A/N: Sorry this one took so long! It was a beast! I hope I do the finale of this universe justice. Heads up, there will be a brief epilogue. I'm going to post it right after this since I've already written it (just have to upload and all that).
Bnewall1-Yes! It was actually my way of showing that in Carmen's universe, their technology was stunted by the war. Course, I realize now that there would probably have to be changes like in the number of decks and whatnot. But I wanted to throw that in there since Leyton would be referencing scarce resources, and also because in the current timeline Carmen is repeatedly confused by the newer technology. I run every chapter by my husband, and he was like, "No one's going to get that." And I was like "DON'T YOU UNDERESTIMATE MY READERS!" So thank-you for proving him wrong haha :-D You are awesome!
JWood201-I really enjoyed your review! Ahh I'm excited that you've been enjoying it all so far, as dark and terrible as this timeline is lol. Also loved what you said about Beverly. It's true, I wanted to give her a bit of a spotlight in this one. Looking forward to hearing from you more!
Zara08-Your review made my day! Omg, thank you so much! I hope you keep liking it all, and I promise to keep writing! :-)
Will heaved himself into a chair at the little kitchen table. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, which had been rumpled from his attempt at sleep. Though silence filled his quarters, wrapping around him like a heavy blanket, echoes of a long-lost voice still bounded through his mind. He closed his eyes and remembered vividly the scent of her hair, the dimple on her chin when she laughed at him, the gentleness of her fingertips running beneath the sheets.
"I wish you were here, imzadi," he said in a grating whisper. His shoulders caved as he sank over the table, resting his forehead against its cool surface. "You'd know what to do."
It had been a year since Beverly was removed from the Enterprise. A year since the boy, Allan Sheppard, was marched off to one of Leyton's training camps. And since then, the council had only continued to take. Tomorrow, they would come for Data. "The entire history of our Federation is contained within that bionic mind of his. If Haven One is to be our future, then we will need the android as a living link to our past. We will need that cold, hard logic to steer us in the safest direction as mankind seeks to rebuild." Will scoffed aloud as he recalled the councilman's words. And what about the rest of them? Would they ever be deemed worthy enough to have a future? Will had chosen this life, chosen a future plagued with danger. But while he wore the marks of a commander, it was his daughter who wore the marks of war.
Deanna's hands reached into his mind again. He breathed in sharply. "I know you wanted better for her," he said. "But she...she's brave. Brave like you. And a pain in the neck like me." He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Serves me right. That's what you'd say, anyways. I just...I miss you. That's all. I miss you so much."
Will wept softly as memories continued to dance through his thoughts. He could see crystal clear water tumbling down a mountainside. He could see a canopy of stars shining back at him in the depths of Deanna's eyes. But that place had become a desert, the place where their souls used to touch. Only ghosts and shadows lived there now, haunting Will's sleep with all that he'd lost...
A pan rattled against the stovetop. Will jerked awake, blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes. He must have drifted off in the midst of his mourning.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up." Carmen sent him a sheepish grin. She stood before the stove with an enormous bowl tucked under one arm. Lumps of batter dripped from the edges of this bowl and stuck to the front of her pajamas.
"What are you doing?" Will asked, stifling a yawn. A blanket fell from his shoulders, landing in a crumpled pile on the kitchen floor.
"Making breakfast." Carmen dropped a glob of batter onto the pan and it began to sizzle furiously.
"Breakfast?" He glanced at the clock above the replicator. "At this hour? You should be in bed!"
"You should be in bed," she countered, setting the bowl down and wiping her hands on a nearby towel. Then she picked the blanket up off the floor and draped it across his shoulders.
"I'm fine," he insisted, shirking it off.
Carmen planted her hands on her hips. "You're exhausted. And probably starving. You-"
"Just pass me that bowl, would you? It looks like it needs more whisking."
The rest of Carmen's retort never made it past her lips. Happily, she cast off her defiance and handed him the bowl. "Hey, can you make your Jibalian scramble on the side?" she asked. "I always burn the eggs whenever I try."
"Sure. And I'll show you a little trick to keep them from burning…"
The pancakes turned out delicious. And not a single egg burned. After breakfast, the two played a Ferengi card game until it was time for Carmen's schooling. Will helped her get ready and then walked her to the wing of classrooms. He watched her raven-dark hair bounce with every step as she skipped to her seat. "Be good!" he called.
"Yeah, sure," she smirked, waving goodbye. He shook his head, grinning wryly, and disappeared from her frame of view.
It was the last time she would see her father alive.
"How's it looking out there?" Will asked as he arrived at the bridge. A handful of officers looked up from their posts, weary and ready for shift change.
"All quiet, sir," Ensign Baines reported from navigation. Will strode over to his console, scanning the readouts thoughtfully.
