Chapter 9
Admiral Janeway's face was grim, upon hearing the news of the Titan. The usual inquiry would follow, she confirmed. However, she was willing to put Captain Riker on detached duty until such time as the Starfleet bureaucracy could move its many-cogged wheels. She assigned him as a consultant to the Enterprise.
"And if I could make one more request, Admiral," began Picard. Janeway waved her hand.
"Yes, yes. You can have Lt. Commander Crusher too. Anyone else I can get for you? Barclay? Ro Laren? How about Q himself, although I haven't heard much from him since he became a father."
Picard winced. Her pointed humor warned him he was close to pushing her too far.
"Lt. Commander Crusher will be sufficient, Admiral. Thank you."
Janeway's face leaned toward the screen.
"I don't have to tell you, Jean Luc. If this threat turns out to be real, it could be a blow to the Federation. We've only just begun to rebuild our credibility since the war. If we can't keep a long-time member like Betazed from falling into the hands of racist fanaticals, I can't begin to imagine the repercussions. Find out about these jzatar. Find out where they got their cloak…and that damnable harmonic shield inhibitor. Figure out where their power base is…these little cults don't just suddenly over-night come up with the resources to enable them destroy a Federation starship."
"I believe our search will begin in the Badlands, Admiral," Picard told her.
He thought he saw Janeway's face turn several shades paler.
"That's a dangerous place, Jean Luc. Watch your back. And your fore and aft. Even though the Array is destroyed, I wouldn't want to try to reach you in the Delta Quadrant for our next chat."
Jean Luc got her meaning all too well.
"Understood, Admiral," he replied. He expected to see the screen fade to the Starfleet insignia, but it appeared the admiral was not yet finished.
"By the way, Jean Luc…are congratulations in order or did things not go as planned?"
Picard sighed. It was difficult to remember that mere hours ago he and Beverly had had their simple wedding.
"We managed to get things accomplished just before all hell broke loose. However, let us just say, it was not quite by the book."
Janeway threw him a twisted smile.
"With your crew, Jean Luc, what is? And so the Badlands for a honeymoon. You do get to go to all the interesting places. Good luck, Captain. On all fronts."
"Thank you Admiral. Picard out."
As Picard sat back in his chair, contemplating his conversation with Janeway, the door to his quarters hissed open. It startled him a little. He was still not used to having someone come in unannounced. Even when that someone was Beverly.
She tossed a padd on the table and sank into the sofa, her head leaning back, and sighed.
"Quite a day," he said quietly. Beverly shut her eyes and shook her head. He realized she looked as exhausted as he felt. Dark circles had appeared beneath her eyes and her typically clean lab coat was as stained and ruined as the wedding dress it covered.
"How can you have a day you want to remember and forget at the same time," she asked ruefully. Jean Luc had no answer to give her. He had been musing on the same thing just before his conversation with Admiral Janeway and had come to no resolution on the matter. All he knew was that the happiest day of his life would always be wedded to one of the saddest.
"Have things quieted down in sickbay?" he asked instead.
"We're down to a about a dozen casualties from the Titan," Beverly replied. "But the staff is tripping over itself. I don't know what kind of scheduling Dr. Kranston came up with, but it sure doesn't make any sense to me. I've got to sit down and re-do the entire shift rotation before oh-six hundred tomorrow, or blood will be shed."
Jean Luc stood up and requested a cup of raktajino from the replicator and brought it to her. Taking it gratefully she sipped it as he leaned against a nearby chair and crossed his arms.
"Janeway's approved our request to investigate the jzatar incident. She's assigned Riker to the Enterprise as a consultant. We'll drop the Titan crew off at Starbase 209 and then proceed immediately to the Badlands."
Beverly looked up at him expectantly.
"And she approved Wesley staying on the Enterprise as well," he added, sipping his own cup of tea.
A smile spread across Beverly's tired face.
"Thank you for requesting him."
"My pleasure."
Jean Luc slipped onto the sofa next to her and she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed.
"I think I'm starting to become empathic," she told him.
"How so?" he asked, discovering he enjoyed the warmth of her next to him and the weight of her head on his shoulder. Jean Luc had never considered himself a man who needed a great deal of physical contact, but her close presence was quite soothing.
"I think I know how Deanna and Will felt when we whisked them off to Romulus after their wedding instead of letting them go on their honeymoon to the Opal Sea."
"Hmm," agreed Jean Luc. "I felt bad for them, then. I feel worse for us now." He slipped his arm around her.
