Chapter 14

Beverly put the strange experience with Tasha Yar behind her and went to check on Seth in the recovery room. To her surprise, Wesley was there, sitting silently next to the younger boy's bed. She walked up behind him and leaned down hugging him around the shoulders. "I'm so glad you're both safe," she said kissing him on the cheek. "But it's 2 in the morning, Wesley. You really should go get some rest."

He shrugged. "I took a nap." Wesley held onto her arm, but said nothing else for a while. "I wonder what's wrong with him," he said distantly.

Beverly sighed and straightened, stretching out her stiff back. "He has something implanted in his neck. From what I can tell it's not a leftover Borg implant."

To her surprise. Wesley let go of her arm with a grimace, and his hand shot to touch the side of his own neck. "Are you sure?"

She watched him with concern. "Wes... you never told me what happened to you down on the Borg home world."

He stood up from his chair. "That's because there's nothing to tell."

She lifted an eyebrow. "You're beginning to sound like your father, you know."

Wesley crossed his arms. "Good," he said seriously. "The way he does things is easier."

"Easier?"

"Yeah. Because he doesn't have to feel anything."

Beverly tried not to betray her worry and shock. "He does have feelings, Wesley. I thought the two of you had been communicating better than before."

Wesley shrugged. "He's not like Dad was...is."

She ran a hand through her hair. "Yes, I know." She looked at him closely. "You miss Jack, don't you?"

He nodded. "Do you?"

"Of course I do." She pulled him into a hug. When he pulled away first she looked into his eyes. "Wes, it's alright to love and miss Jack and still seek love and affection from Jean-Luc. Listen, I know that it's not easy with all of the changes we've been through lately, but we're still together. And we are going to be a family."

Wesley sighed tiredly and wiped a hand over his face. "I know..." He walked toward the bed where Seth lay very still. Part of his uneasiness was that Seth had fallen ill so quickly, and had yet to wake up. Everything was in flux, and he felt helpless. He felt afraid of revealing his fears to his father who seemed to have no fear of anything. Wes sat down carefully on the side of the bed. "Were you able to identify what the implant is made of?"

Beverly walked toward the bed, somewhat grateful for the change of subject, even if it meant she had to again feel the frustration of not knowing how to help Seth. "Yes. It's a tiny piece of manganese."

Wesley frowned. "You mean like the metal?"

She nodded. "Why it would be there, and why it was undetectable before, I have no idea. For some reason the beam that scanned the Enterprise interfered with the object in his neck, or perhaps activated it somehow. He's stable now, and from what I can tell, it's not harming him. But as soon as I get some rest I am going to try to remove it surgically." She reached down and stroked the top of Seth's short curly hair. "I feel incredibly guilty," she admitted.

"Don't," Wesley said. "It's not your fault, Mom. Like you said, it didn't show itself before now."

"That's good advice," said a voice behind them. They looked up to see Guinan standing in the doorway. She approached carefully and stood over Seth. She looked at Beverly for permission. "May I?"

Beverly just looked at her but moved aside. Guinan leaned over the boy and then put her palm on his forehead gently. "I think he'll be ready to wake up soon. He just needs a little bit of help."

Picard stood at the door of his ready room and beckoned Deanna's mother inside. "Thank you for agreeing to view the transmission with me, Mrs. Troi. Especially at this late hour."

"Of course I would agree! Will is my son-in-law after all, Captain. What kind of heartless woman do you think I am?"

Picard paused at her dramatic exclamation, and then gestured for her to walk past him in to the room. "Oh. Well, I certainly meant no offense."

She beamed a smile at him. "None taken, of course, you lovely man," she declared sweeping into the room and sitting down casually on the couch. She crossed one leg over the other and looked at him demurely before patting the seat next to her.

Picard cleared his throat. "Actually," he said, gesturing toward his personal view screen. "I thought we would sit at my desk and view the transmission together." As if to demonstrate, he pulled out a chair invitingly for her. Smiling again she gathered up her flowing skirt and then sat down gracefully in the offered chair.

Picard sat down beside her and reached out to switch on the screen, just as she inched her chair toward his until the two chairs were just touching. "How clever of you, Captain, now we can be closer together this way."

"Ah…." Not knowing what else to say, he switched the screen on and then looked at her before accepting the transmission. She was awfully close now—and why was she staring at him in such a way? He stuck his finger inside his collar uncomfortably. It seemed as though she was looking straight into his deepest thoughts, and which made him feel decidedly uncomfortable. Mentally shrugging it off, he waved his hand over the screen accepting the incoming code.

The screen wavered for a moment in an odd way, and then Will Riker's familiar but bruised face appeared on screen. "Riker!"

The man on the screen coughed and then hunkered down in front of his screen secretively. "Jean-Luc…you've got to get me out of here," he whispered.

"Of course, of course, Riker, we are on our way," he reassured his friend. "Are you well enough…I see they've harmed you."

