Chapter 9
2340 Starfleet Medical ICU
"Is he stable?" The voice asked.
"Yes, and he is recovering nicely," said another voice.
"Good" said the first voice, which was now distinctly female and somewhat familiar. "Continue bringing him out of sedation then. A few torn knee ligaments and temporary blindness seem a reasonable price to pay, for such a great accomplishment," she added, now sounding much louder to him. Were they talking about him? Yes, he must be in the hospital. He had survived the attack, and now they were describing his injuries as survivable. His eyes burned and his right knee throbbed.
"Chancellor, the burns to his eyes were quite serious," said the second voice disapprovingly. "Although temporary as you pointed out."
He felt his head clear a bit, but he still could not see. There was some kind of bandage over his eyes. He reached up and touched it gingerly. "Careful," warned the doctor, and he felt a gentle hand reach out to prevent him from causing himself damage.
Chancellor Villatoro leaned over him. "Jean-Luc, we have you to thank for delivering us a most remarkable individual," she said.
"Chancellor, is this the same remarkable individual who murdered Parvati Singh?" Picard asked hoarsely.
There was a pause. "Yes," said the Chancellor.
"You knew, didn't you?" he asked, feeling a growing outrage. "You knew who…or what the killer was."
"We knew it wasn't poor Allen Harrow," said the Chancellor.
"But he is involved somehow, isn't he?" Picard questioned. "I don't trust him," he said angrily.
He felt the Chancellor touch his wrist. "Jean-Luc, don't upset yourself. You need to rest…perhaps a sedative," she said, and he felt her step away.
"No, wait…" said Jean-Luc, as he heard the hiss of the hypo spray and felt his head slump forward and sleep take him again.
Late 2354
"Have you heard from him, Walker?" She tried not to sound too needy or even hopeful. Why should she, after all? Why did she feel she needed to talk with him? Was it just another way to connect to Jack, who had been dead nearly a year now? "It's been eight months…since I've spoken to him," she added and knew that despite her attempts to hide it, her old friend could tell she was hurting; even through the barrier of a view screen.
She had even written to him, but he'd never responded. Well once he had responded to say he was heading for a deep space mission and would be out of touch. Besides, when had he not been out of touch? It had been an excuse, they had both known. It was an excuse for him not to have to talk to her on anything more than a superficial level. And she had gone along with it, because she had been lonely at the time even for mindless conversation.
The Stargazer was his life, and she shouldn't be surprised; no she was never surprised, that there was apparently no room for her friendship. But she was angry at herself for caring.
"No, I haven't heard from him, Bev," said Walker sympathetically. "But you know Jean-Luc; not the best at keeping in touch. My guess is he is not even within subspace communication range right now anyway."
She had nodded, but realized at that moment that perhaps she really did not know Jean-Luc. And now that Jack was dead, and there was nothing to connect the two of them, perhaps she would never know him. "Of course. Look Walker, best of luck on Relva Four. I will see you in a few months?"
"Bet on it," he had said. "We're going to get this new Academy testing facility up and running very soon. Love you," he said, signing off.
"Love you too," she said with a smile. When she had turned off the viewer she had considered writing to Jean-Luc again, giving him some kind of ultimatum if he continued to refuse to contact her, confessing her own desires...just letting everything out. But instead, she had made the odd decision to call Allen. She hadn't seen him in a few months, but he had been so kind to her last time, in a kind of distant way. She knew that he and Jack had been friends years ago, from the Academy days. Somehow he was familiar enough, but not as familiar as Picard, and so somehow it seemed alright. As guilty as she felt, she knew she needed companionship and affection. Yes, she had decided, she would contact Allen. And that was how it had started with him.
2366 Enterprise
Picard and Riker sat side by side wearing cold weather parkas. The environmental controls had been compromised to the extent that the temperature had now dropped to uncomfortable levels. Elsewhere on the ship, in particular the family quarters, the oxygen levels and the heating systems had been boosted where possible, in order to enhance the comfort level a bit, but the unspoken fear was setting in that they would not get out of this predicament alive.
Picard sat in frustration thinking as puffs of his breath now froze with each exhalation. A few minutes earlier, Data had called in for a report, explaining that they were no closer to getting the propulsion systems going. In fact it appeared the situation was getting worse.
"Troi to Captain Picard," drifted counselor Troi's calm voice through the chilly air.
"Go ahead, Counselor," he replied.
"Captain, I am in the main conference room with Doctor Harrow, and he would like to speak with you. He says it is very important."