"May I ask you something," she said quietly.
"Go ahead," he replied. His eyes were closed and for the first time today, he was beginning to allow the fatigue to set in.
"When you saw Kestra Riker for the first time…what were you thinking?"
Jean Luc's eyes opened. He felt himself tense involuntarily. The memory returned in an instant. It was almost too private to share, but he realized that Beverly had suspected there was more to it than just courtesy admiration of Will Riker's new daughter. She deserved an answer.
"I remembered…," he began hesitantly. How to describe it? A memory of something that didn't really happen, yet felt, in his heart, as intensely as if it had? "I remembered when I lived the life of Kamin…and my daughter Maribor was born. I was terrified I would drop her at her naming ceremony."
Beverly was silent for a moment.
"I never knew Kamin had a daughter," she finally said, her voice even quieter. Jean Luc realized he had never spoken much of the life he experienced while connected to the Kataan probe. Not to Beverly; not even to Deanna. It had been…too personal.
"Yes. And a son too. Batai. He was named after a dear friend who died too young.
I…he…Kamin, that is…even had a grandson. Maribor's little boy…Kami."
"Tell me about…your wife," Beverly asked, when Jean Luc had gone silent. "What was she like?"
"Beverly…," he protested. "It wasn't real…I never actually…."
She raised her head off his shoulder and looked at him. He wasn't sure what he expected to see in her eyes, but what was there was neither jealousy nor anger.
"But you did. I know, Jean Luc, that those memories are just as real to you as any that you've physically lived through. I just want to understand them better…because I know they affected you deeply. You were changed in some profound way by that experience. After that…you were different."
Jean Luc considered this for a moment.
"You're right…I was. I never liked to talk about it. Not even to Deanna. It was somehow…too personal. But it made me realize things about myself that I'd never acknowledged before. I stopped for a while and took stock of my life, and I came to understand truly what I had given up to be where I was."
They sat there silent for a moment. Finally he knew he had to continue.
"Eline was beautiful. And kind. And infinitely patient with me. She waited years until I finally put the idea of a starship behind me and accepted my life as Kamin. She waited years more before I agreed to build a nursery. And she waited years after that while I tramped around the hills collecting soil samples, trying to figure out why the planet was dying, letting her dinners get cold…. When she died…."
He felt Beverly tense.
"When she died," he repeated. "I felt such a loss…such grief. The kind of grief I had never allowed Jean Luc Picard to feel. And yet, as painful as it was…I would not have wished it otherwise. It was pain born out of having loved, and having been loved. And I would not have missed having that love for anything."
"Do you think of her often?" wondered Beverly.
"Beverly, I…."
She faced him again.
"I'm not jealous, Jean Luc. Really," Beverly said with all sincerity. "I just wondered…."
Jean Luc thought about this.
"To be truthful…not really. Eline was Kamin's wife. Maribor and Batai were Kamin's children. Part of Kamin will always be with me, but that life only made me realize how much more there was in this life to live."
She stroked his tired face as if she realized what it had taken for him to tell her about Kamin and his family.
"Is that why you asked me to marry you?" she asked him.
His response was swift.
"I asked you to marry me because I love you. And I wish to spend the rest of my life with you."
Beverly smiled wearily.
"The Jean Luc I knew 30 years ago would never have said that…never even have thought it."
"Well, thank goodness we're capable of changing," he told her, bringing her closer to him. In her presence the agony of the day was slipping away.
"What other changes would Jean Luc Picard like to make in his life?" Her voice sounded uncharacteristically unsure. Jean Luc looked at her curiously.
"Whatever do you mean by that?"
Her blue eyes bored into him.
"I mean…you seemed rather taken with little Kestra Riker…and I wondered if…."
It took a few moments for Jean Luc to register what Beverly was saying.
"What? You mean…have a child? Is that…well, possible?"
Beverly looked at him meaningfully.
"Let's just say, our time with the B'aku had longer lasting effects on some of us than on others."
Jean Luc knew he looked stunned. At this point in his life…fatherhood?
"I had never considered…I had just assumed…."
"We don't have to make any decisions now," Beverly told him quickly. "It's just that…well, I thought it was something we needed to discuss."
Jean Luc's mind raced. Not even the jzatar had caught him as off-guard as this.
"You've already raised a child," he said finally. "Is this something you'd want to do again?"
Beverly looked guilty.
