Chapter 1

2367 Distress Call

Doctor Beverly Crusher wiped the back of her wrist across her sweaty brow. Her fine features were strained from the heat of the tropical jungle she and the rest of the away team had beamed into. She would feel the familiar creep of fatigue later on, long after she had returned to the ship. For now she was all business. She crouched down next to the limp and twisted body of a humanoid being, who was covered in drying dark purple blood. She shook her head. The level of carnage was shocking, and she would never grow accustomed to senseless violence. She checked her readings. The species of the deceased was not obvious, yet the uniform was quite familiar.

"This was a science team, and virtually unarmed," Riker muttered from nearby. "Only a few phasers for less than a dozen officers. No effort on the part of Starfleet to provide adequate protection for these scientists, or for that matter their work. Why attack them?"

No answer available, she touched the frayed blue and black sleeve of the former Starfleet scientist. "No survivors," she thought numbly as she scanned slowly over the body with the medical tricorder. "No work for me to do here, except account for the dead and take some readings." She didn't want to look up at Riker. But she knew for a fact that he was waiting for her report. Finally she snapped the tricorder shut and looked up at him. "All dead," she said curtly, pushing herself up from the ground.

"I see that," said Riker, squinting into the sun which was beginning to set in the distance. He ignored the bile threatening to rise in his throat. He would need more than a report to understand what had occurred here. He glanced at Beverly, who stood still next to him, oblivious to the fact she was covered in mud. Not for the first time, he found himself impressed by how composed Crusher was under pressure. He hadn't seen her in a several days because of what he understood to be some extreme and sudden events having taken place in her personal life. He knew only because she had mentioned to him that she was now caring for a baby. He had been so shocked that he hadn't been able to respond in any intelligent way, which is probably what she had intended to happen. When she decided she wanted to discuss it further, he knew she would eventually confide in him.

But when she had arrived in the transporter room for the away team, she was so calm, so typically her that he had fallen into the old routine. But in truth nothing was routine after Wolf 359, and the Borg. An insistent distress call had led them to this tiny tropical moon near Klingon territory. For both of them it had been an unspoken relief to be away from the Enterprise for an hour or so, and the general feeling of depression that currently enveloped the crew-at least it had been a relief until now. Riker waved at Worf who was approaching at a jogging pace from some distance away. "Sir, the perimeter is secure, with no sign of the attackers," he said. "Whoever did this has vanished. And there are no shuttle craft or other vessels present."

"The science team's mission report indicated a Miranda class research vessel…the Nova was supposed to be orbit around this moon," Riker snapped. "So where the hell is it?" Just then his communicator beeped.

"Riker here," he said, tapping his insignia.

"Away team, this is Picard," came the familiar terse reply. "You are to beam up from the site immediately to transporter room three and undergo full bio-decontamination procedures. Counselor Troi will meet briefly with each of you prior to your return to duty."

"Sir there are no survivors…but we need to take care of the dead who are here—"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Commander. Prepare to beam up immediately. Picard out."

Riker shared a look with Doctor Crusher who was silent, but the defiant look in her eye spoke volumes. She was going to demand answers from the Captain eventually, and Riker could honestly say he would prefer to miss out on that conversation. He waved Worf's two security subordinates over. "Transporter Room three, this is the away team. Five to beam up."

45 minutes later…

"Number One, I've been given direct orders by Starfleet Command to exit the system. And that's what we're doing."

Riker turned to look at the Captain, who sat rigidly in his command chair, eyes forward. Riker knew that look, which he knew to mean that Picard was uninterested in small talk, or full conversation for that matter. And when the captain was in such a mood, even extracting a one word answer meant fighting a losing battle.

"Sir, with all due respect, we owed those officers a hell of a lot more than what we just gave them."

"A recovery ship is on its way to care for the dead, Commander. Once the bodies are retrieved, the site will be quarantined indefinitely." He allowed Riker a small glance, before turning his attention to some readouts on his arm rest.

The flatness of Picard's tone cooled something in Riker, a part of him that had not forgotten coming face to face with Locutus. But he's not Locutus anymore. He's back now. He took a quick breath. "Any information on the missing ship, sir?"