"And when do we rendezvous with the Jemison?" he asked, leaning over his propped up leg.
"Eleven hundred hours. We should be receiving updated coordinates from them soon." Will nodded, satisfied with the answer but not with the news. For the Jemison's arrival would signify Data's departure. "Sir-" Baines prompted. "Would you like me to notify the captain?"
"No," Will declined. "The captain is not to be disturbed. I'll notify him myself in a few hours." Walking over to his chair, Will pictured Data and Picard gallivanting through the holodeck on another Sherlock Holmes adventure. It had been Data's last request, and so of course the captain had indulged him. He would have indulged him anyways, Will knew. Picard held a certain, unspoken affinity for the android. He had come to rely on his sound logic in times of trouble. And teaching him the importance of things like gut feelings, loyalty, and compassion-things that have no sound logic-had left an undeniable imprint on them both. Data's absence would be another devastating blow to the Enterprise.
The beginning of Will's shift passed without incident. As eleven hundred hours crept closer, Picard finally made an appearance on the bridge. He stepped off the turbolift as though his feet were made of lead. "I'll...I'll be in my ready room," he announced. And nothing more.
Will exchanged a glance with Worf. "You have the bridge," he said quickly, quietly. Then he followed the captain to his ready room.
Once inside, he saw Picard standing in front of his desk, his back to the commander. He stared down at a book, its pages yellowed and beginning to curl. His fingers brushed over it fondly. "It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important," he mumbled. Then he turned his head to look at Will. "Beverly wrote that. Well, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle did first. But she wrote that on the inside of this book when she gave it to me. It was one of her favorite passages." He picked up the book, and Will could make out the title in faded gold letters. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
"This is what started it all," Picard continued. "This is the first book I loaned him. When he returned it to me afterwards, I was surprised by how many questions he had." He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "Strange that something made of dispassionate metal should possess such...curiosity."
Will smiled. "I know what you mean, sir. Sometimes, I'd swear he was more human than most of us."
Picard grunted in agreement. Then he set the book down again and lowered himself into the padded office chair. "They'll be here soon?"
"Yes, sir. Any minute."
"Well at least Beverly will have some familiar company." He put the book in a drawer, casting it one final, loving glance before closing it up out of sight. "She tried, you know."
Will's brow furrowed. "Tried what, sir?"
Picard's jaw worked for a minute before the answer came out. "I never told you this, but...she tried to convince the council to let Carmen come and live with her."
"Carmen?" Will repeated, stunned. "On Haven One?"
"I never told you, for fear that you might take it the wrong way. I know Carmen is all you have left, but I assure you, Beverly just wanted what was best for the girl." An apologetic smile flitted across his face. "She-"
"I know, sir." Will turned away. A stubborn lump formed in his throat, making it difficult to speak. "You don't have to explain. I only wish...I wish I could thank her. For a lot of things."
"Me, too," the captain admitted. His eyes faded into the distance. "...like breakfast."
Will's head jerked to the side."Breakfast, sir?"
"Beverly used to meet me for breakfast every morning," he explained. "It was a quiet tradition, a lovely tradition. But I never told her how much it meant to me. It was one of those little things, I suppose. One of those infinitely important things."
"Yes, sir." A wistful smile grew across Will's face. He felt a sense of solidarity in the captain's words, in the captain's regret. He knew that kind of ruefulness intimately.
"Captain, the Jemison has arrived." Baines announced, breaking the bittersweet lull in conversation.
Picard cleared his throat. "It is time."
The commander accompanied Picard on his way to the transport room. It was not often he got the chance to say goodbye. Still, he wasn't sure if he was ready or not.
The floor beneath them jolted suddenly. Both men pitched forward, sprawling out over the hallway. Klaxons sounded above with an urgent warning.
"Riker to Worf!" Will shouted, drawing his knees beneath him. "What's happening?"
"They came out of nowhere, sir! Waited until the shields were lowered for transport. They must have followed the Jemison-"
"Who?" Will cried.
"The Borg…" Picard gasped.
Will followed his horrified gaze to find a line of Borg drones marching towards them from the end of the hall. Mechanical appendages hung from their pallid bodies. Each moved in calculated precision, chanting the same death song that Will had heard a hundred times. "Resistance is futile...assimilate or perish...resistance is futile…"
"I'll hold them off!" Will shouted, moving between Picard and the drones. With one hand, he helped the captain to his feet. With the other, he brandished a modified phaser. "We have to get to the turbolift," he urged. Then he fired once. Twice. The foremost drone dropped to the ground. The one behind it stepped over the body without a glance back.
Both men backed down the hall, retreating the way they had come. The ship rocked beneath their feet in the throes of battle. "Shield are up again, sir," came Worf's voice. "Thanks to the Jemison. We're holding them off best we can, but they've boarded the ship-"
"Are they on the bridge?"
