biobed, Lieutenant Ruby groaned. Nurse Ogawa turned to him to provide palliative care even as Beverly helped ease Kumari onto a bed of her own. But then Ogawa said, "Dr. Crusher. Ruby's vitals – "
Beverly turned, and her eyes widened. She would have expected him to be on the mend by now, but instead, his lifesigns had all dropped. Although alarms weren't yet going off, his readings were scary as hell … and far too similar to Lieutenant Kumari's.
The virus she'd detected in Ruby's blood had all the features of an influenza bug, but had that structure hidden something far more dangerous?
Quickly she turned to Kumari, scanning her blood. The tricorder blinked as it found that same virus, multiplying rapidly.
But Ruby's in engineering. Kumari's in security. Their quarters are nowhere near each other's. That means there's probably another vector of infection. Or many vectors.
"Computer?" Beverly said. "What percentage of the ship's civilian personnel reported in sick today?"
The mechanical voice replied, "Twelve point eight percent."
Far too high. Normal levels would be around two percent. "And what about the children? What percentage of the children on board were excused from class?"
"Nineteen point one."
Her eyes widened. Civilians and children took days off more readily than Starfleet officers did. Even now, crewmembers were struggling through fatigue and low-grade fevers, telling themselves they'd be fine after a good night's sleep … and spreading contagion around the ship.
Then the sickbay doors slid open again, and Nurse Ogawa gasped. Beverly turned from her patient to see Ensign Fuentes staggering toward them. His knees seemed to give out from under him, and Ogawa caught Fuentes just before he would have fallen to the deck.
In a few select instances, the authority of a starship's chief medical officer could supersede that of the captain. Only one shipboard alert was within her power alone. Beverly immediately pressed her hand to the nearest wall panel and spoke the word that would shut down every transporter pad, ground every shuttle and seal every single person on the Enterprise inside.
"Quarantine."