Picard frowned and looked over at Riker. "Thank you, Counselor, I'm on my way."
Pulling a winter hat down over his ears, he walked quickly to the conference room and entered. Harrow and Troi sat side by side at the table. They too were bundled up to stave off the cold.
Harrow once again appeared afraid, but of what, Picard could not tell. He smiled slightly, as it occurred to him that Troi looked almost protective sitting there at his side. Was Allen painting him to be the villain? How interesting.
He stood in front of them with an impatient expression. "Yes?"
Troi glanced at Harrow as though they had planned for him to do the talking, and he was not following through with the plan. Finally, Harrow seemed to get the idea.
"Captain, we are in grave danger," he said.
Picard folded his arms over his chest and glanced up at the ceiling then back at Harrow. "Doctor Harrow…if you have called me in to state the obvious, I am well aware of the dilemma we are in. We are stuck in a remote section of space in an area known for trapping ships, and we are indeed trapped. Every second I stand here talking to you—"
"The more your time is wasted, Captain?" finished Harrow. "Well, I won't waste your time then, Captain Picard. If we don't get out of here soon, we will be killed, and not by freezing to death."
Picard glared at him waiting for additional details. Troi looked at Harrow again. "Tell him, Allen."
Harrow took a deep breath. "Beverly's at risk. Possibly more than anyone else on this ship."
Picard walked forward. "What do you mean she's at risk?" demanded Picard. Harrow was silent. "Well, you can't just make a statement like that without explanation now can you, Harrow? Why is she in danger?"
Troi shook her head. "He won't tell us the source of the danger, Captain. But he is telling the truth about the gravity of the situation."
Picard put his hands flat on the table. "And you won't tell me why we are facing this unknown danger? If you care about Beverly, you will damn well tell me now," he thundered.
Allen's lips trembled. "We've got to get out of here before we all die, Picard. Just get us out of here!" He stood up and grabbed Picard by the collar of his jacket and shook him. Picard batted his hands away. Giving Allen a disgusted look he turned around and stalked out of the conference room.
As Picard strode back on to the bridge, things seemed to suddenly begin to unravel.
"The environmental controls continue to go haywire Captain," said the replacement officer at ops. "It's raining on decks 13 through 18."
"Get it under control, Lieutenant," he snapped.
"Trying sir, but it's not working," said the young man, tapping at the controls in frustration.
"Try harder Rodriguez," said Picard, walking away. "It does not rain on my ship," he declared.
"Aye sir."
Suddenly the deck shook underneath their feet. Picard turned around and walked quickly back to ops, leaning on the back of Rodriguez' seat. "What was that?"
"Captain," said Worf. We have taken damage on decks 21 and 23."
"From what?" demanded Riker.
"Unknown, Captain," said Worf. "We are experiencing some kind of energy pulse. An invisible weapon," he said.
"Red alert!" Picard shouted, walking back up toward Lieutenant Worf.
"Let's get a visual, if we can," ordered Riker.
Worf tried but with no results. "The sensors show nothing sir, until the energy pulse is already upon us." He staggered as a stronger burst shook the ship.
"It's getting worse," warned Riker. "Our shields are already powered down as it is."
"Are the bursts focused on one section of the ship?" asked Picard.
Worf shook his head. "No, sir. Despite the power of the beam hitting us, it seems more like a probe. As if someone is searching for something," he said.
"Can we determine the vector from which it is being fired?" asked the Captain.
Worf's fingers flew over the controls, catching the Captain's meaning. "I can estimate, sir, but we will have to wait for the next pulse."
Picard nodded and moved to sit down. "As soon as we are fired on, fire a spread of photon torpedoes." Worf nodded and when the next energy pulse came, he fired, but the strike this time seemed more powerful even than before.
"Hull breach on Deck 12!" shouted Worf. "Casualties reported sir."
Picard stood up quickly. Deck 12…Beverly. "Begin evacuation from Deck 12 immediately," he barked, his voice not betraying any of his innermost fears.
"The hull breach has been repaired, Captain," said Riker from a science station. "But no telling how long we can hold the shield patch in the condition we're in, sir."
A few minutes later….
"Captain, the attacks have stopped for now," reported Worf.
"Continue evacuations from Deck 12, and evacuate Decks 11 and 13 just to be sure," ordered Picard.
"Main Sickbay is still showing personnel present, Captain," reported Worf.