Riker characteristically rubbed his beard. "They plan to kill me if you don't get here soon."

"Will, dear," Lwaxana spoke up. Riker shifted his attention to her and blinked as if in slow recognition.

"Oh…hi Lwaxana," he said. "Don't worry about me," he whispered. "As long as the Enterprise gets here soon, I'll be fine."

"I know you will, dear. Now, Will…what do these awful people want? Why did they take you away from us?"

Instead of answering her, Riker glanced behind him, and then back at the screen. "There's not much time." He held up a tiny disk between his fingertips. "I've got our coordinates right here, Jean-Luc. As soon as I transmit them, you won't have any trouble tracking us down."

"Good," Picard said. "Riker, what does this Marco person want? We understand he's ex-Starfleet. Can you tell us anything about him?"

Riker suddenly looked nervous for the first time. "I have to go, buddy…just get here as soon as you can."

The Eureka

Riker turned to look at Marco and Caine, standing behind him out of range of the view screen. "How'd I do?"

Marco nodded. "I think you're ready for the big time, Will."

Riker grinned. "I can't wait until Jean-Luc gets here. He's going to love this place. Especially the women," he said wiggling his eyebrows.

Caine leaned on his elbow against the wall. "And if he doesn't like this place? What then, Riker?"

Will's expression grew serious, as if he hadn't considered that prospect. How could anyone not like what was happening on this ship? Especially knowing that the place they were traveling to was a place where they would find the secret to eternal life. "I—I'd try and convince him, I guess."

Marco walked over and put his hand on Riker's shoulder. He crouched down so that they were at eye level. His green eyes somehow seemed even more intense. "Will…now I thought we were clear on this. If any of your friends can't get with the program, I'm not going to expend one bit of energy on convincing them of anything." He made a gesture toward Caine. "Do you think Caine is just here for his good looks?"

Riker's smile faded gradually. "No…I guess he is kind of ugly, now that you mention it."

Caine kept a sinister smile plastered on his face.

Marco laughed softly. "I knew I made the right choice to open up to you, Will. And I know that if I ask you, you'll do anything I tell you to do." Marco's eyes were mesmerizing to Will at that moment. "Your friend Picard has something that belongs to me, and I don't think he's going to want to part with it."

Riker shook his head. "Picard is stubborn, but he can be convinced. I'll do it, don't worry."

Marco laughed again and stood up. "Good, Will, very good. Because if you can't accomplish the task I'll have to leave it to Caine. And unlike me, he's not so kind. He will kill your friend."

Lt. Commander T'Sara turned from her current post at ops. "Commander Data, we have cleared the remaining mines in this area. They should pose no further problem for passing ships," she added.

Data nodded curtly. "Thank you, Commander."

"Commander Data, the Klingon ship from the Reman battle is de-cloaking," Yar suddenly announced from tactical. She had arrived on the bridge recently without comment, and looked well enough after her ordeal. Data did not ask what had occurred aboard the Reman ship. Of course, he expected that soon enough there would be a report. However, at the moment, Captain Picard was still engaged in communications with a transmission thought to be from Commander Riker.

"On screen," said Data calmly. He was no more surprised than if Yar had said, "Borg ship approaching", or "giant space frog croaking", because after all, he was an android. But more than that, he was the First Officer on a starship, and ultimately anything was possible. That isn't to say that Data never found certain events to be improbable, or unexpected, because he did. And the return of the Klingon ship was just another of these unlikely events.

The Klingon ship shimmered into view. "They are hailing us, sir," reported Yar.

Data said nothing, as the view screen suddenly filled with the face of an angry Klingon. "We demand to speak with you!"

Data fixed the Klingon with a placid look. "I am listening," Data replied, simply.

The image on the view screen pulled back, and two large figures with their hands bound behind them were shoved toward the screen roughly. Data immediately recognized them as Worf and Krala. They looked just as angry as the first Klingon.

"Commander Worf," said Data by way of greeting.

The first Klingon stepped in front of the two prisoners then. "Do not honor him with the rank of a true Klingon officer. These two criminals have shamed their crew and the Klingon people by disobeying an order of the Chancellor!"

"It would seem that the more appropriate place for this type of dramatic oratory would be a court martial," Data suggested.

Worf was shoved closer to the screen. Krala let out a low growl. "Tell the Federation officers of your plight!" shouted the irate Klingon who had now apparently taken command of Worf's ship. "If they return to Qo'Nos, they will be executed. There will be no oratory," he sneered. "But the Chancellor likes these two…and he does not want to kill them. However, to have them return and not face the ultimate punishment would be politically…foolish of the Chancellor. Tell him," he screamed into Worf's ear again.

Worf spoke haltingly as though it pained him to say the words. "We seek amnesty on board your vessel as political prisoners," he grumbled.

His wife stood staring angrily at the view screen, until Worf elbowed her in the ribs. "I seek amnesty as well," she growled.