"Well, I have to confess, when I held Kestra today, it stirred some feelings in me that I thought had retired years ago. Not that I'm all baby-struck—there's more to it than just sweet little fingers and toes. The months…no, make that years…without a good night sleep…the terrible twos…and threes…and sometimes fours…toilet training…reading the same story 500 nights in a row…. And of course, the knowledge that there's some piece of your heart that's wandering around outside of your body that you can never, ever completely protect, in spite of all the care and love and training you give."
Jean Luc smiled. The idea was settling with him now. He had a brief vision of himself holding a small child's hand, watching the stars slipstream by. But Beverly was right. The decision was monumental. And it didn't need to be made right now.
"Let's just get through this crisis, shall we, and then see what the future holds," he told her finally.
Beverly reached up and kissed him.
"That works for me."
"Sickbay to Dr. Crusher." The disembodied voice delved deep into her sleep and dragged her to consciousness. Why was Starfleet Medical paging her at this time of night?
A heartbeat later her memory also awakened.
"Crusher here," she stammered, reaching for the light at the side of the bed. It came on dimly.
"Doctor…you left instructions to be advised when Counselor Troi woke up," the unknown technician informed her.
"I'll be right there," Beverly replied wearily. It seemed as if she had just fallen asleep. Checking the chrono, she realized she had. It was, after all, her wedding night. With a sigh she slipped out from under Jean Luc's arm and reached for her robe. Years of captaincy brought him awake promptly.
"What is it?" he asked, looking more alert than she felt.
"Deanna's awake," she told him, pulling a clean uniform out of the drawer and putting it on. Seeing her blood-stained dress from the day before discarded on the floor, she picked it up and placed it in the recycler. It was not a memento of the day she wished to keep.
"I'm coming too," Picard said, reaching for his own uniform.
Beverly pulled on her boots and nodded.
"Fine. But give me a few moments alone with her first. This isn't going to be easy," Beverly cautioned him. She slipped on her com badge and hurried out the door.
Deanna's room was dimly lit when Beverly arrived. Will was still sleeping on the cot they had found for him when he had refused to return to his assigned quarters. Deanna sat up in bed, looking pale but beautiful as she gazed at the sleeping baby in her arms. In spite of every thing, Beverly smiled upon seeing her. At least one thing was right in the universe at the moment.
The women spoke in low voices so as not to wake Will.
"How do you feel?" Beverly asked, looking at the padd the nurse had handed her before she entered.
"Wonderful," Deanna said, with shining eyes, which then clouded over with a troubled look. "And horrible. I know what happened."
"What do you mean?" replied Beverly, trying to sound casual, not sure if Deanna really knew the full extent of what had happened, or was just responding to the loss of the Titan.
"I'm the reason they destroyed the Titan. I'm the reason," she choked back a quiet sob, "we lost so many crew."
Beverly placed her hand on her friend's arm to soothe her.
"Deanna…"
"You don't understand, Beverly! I felt them…I felt their anger and their hatred. And it was all focused on me! They came after me…and they were willing to destroy the Titan just to destroy me!"
"How do you know this?" asked Picard, who had come quietly into the room behind Beverly.
"When I started to go into labor," Deanna explained. "The physical demands on my body required all my concentration. I couldn't block out the external emotions any more, and when I dropped my guard…that's when I felt them. They were telepathic… they had to be…for me to feel such…hatred…so strongly."
Picard was nodding..
"We believe they are a Betazoid cult…some type of splinter group…called the jzatar."
"The jzatar?" repeated Deanna, perplexed. "I've heard of them. But they were never what you'd consider dangerous. And certainly not powerful."
"Well, obviously something has changed that. Data has pulled what little information on them is in the Starfleet database, but frankly there isn't much. We were hoping you could tell us more."
Deanna was shaking her head.
"The person to ask would be my mother," she told him.
"We haven't been able to locate Lwaxana," Beverly said, with a concerned eye toward Picard.
"Your mother sent you a message which you received yesterday morning," Picard reminded Deanna.
"I remember. We were in a hurry for the wedding. I sent it to my personal mailbox and thought I'd read it later."
"We had it retransmitted from the last subspace relay station. With Will's permission we listened to it. Apparently your mother has been in hiding from this same group for several months. She only risked sending the message because she feared that you may become a target as well. She wanted to warn you to be careful."
Deanna closed her eyes and fought back her emotions.
"I should have known something was wrong. It would have taken something like this to keep Mother from hovering over me these past months." She looked affectionately at Will, still sleeping. "I thought perhaps Will had made some kind of bargain with her, to keep her out of my hair for a while," she said ruefully.