Damn it, Beverly, Picard thought. He hesitated and then walked up the ramp toward the turbo lift. "I'm going down to main sick bay," he announced, and stepped into the lift before Riker could object.
"This area has been evacuated, Doctor Crusher," announced Picard as he walked in to the main sick bay carrying a spare parka and hat.
Crusher barely glanced up. "I know, Captain. But as you can see, I am treating an injured crewman. I am almost done," she reassured him.
Picard stood expectantly, holding the jacket in his arms.
"Why aren't you wearing one of the jackets we issued, Doctor?"
"It's difficult for me to treat my patients wearing such bulky clothing, Captain," she said simply.
Picard nodded. "As always, Doctor I applaud your adherence to duty. However it does your patients little good, if you become hypothermic while trying to care for them. And it would upset me greatly to see you fall ill. I need you healthy, Doctor."
"Why Captain, that's very thoughtful of you to say," Beverly said sharing a surprised and slightly amused look with her patient, who smiled back nervously.
"You're all set, Jeff," she said patting the crewman's ankle. Be careful out there." The young man nodded with a smile and slid off of the table, testing out his leg and nodding at Captain Picard respectfully before hurrying out of sick bay.
Picard followed Beverly, as she packed away her tools, feeling the need to explain himself. "Doctor, when I said your falling ill would upset me, I only meant..."
"Oh, Captain, think nothing of it. Of course I know you meant nothing personal by it," she said sweetly.
Picard blushed slightly and leaned on an empty examination bed. "Well, perhaps I did..."
She glanced at him sideways, packing something into her med kit. "Did what?" She prompted, as the case clicked shut.
Picard looked as though he were steeling himself for the most important speech of his life. "Perhaps I did mean to say something personal. Sometimes I have some difficulty expressing my emotions, Doctor."
"Yes...I had noticed that," she said quietly.
"But that doesn't mean that I don't have them." He saw her grow still as she watched him curiously. "Emotions, that is. I have emotions," he added awkwardly.
She turned to face Picard, holding her med kit. "I know you do, Jean-Luc," she said quietly. "Look, it was good of you to come looking for me, Captain. It's not like you to leave the bridge in times of trouble."
He didn't want to tell her what Harrow had said. The thought of her being specifically targeted frightened him, for he already felt helpless to save his crew. He held out the coat for her. "It's freezing out in the corridor. You're going to need this."
She smiled. "Thank you," she said, taking the jacket carefully. He took her med kit as she put it on.
They stepped out into the hallway and nearly fell forward. Beverly put a hand on his arm. The deck, walls and even ceiling were covered in sheets of ice. "When you said it was freezing I thought you were exaggerating. Apparently you were actually understating things a bit, Captain. How are we going to get down this hall?"
Picard sucked in a breath. "Very carefully," he said, and taking her hand he began to slide forward testing his footing on the ice. She followed behind him and then they walked carefully side by side, and for a few silently amusing moments it felt as though they were children skating hand in hand. But just for a few moments, until they realized that the door of the turbo lift at the end of the hallway was frozen shut.
"Shit," breathed Crusher, annoyed.
Picard nodded his head toward the wall. "Jeffries tube," he said. "We've got to get back up to a safe area. The temporary patch over the hull won't hold much longer."
The hatch to the tube was iced over, but between the two of them they knocked off the ice and cracked it open. Picard slid into the Jeffries tube and then reached back out for Beverly. "Come on," he urged her. She made a face, but then grabbed his hands and she climbed in beside him. He shut the hatch with a clang. Thankfully, there was no ice inside the tube, but it was still frigid.
Crusher shivered, looking at him in the dim light. "Now what?"
"Now…we climb," he said simply, and crawled on his hands and knees to a utility ladder. He stood up and looked back at Crusher. She hesitated. She hated heights and small spaces. At that moment, she wasn't sure it mattered which she hated more because she had to face them both at once. Sighing, she crawled over to Picard and then stood up next to him. Too close, she thought and backed up slightly. He blinked slightly at her. Was that his way of showing her he was offended? Hmm.
"Riker to Captain Picard."
Picard tapped his communicator, glad in a way to be spared from awkward silence and the even more awkward closeness of Crusher. "Yes, go ahead."
"Sir, you've got to get back up here. There's…." Riker trailed off.
"What is it?" snapped Picard, pulling his hat down over his ears. Beverly looked at him with growing amusement and then looked down at her feet to keep from laughing.
"Sir, it's a ship. And it matches the description of the science vessel Dr. Harrow claimed was destroyed."
