Author's Note: I've made a few minor edits from the version posted to ASC to correct some time line references that no one else would notice but they bugged the crap out of me.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns them. The day I make money on any of this stuff, they are more than welcome to their cut. Go ahead, guys, start holding your breath now.

Remembrance
By E. Wallace
2001

Captain's Log - Supplemental:

It has been four hours since our encounter with the Egelloc at Dakar 6 ended. Discovering their location was a fluke, especially in that we weren't actively looking for it. It was mere happenstance that the Enterprise was close enough to respond to a distress signal from a Legna freighter in time to prevent their abduction.

This is the first time the Egelloc have been caught 'in residence'. Abandoned outposts have been found scattered across three sectors, always littered with the dead remnants of their 'experiments'. On the rare occasions that their victims have been found alive, the stories have been chilling.

Starfleet Intelligence has been able to glean precious little information from those few survivors other than that the Egelloc claimed to be behaviorists, students of other species. That lofty label is belied by the amoral disregard they show for the rights and sensibilities of those unfortunate enough to become one of their subjects.

The Egelloc homeworld prefers that almost all contact take place away from their planet, allowing few off-worlders permission to visit. They are allied with the Federation, but because they opted against full membership, they can call on the UFP in times of need yet cannot be compelled to reciprocate.

In this case, their isolationist government has consistently disavowed itself of any knowledge or responsibility for this alleged splinter group and sees no reason to be concerned by anything that does not happen on their planet. New indications appear to contradict that stance and suspicions are mounting that these heinous crimes are being performed with the full knowledge and support of the homeworld.

The Federation Council will have to deal with that. For now, our focus must be on Dakar 6. The despicable 'research' center that the Egelloc left behind is a maze of tiny rooms that a dozen Away Teams are still searching. Nearly 100 survivors have already been rescued, but the unimaginable torture they have suffered means a long and difficult recovery for each.

x~x

Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Counselor Deanna Troi stood in silent witness to the frenzied activity of Sickbay. Doctors and nurses busily attended to the most severely injured victims who had been transferred from the triage center set up in shuttle bay one.

He made a mental note to commend his chief medical officer for the training she had given her staff. They had leapt into action as though the CMO herself had fired off the orders. Still, he wished she were here, not on leave. Turning, he asked, "How are you doing, Counselor?" They were short handed enough without losing her, too.

"I'll be all right," Deanna sighed, rolling her shoulders a couple of times to release some of the tension.

Suddenly, the comm system beeped.

"Riker to Transporter Room! Emergency beam up! Two directly to Sickbay!" The words still hung in the air as the familiar transporter shimmer appeared in front of them. It faded to reveal Will Riker, gently cradling a blanket wrapped figure.

"I need a doctor here - now!"

Despite the urgency of his tone, he laid his unmoving burden on the biobed with unusual care then stepped back, out of the way of the swarming medical team.

The fact that he had overridden the medical protocols and beamed directly to Sickbay was evidence enough of the seriousness of what he had found, but there was more to it.

Picard didn't need Deanna to identify the almost palpable rage emanating from his first officer. "What is it, Number One?"

Shoulders rigid, fists clenched at his sides, Riker's eyes never left the bed. "It just got... personal."

A gasp from the attending nurse drew their attention before he could continue. To Picard and Deanna's horror, Dr. Selar had peeled away the blanket to reveal the badly bruised face of Beverly Crusher.

x~x

Earlier...

Worf cautiously opened the door of the cell. His Klingon blood boiled at the thought of the atrocities performed here.

'The Egelloc are completely without honor. How could any race use another for such sadistic 'experiments'?'

The cowards had fled once they knew the battle was lost. Rescuing the survivors had rightly taken precedence over tracking down their abusers, but Worf longed to give them a taste of their own work.

The last few cells had been empty, yet his skin prickled with unease as he opened the next door. Most of the pitiful creatures he had found simply cowered as far from the door as possible, having learned to fear their captors' attentions. Some spirits, however, had not yet been broken. Several times he had had to fend off flying fists and feet from prisoners still unwilling to give in.

Worf slowly scanned the room with his palm beacon. He thought this cell, too, was empty, but a slight movement caught his eye. "I will not harm you," he said as he stepped nearer.

