Morning finally came. It was nothing more than a few red rays breaking through a storm-stifled sky. But it illuminated the empty ruins around Carmen enough to give her disturbed mind some peace at last.

The nightmares had continued. Time and again, the Borg came for her. Sometimes it looked like the shadow figure. Sometimes it even looked like Commander Wharton. But never could she escape assimilation.

Carmen slowly sat up, stretching her stiff muscles. "I'm alone as you, now," she said to the walls with a wry smile. The wind answered her, howling through the centuries-old doorframe. "And you," she quipped. How long had the wind been crying through those empty streets, she wondered. How long had these walls been sinking beneath the weight of their loneliness? What had they witnessed so many years ago, when their people were taken from them?

As she pondered, she could suddenly see the room around her the way it used to be. Instead of bleak and barren, it was warm and inviting. A vivid red tapestry lay across the hard dirt floor. Paintings, comprised of streaks of colors that looked like sunsets, hung from the walls. A female sat before the hearth, stirring a savory-smelling broth that bubbled from a pot. She had orange skin with bands of brown across her forehead and cat-like green eyes. Her mahogany hair had been wound into multiple braids, each one adorned with teal or yellow beads. A child played with some sort of clay on the floor near Carmen's feet. His chubby hands tried to form the lump into a four-legged animal. She crouched down to his level and marveled at his blithe contentment. Here was a child who had never seen the harrowing face of war. A yearning bloomed in her heart, an intense desire to protect and preserve the innocence that radiated from him.

The wind shifted, blowing a flurry of sand at her face. She shook her head with a cry of dismay, shielding her eyes. When she uncovered her face again, the room had returned to its derelict state. Gone was the mother and child. Gone was the tapestry, the broth, the clay. And instead of comfort, Carmen could only feel a profound sense of sadness and loss.

"I know," she whispered, speaking again to the walls. Her chest heaved mournfully. "I know what it's like to lose someone. I'm sorry."

All four junior officers huddled in the grounded shuttle, bent over their respective breakfast dishes. The silence was mercifully broken by the wail of the wind. It whipped sand against the small, square windows as the storm finally broke.

Haykov pushed at his plate of biscuits and gravy. "It doesn't feel right. We should have mentioned that Ensign Riker is gone."

"You told them everything was fine, and everything is fine. She'll come around." Kerry tilted her head back for a sip of juice. "Can you believe it? We're barely gone twenty-four hours and Commander Riker has to check in with us. Can't stand being away from his pretend daughter, I suppose."

"That's enough, Kerry!" Sheppard snapped. The others stared at him in disbelief. He looked up, a bit surprised himself. "It's just that...you've...well, you've changed. You used to be better than that."

Kerry's mouth opened, but no reply formed. Haykov hurriedly interjected. "I say we go look for her. Agreed?"

Orin paused, fork in hand. "Aren't we supposed to go to the caves? We only have three days to get that data before the storm hits its peak. Some say storms are what attract the Nokk Qoten, you know."

"Enough with the Nokk Qoten!" Kerry groaned. "And hey, maybe she's in the caves."

"Kerry…" Sheppard warned.

"I'm trying to help! Why not check the caves first, get some initial data. Then, if we still haven't found her, we can head into the city. Keep looking."

Haykov shrugged. "Sounds good. But if she's going to put her hands on anybody again, it better be me."

"Knock, knock!"

Counselor Troi's head whipped up. In the threshold of her office, the commander was grinning back at her. "Will!"

"Thought you might want some company on your break." He stepped into the room. The doors swished closed behind him.

"Yes, thank-you." She patted the sofa beside her, which was a pleasant, muted shade of purple. The walls were colored soft green, and a vase of pink orchids sat on a table between the sofa and an armchair. The entire room exuded softness and serenity.

Riker gladly accepted the invite. He eased himself down with a sigh. "How are you holding up? Have you sensed anything else?"

"Not for hours now."

"But you did sense more?"

"Just faint waves of the same fear." Without looking, she clasped one of his hands between both of hers. "Do you think they were telling the truth? That everything is alright?"

The commander sighed again. "I can't think of a reason why they'd lie. Maybe Picard was onto something. Maybe it's just her nightmares returning. It is her first away mission, after all. Since joining us, I mean."

Troi nodded thoughtfully. "I should have considered that it might lead to some regression."

"You think she wasn't ready?"

The counselor traced her fingers over his hand, letting them run in small, soothing circles. "Ready or not, she's down there. We have to trust her now."

"Yeah. She'll be okay. Right?"

"Right." Troi leaned her head against his shoulder, knowing that each had tried hard to sound convincing.

"Hey, Deanna?" Restless waves curled away from his stormy mind. She looked up at him, concerned.

"What is it?"

"I've been thinking about what you said the other night. And...I think you were right. I told myself that I was keeping this a secret for Carmen's good. But the truth is..." He took a deep breath. "I am scared. Of commitment. Of having you. Of losing you. This all happened so suddenly, you know?"

"Really? Because I thought we had been dancing around this for years."

"No, I mean...feeling like part of a family. I've been on my own since I can remember, even on the days when my father was actually around."

Troi buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. "I'm so sorry, Will. I should have thought about that. I am a counselor, after all."

"Hey, it's okay. Took me awhile to sort it out myself." He reached up and brushed dark strands of hair away from her forehead. "I do like this, though. As terrifying as it is."

"Terrifying?"

"Yeah. Two empaths? I'll never get away with anything!"

Her delightfully smug laughter filled the office. The commander's chest bounced beneath her as he joined in. "Well what about me?" she quipped. "I've got two Rikers to worry about now!"

"We are a lot of trouble, aren't we?" He sent her a devilish grin. "Hey, but admit it. Things are more exciting this way."

She scoffed loudly. "I've had enough excitement for one day, thank-you."

His hand slid across her hips. "You sure about that?"

"Will! I have another appointment in ten minutes!"

"Plenty of time." He pulled her on top of him, despite her laughing, shrieking protests. Soon her protests dissolved into fervent kisses. And the dark clouds that had hovered over their minds evaporated in the blaze of their bond.