"Your mother was deliberately vague in her message," Picard continued. "It was obvious she feared the communiqué might be intercepted. Do you have any idea why the jzatar would want to harm you and Kestra?"
Deanna's eyes widened and Beverly saw her muscles instinctively tighten around the sleeping child. Kestra's eyes flew open, but she only looked at her mother, not making a sound.
"What do you mean, harm Kestra?" Deanna demanded.
Beverly shot Picard a glare.
"They were after you, Deanna. You and Kestra." Riker's voice, husky with sleep caused everyone to turn. Will, eyes darkened by strain, hair mussed, still in the torn, smoky remnants his formal uniform, came toward them from the darkness around the edge of the room.
"Why?" Deanna's voice was louder now, and with a tinge of panic. "What do they want with Kestra?"
Riker, Picard and Beverly all exchanged glances.
"Will…" Deanna pleaded.
Picard found his voice could be the most even.
"Deanna…as best we understand the jzatar, they desire to 'purify' the Betazoid race by…eliminating anyone who isn't genetically, fully Betazoid. Because you're half Betazoid, and Kestra is one quarter…" he let his voice drift off, knowing she was capable of supplying the rest.
Abject horror spread over Deanna's face. She looked pleadingly up at Will.
"I swear, Deanna," he promised. "I won't let anyone harm either of you."
As much as Deanna looked as though she wanted to believe him, she'd been too long in space to know that such a promise could not be kept.
"Will…they took out an entire ship…your ship…just to get to me! I know these kinds of people…they're fanaticals. Nothing…and no one can stop them. They'll hunt us down, no matter where we hide!" Her voice was tinged with panic.
Picard looked grim.
"Not if we hunt them first," he told her. He looked up at Riker.
"As soon as we drop the Titan crew off at Starbase 209, you are on detached duty to the Enterprise. There's more to this than just an attempt on Deanna's life. Admiral Janeway feels that the whole future of Betazed could be at stake. We have to follow this attack back to its source and find out who is behind this and why."
"I thought the why was pretty clear," Beverly interjected. But Picard shook his head.
"Fringe groups like this rarely have an impact on this scale, unless someone or something more powerful has injected a great deal of resources into them. Deanna…what precisely can you tell me about the Sacred Chalice of Rixx?"
Deanna looked startled.
"The Sacred Chalice of Rixx? Nothing much—it's just a moldy old clay pot with moss growing in it."
"Have you ever seen it?" Picard asked.
Deanna nodded.
"All my life. Mother used to display it on a pedestal surrounded by a force field, so it wouldn't get knocked over and break. Once a year she would bring it out for the Festival of Joining and I'd get to hold it. But the rest of the time…"
She stopped talking, as if her thoughts had dragged her into themselves.
"Deanna? What is it?" Will asked with concern.
"The Chalice, Will! It should have been used at our wedding on Betazed. Once a Betazoid woman is married, she is passed the Chalice and becomes it's holder. I completely forgot about it…Mother never even mentioned it."
"That's hard to believe…your mother's so…fond…of tradition," Riker said.
"What's more," Deanna continued, looking around to all three of them. "I don't even remember seeing it. Of course everything was rather…hurried, since we arrived later than anticipated…so maybe it was taken somewhere, with the intention of it being used at the ceremony but just forgotten. But I know it wasn't where it always has been, on that pedestal, surrounded by that force field. I'm sure of it," she added, as if the other's were about to ask of her certainty.
"Well," said Picard, tugging at his uniform. "Questions regarding the Chalice will have to wait until we locate the person best suited to answer them. We will do everything possible to locate your mother, Deanna. I believe she holds the key to this. But first we have to find out more about our enemy and their technology."
"We're going to the Badlands?" asked Riker, cautiously. Picard gave him a rueful glance.
"I'm afraid so, Will. At the moment, it's the only clue we have." Picard sighed, recalling his last foray into that tempest of anomalous space. He hated the thought of taking the Enterprise and his crew in there. At best they might be rendered space junk by its volatile plasma storms. At worst they could face the same fate as Voyager and spend the next seventy years trekking home from the Delta Quadrant. Voyager may have destroyed the Array, but who knew what other alien gateways might be hidden in such a maelstrom.
He looked at the three faces watching him in the dim light of the recovery room and thought of what Admiral Janeway had said to him. These people were his family. The Enterprise was his home. He could understand why Kathryn Janeway had voiced the wistful fantasy of having remained in the Delta Quadrant. When all was said and done, there were probably worse fates. He just hoped he wasn't about to steer the Enterprise into one.