In the corner, a filthy, tattered blanket moved and a pair of frightened blue eyes widened. "Worf?" the voice, barely recognizable, rasped like sandpaper.

Recognition, horror and rage swept through him as he reached out to her. "Dr. Crusher?"

"Don't touch me!" she moaned, turning away.

Worf hurried back into the corridor. Spotting the group at the far end, he called urgently, "Commander Riker! Come quickly!"

Responding to the summons, Will Riker shuddered to think, after all they had seen, what could have put that note of revulsion in the Security chief's voice.

Worf looked as if he were about to be sick. "It's Dr. Crusher!"

Riker stared in disbelief, knowing he had to have heard wrong. His light found the cell's occupant, and his stomach tightened. "Dear God! Beverly!" He moved towards her, but she scrambled weakly backwards, further into the corner. Her voice was faint, but he and Worf heard the words clearly.

"Please, Will, just let me die!"

x~x

In the conference room, the counselor tried to reassure the shaken men. "You must have been mistaken."

"Mistaken? Deanna, she called us by name, begged us to let her die! She literally passed out from fear when we got close to her." Will pounded his fist on the table as he choked back a moan. "What the hell did they do to her?"

No one had an answer to his heart wrenching question, and having heard the rumors about the Egelloc's vile practices, no one wanted to be able to answer him.

Rubbing Will's arm in a small, unconscious attempt to comfort him - and herself - Deanna turned her attention to the head of the table. Picard's stoic face revealed none of the emotions swirling within him.

They were the same emotions she felt intensifying as word spread through the Enterprise that one of their own had been discovered in that hell hole. Straining her skills almost to the limit, she tried to shut them out, turning again when another voice spoke.

"How did she get there?" Worf demanded gruffly from his position by the door to the bridge.

"An excellent question, lieutenant," the captain said, speaking for the first time since leaving Sickbay. The question gave him something to focus on, something other than the vision in his mind - Beverly.

Beverly, abused, tortured, lying unconscious in her own Sickbay.

They were still waiting for a detailed report on her injuries - and a prognosis.

With an effort, Picard turned his attention to the question of 'how'. "She was supposed to be spending her shore leave on Kiris, but her first stop was Starbase 214. Start there, and let's see if we can track her movements."

Worf grunted, pushing down his instinctive desire to hunt down the Egelloc, but any action was better than none at all. He stalked out to the bridge without a word.

x~x

The final count as the Enterprise warped away from Dakar 6 was 173 survivors, 59 dead. Before they reached the nearest medical starbase, a mere 48 hours away, both of those numbers had been adjusted by three. They lost two men and a woman who simply gave up, each seemingly unable to bear the prospect of a long, agonizing recovery but at peace in the knowledge that they would not die in captivity.

The ship and its crew had handled larger numbers of casualties, but this was unlike anything in their experience. The broken and battered bodies could be repaired with bone knitters and dermal regenerators. The shattered minds and souls would receive no such quick fixes.

All personnel with psychiatric training were kept busy nearly around the clock. The snippets of stories that were already surfacing were barbaric in their detailing of the physical and psychological abuse inflicted, and the variety of techniques was appalling.

Beverly's story, however, remained a mystery. She spent the better part of two days under sedation because consciousness had brought only hysteria.

x~x

Picard had made a brief stop on the bridge to start his shift before turning command over to his second officer.

Entering Sickbay, relief threatened to overload his mechanical heart when he saw that Beverly was conscious, sitting on the edge of the biobed and though she appeared tense, she wasn't hysterical.

Starkly framed by auburn hair, her face was pale, the high cheekbones even more pronounced. The blue, standard issue hospital gown hung loosely - another emphasis on the weight she had lost. She looked fragile, as though the slightest touch would shatter her. The haunted look in her eyes made him want to take her in his arms and protect her from whatever horrors had been committed against her.

He had read the injury report until every word was burned into his memory. Superficial cuts and scrapes covered much of her body. Deep bruising marked where ribs had been cracked. Delicate surgery had been required to repair her fractured right wrist. There had also been evidence of sexual abuse. The extent of any mental and emotional damage was still unknown.