"Negative, sir. Where is the captain?"
"With me. I'm sending him up."
Will had reached the turbolift. By then, the drones had modified their shields to the frequency of his phaser, rendering it useless. He shoved the captain inside the turbolift, but did not follow. "Quickly! They're right behind!" Picard warned.
"I know, sir. I won't let them follow."
"But-Will!" He snatched at his first officer's arm, but Will had already retreated back into the hall. "WILL!"
The turbolift doors closed. "Worf-" Will turned his shoulders to face the onslaught of drones. "Seal off the turbolift as soon as Picard reaches the bridge."
"Aye aye, sir."
Will wiped his face with his shoulder, ridding himself of the sweat that had begun to gather. "I'm sorry, Carmen," he whispered. And then he plunged into the merciless tide of drones.
It felt like Will had been in that hallway for an eternity. Blood streamed down his face from a close call with one of the drones' bladed appendages. Four down. One to go. So long as the shields held, he stood a chance. He'd faced these kinds of odds before. A small flame of hope flickered in the back of his mind.
The ship around him quaked in a battle of its own. The final drone advanced. He slashed his blade in front of him, warding them back. But just then, the ground bucked. He slammed into the wall, smacking his head with a sound akin to a baseball being struck into the outfield. The blade dropped from his hand. Stars filled his vision. He staggered backwards, wondering if it was his balance or the ship that was making it hard to regain his footing.
An ice cold hand clutched his arm, clamping down with a vice-like grip. "No!" he snarled. The ship took another hit, and this time, both Will and the drone went sailing to the ground.
He kicked away from them, shooting his hands out to feel for the knife he had dropped. Run! The thought echoed inside of his head. But it was not his own. It came from the desert, from a forlorn and forgotten place in the hinterland of his mind. The vice-like grip had his leg now, and began dragging him back within reach.
He flipped over, kicking at the drone with his free leg. His foot lashed them across the face, and their grip released. Will coiled his legs beneath him, ready to strike again. But then he froze.
Slowly, the drone swivelled its head back towards the commander. Its eyes, sunken deep in its skull, met his gaze. Dark eyes. Betazoid eyes. I said run, imzadi!
The breath left his chest. His legs buckled beneath him. He slumped against the wall, unable to move. Deanna? he called out into the desert.
And she was there. He could feel her wounded presence, her bitter struggle. I cannot stop myself. You must run.
A spring of tears flowed from that barren place, collecting in the corners of his eyes and pouring down his cheeks. No. I can't say goodbye. Not to you. Tentatively, he reached out. A shudder seized him as he felt her skin beneath his hand, cold as a corpse. But he remembered the curve of that cheek. The slope of that chin.
Something fluttered faintly behind her eyes. Her lips parted as though to speak. And for a few fleeting moments, Will found himself back in the jungle. A cool breeze brushed the back of his neck, followed by her fingers. She kissed him to the sound of the falls, and his arms wrapped around her naked waist. But even as he pulled her against him, he could feel her slipping away. The moonlight dimmed. The falls disappeared. And her hand lifted, trembling violently as it pointed a phaser-like weapon at his chest. "Resistance...is…."
"It's alright. I won't resist," he said in a broken, jagged whisper. He cupped her face in his hands and closed his eyes. "I love you, imzadi. I love you more than life itself."
Picard hung his head. He heard none of the chaos around him as sickbay filled with casualties. The victory had been won, but at a steep price.
"He was a true warrior," Worf said, drawing himself up beside the captain and gazing at the bloody body below. Will's body. "He will be honored as such."
"It was instantaneous, they say." Picard spoke in a low whisper, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "Right through the heart. But we may never know what killed her. Not officially, anyways." His gaze shifted to the body beside Will's. A Borg body. Female. No fatal injuries could be seen on its surface, yet they had found her beside the commander, just as lifeless.
"Will you tell the girl?" Worf inquired.
"No. She must never know of her mother's role in this." The captain shook his head. "She will have enough to contend with in the coming days."
"Indeed."
A flurry of shouts drew their attention away from the bodies. Picard looked over to find Carmen frantically fighting her way through the crowd. His heart thudded in his chest. "No-Mister Worf! Do not let her see!"
She broke free and bolted straight for her father. But Worf snatched her up, lifting her high into the air. "Daddy! No!" she cried, her hand still outstretched towards his. "Daddy!"
Her screams followed them out of sickbay. Worf tried to set her down once they were in the hall, but she thrashed against him so violently that he dropped her instead. "Carmen! Wait!" he bellowed. But she had already taken off, running down the corridor like she had never run in her life. And as she fled, another broken piece of her soul fell away, drifting on the winds of fate and into the expanse of time and space itself.