Data consulted the appropriate legal protocols quickly. "As a preliminary matter and under emergency circumstances, I grant your petitions," he said. "You may beam over when ready."

When the transmission turned off, Picard turned to Mrs. Troi, and realizing she was still too close for comfort, slid his chair far away from hers around to the other side of the desk. She appeared only mildly insulted by this. "What was—what was your assessment of Commander Riker's behavior just now?"

Lwaxana Troi got up from her seat with a sigh and sat down heavily on the couch. "He's either unable to express what he really wants to say…or he's hiding something. Of course, I can't read his mind from that far away, because I can't properly sense him; but I can do a fair approximation of a mind read. There is something very off about Will right now, but I can't put my finger on it."

"I agree…and if I had to guess I would say he is under the influence of some kind of drug. He's never called me by my first name that I can recall; always 'Picard' this and 'Picard' that…and certainly hardly anyone has ever referred to me as 'buddy' before…."

Lwaxana leaned back against the couch. "I'm glad Deanna wasn't here. I don't think she would've-Captain that's it! He didn't say a word about Deanna, not one word about her or the baby. Now imagine that!"

Picard folded his hands over his stomach in front of him. "He's been in captivity for several days, Mrs. Troi. Perhaps he's just desperate to get free and is not thinking clearly. Who knows if they have been starving him, torturing him…and perhaps they were listening in. If that was the case, perhaps he was trying to shield them from knowledge of Deanna—for her safety."

"Perhaps," admitted Lwaxana. "But something very strange is happening here," she said with a frown. "You said perhaps he's desperate to get himself free. But he didn't seem very desperate, did he?" she said looking at him seriously.

He shook his head. She was right. "No, he didn't." He got up and walked around the desk, sitting down on the couch a safe distance away from her. He was trying to be gracious—he was glad for her help. But every time he came physically closer to her he felt so uncomfortable.

Lwaxana laughed suddenly. "Oh, Captain, you don't have to feel uncomfortable for the way you feel about me," she reassured him loudly, before reaching out to place her hand on his knee.

Picard jumped a little, before lifting her hand off of his leg. "Mrs. Troi, I am afraid you have gained the wrong impression—"

"Oh, don't over-emphasize the 'Mrs.', Jean-Luc, my husband has been dead for years."

"Mrs. Troi, I happen to be involved with someone—"

"Oh Jean-Luc," she interrupted him boredly, "I'm a woman of the world. And I happen to believe that it is entirely possible that you could have room in your heart for more than one woman at a time."

"Oh…no," he said quickly. "I can assure you that my heart has no more room."

"Are you saying 'oh no' because you don't agree, or because you are afraid Beverly Crusher will find out about your unbridled feelings for me? Don't forget I've seen your thoughts, Jean-Luc. And you have a lot to answer for." She chuckled mischievously.

Picard stood up quickly. "Mrs. Troi! I asked you here to assist me because of your unique skills as an ambassador, and your familiarity with Commander Riker. And as for feelings for you, I have none."

Lwaxana made a skeptical face, looking up at him. "What did your Shakespeare say about protesting too much? Don't worry, Jean-Luc, I won't tell her that you find me so alluring that you can't stop thinking about me-"

Picard put his hands on his hips and then folded his arms over his chest, entirely unsure of what to do in this situation. So he pointed at her emphatically. "Ambassador Troi…you had better not tell Beverly anything—"

"I know, she doesn't seem the type who would understand," said Lwaxana sympathetically. She stood up and strolled over to him. She kissed him on the cheek before he could move away and patted him on his chest. "It'll be our little secret for now," she said, before winking at him and walking out of the room.

Many years ago…

The tube-shaped ship rocketed through the solar system at a rate of speed unsafe for landing. Zaftu, Twelfth Descendant of the Healing Order of the beings known in an isolated corner of the galaxy as the Keepers of the Light moved its long-fingered hands unsteadily over the controls. If Zaftu had not been such an accomplished pilot, then it would surely have crashed the vessel by now, because Zaftu was nearly blind.

Zaftu hadn't always been nearly blind, but the disease that had taken the rest of its crew had now affected Zaftu as well, and by now had begun to ravage its organs beyond repair. Zaftu let out a low moan of pain and despair. Zaftu's crew of healers had failed to succeed in their desperate quest to find a cure for the disease that had wiped out the majority of the Keepers of the Light back on the home world.

The search for a cure had grown so bleak that Zaftu and others had been forced off planet to try and seek the cure with less chance of infection. But unfortunately, the plague had already infected some amongst the crew and by the time this was discovered, there was nothing that could be done.

It was all a disaster from there on in. And now, lost in an alien sector, closing in on a medium sized star of a golden hue, Zaftu saw few options. The ship itself was fine. But Zaftu was nearly incapacitated, near death, and the rest of the crew was dead, as far as Zaftu knew. Suddenly the perimeter console began to beep urgently. Zaftu strained to see as a giant blue and white orb loomed on the forward view screen.