It was an effort for Picard to turn his attention to Deanna when she stepped away from the circle of medical staff attending the doctor.

"How is she, Counselor?"

Deanna should have been happy to report that Beverly was awake, but even that good news was tempered by a revelation so new that there hadn't been time to report it. With a sigh, she said, "Her physical injuries have been healed as you know, but - " She glanced over her shoulder then motioned the captain into Beverly's office. "Upon waking a short while ago, she did not display the anticipated agitation but rather an almost paralyzing confusion, which we ultimately discovered was caused by..." Deanna hesitated, but there was just no easy way to say it. "Captain, Beverly has no recollection of what happened to her. In fact, she has no memory at all."

"Amnesia?" Picard asked hollowly. Even as the counselor nodded, his mind continued to fight the reality of the unexpected announcement and its overwhelming implications. "Can you help her?"

Deanna nodded. "I believe so, but it will take time. However, bringing back the positive memories will also mean bringing back the traumatic ones."

"Memories traumatic enough to cause amnesia?" His stomach tightened at her nod. "Do you have any idea yet what sort of memories those might be?"

"It's all speculation at this point. There was obvious physical torture, but most of those injuries had already begun to heal. It's more likely that the amnesia is a result of the psychological experimentation we now know the Egelloc are so fond of." Bitterness was clear in her tone and she struggled for the professional detachment she desperately needed to maintain control. "Right now, Beverly is very bewildered and frightened... and vulnerable. It might help if you talked to her, Captain. You've known her longer than anyone; hopefully she will feel safe with you, even if she doesn't understand why."

Picard was at a loss. He had no idea how to comfort Beverly, to help her. Memories of his own captivity in the hands of a Cardassian sadist made him shudder to think what might have happened to her. He had at least been able to return to people he recognized, knew, trusted. Beverly had awakened from a nightmare into a world of strangers.

He wished that he could spare her the pain of having to reopen the mental and emotional wounds inflicted upon her, but Beverly was his friend, the woman he secretly loved. He had to find a way to help her.

Steeling himself, Picard walked back into Sickbay as the doctors and nurses found other things to do to give them some privacy.

The patient sighed inwardly as the group of people that had surrounded her moved away. It had taken every bit of self-control to remain calm when she had woken up. She had learned the last few times that if she got upset, they would press that silver hissing thing to her neck or arm, and she would know nothing until she woke again hours later. Instinct told her that if she was going to get away, she had to be awake and alert.

'getawaygetawaygetawaygetaway'

The words chased each other in her head. She didn't know where she was, but somehow it frightened her, and she knew she could not stay here. Where she would go was something she could worry about later.

A man was moving toward her, and she eyed him warily. She had seen him come in and was relieved when the dark-eyed woman went to talk to him. The woman's soft, melodic voice left her more on edge than the questions she asked... questions to which she had no answers.

Stopping in front of her, he smiled reassuringly. "Hello, it's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"All right, I guess." Her voice was low with a slight rasp to it, and she shied away when he leaned a bit closer to hear her.

Seeing her reaction, he took a quarter step backward. "Beverly, I know you don't remember me just now. My name is Jean-Luc." He paused, hoping for some sign of recognition, but she wouldn't even look at him. "I want you to understand that you are safe here. We are all your friends. We will not allow further harm to come to you. You are safe now, Beverly."

"Don't call me that," she murmured. Others had called her that, and it was more unnerving than not knowing where she was.

He frowned then quickly relaxed his features so as not to frighten her more. "Beverly - "

"Don't call me that!" She slid off the biobed, backing away from him as he reached out to her. The voice that had been little more than a whisper grew in volume and intensity. "Don't ever call me that! I'm not Beverly! I don't know who she is. I don't want to know. I'm not Beverly! I don't want to be Beverly!" She turned and ran, her only thought - her only need - to escape, to be away from him, this place, everything.

She ran blindly for the door, and as it slid open, she plowed into Will Riker. He caught her, holding on instinctively as she scratched and clawed in an attempt to break free, her screams filling the air. Dr. Selar rushed up with a sedative, and once again, Riker laid the unconscious woman on the nearest biobed.

This was not a habit he wanted to continue.

-tbc-