Picard shook his head almost imperceptibly. "No. The research vessel Nova has disappeared without a trace, along with its temporary crew complement of three. But it seems, Number One, that as far as Command is concerned, we are not to be in the know, so to speak," he said finally allowing a wan smile, which unsuccessfully masked his irritation with his superiors. He seemed about to add something else, when the turbo lift opened in back of them and Counselor Troi entered the bridge.

Picard sighed and lowered his forehead into his hand for a moment. Ah yes, the weekly counseling session…how could I forget? He turned to glare at Troi, who was standing patiently in front of his ready room with her hands clasped in front of her.

Riker tried not to smile with sympathy at the pained look on Picard's face. This had become routine in the weeks since his return from the Borg. It was Troi's job of course to continue to monitor the Captain's progress and his fitness for duty. Riker was certain that Picard understood that Troi was simply attempting to carry out her duties; however that didn't mean he had any intention of making things easy for her.

"As I just explained, Counselor, there is absolutely nothing to discuss. I don't know anything about this child!" Aside from the fact that the Traveler dropped her off a few nights ago without explanation.

"Forgive me, Captain, but didn't the results of the genetic tests come back yesterday, confirming that you and Beverly are the biological parents of the baby?"

He glared up at the ceiling and then back down at Troi. "Yes."

"And so there is something to discuss, Captain...your feelings on the matter."

Captain Picard sighed and placed a hand on his forehead, before dropping it to the table. "I'm sorry Counselor, but the only real feeling I have on the matter is one of complete confusion. I don't understand why this has happened, and I have no idea what I am expected to do going forward."

"Well that's a start," she acknowledged with an approving smile. "Have you talked with Beverly about your feelings?"

He shook his head. "No, it only happened just two days ago. There hasn't been time." He cleared his throat. "Besides...I don't think she's very pleased with my initial reaction to the situation."

Troi leaned forward. He is so right about that. "What makes you think so?"

Picard leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes momentarily, tapping his index finger on the tabletop. How long can I reasonably stall? How many minutes left in this session? Then something occurred to him and his eyes snapped open, just as the communication signal chimed.

"Crusher to Captain Picard."

Oh no. I missed that damned appointment. Picard sat forward dropping his forehead into the palm of his hand. He didn't even try to hide his weary expression from Troi. "Picard here...go ahead Doctor."

"I'd like to discuss the away team mission with you. I don't understand why you ordered us to beam up when you did. We have a duty to the families of those victims—"

"Doctor, I wholeheartedly agree…but I was under orders. If you'd like to see the full orders, of course I'll send them directly to your office, so that you can read them."

"Are you deliberately avoiding having any kind of direct discussion with me, Captain?"

He didn't appreciate the implication that he was hiding. But if it was possible to sound both indignant and guilty, he managed to. "Of course not, Doctor."

Troi looked at him pointedly with raised eyebrows. "I should go," she mouthed a silent suggestion.

Picard held up his hand. "No, no, counselor, you can stay," he said quickly, suddenly grateful for her presence.

Beverly paused. "Sorry to interrupt your meeting, Troi….Capain," she said picking up easily were she had left off, and then switching to an even more difficult subject. "Doctor Selar reported that you missed your physical therapy appointment this afternoon, while I was off ship," she said accusingly.

"I had an unexpected briefing with Starfleet Command," he said. "Besides, I am feeling fine today."

"The surgical scars from the Borg implants are still healing. Until they finish doing so, you'll continue to have the nerve pain. The physical therapy regimen is designed to aid your recovery. We've been over this many times," she said with clear frustration. "As Troi is well aware," she added pointedly.

"I feel fine," he repeated. "The pain is much less now. In fact I believe I can do all of the exercises on my own."

"I see...well, you seem to have your recovery all figured out, Captain... As to the…other matter between us, I am still waiting for you to make the time to discuss your daughter."

"Beverly, wait!" She'd already cut the connection, and he closed his eyes in frustration. Eventually he opened them and turned to Troi, holding up his empty hands.

"If I might make a suggestion, Captain..."

"Please."

"The only thing you can do right now to make this better is to be honest with Beverly about how you feel about this new and...I agree quite incredible development in your lives."

Picard stared at her. "Counselor, I'm not convinced that honesty is actually the best policy in this particular instance. But you are right. I do need to talk with her before this...situation with the baby becomes even more difficult."