Chapter 36

"Yar!" Riker stomped through the corridors on deck eight. Finally the object of his anger-at least one of the objects of his anger, was dead ahead. But she didn't seem to care, and didn't bother to slow her quick pace. "Yar!" Will shouted again.

Finally she halted and then turned around slowly to look in his direction. When she saw who it was, she began to walk toward him. "What do you want?" she asked. There was no defensiveness or caution in her tone, but she seemed genuinely curious. She stopped just an arms length away, as though daring him to make a move.

He wiped a hand over his eyes. He'd just come from Ten Forward, having drunk too much of the real thing. What he'd been through...and the kind of things he was considering for the first time ever called for something more powerful than synthehol. Something real. The problem was, and he knew this; he and alcohol did not mix well. He shook his finger at Yar. "I want you to tell me what happened to Shelby. And I don't want any bullshit answers!" he added, as she glanced away, clearly uninterested in the subject matter. He shifted his feet unsteadily. "I'm warning you."

Yar crossed her arms and took a step closer. "And I don't respond well to threats. In fact, most people who have chosen to threaten me, haven't survived long enough to follow through."

"Is that what Shelby did? Did she threaten you?"

"But I'll give you some slack, because I can see you've been drinking," she said mildly, ignoring his question.

"I said, did she threaten you? Because from what I could see, she actually seemed to like you." He stepped forward. "So let me get this clear...the one person on board who could tolerate you, you decided to kill?"

Yar shook her head, looking disappointed somehow in Riker. And it only annoyed him further. Yar looked down at the deck for a few moments. "Did you ever want something so badly, Riker that you would do anything...anything to make it go your way?" Her eyes seemed to glisten when she looked up at him.

He swallowed, and was suddenly at a loss for words. She shook her head with a thin smile. "No, I didn't think you would understand..." Her eyes hardened again. "And so I have nothing else to say to you, Riker. You've already made up your mind, and no matter what I say to you, you'll think I killed her. Besides, I am not in the habit of caring what other people think."

"I see it now," he called after her. "You don't care about anything or anyone, do you?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "You know there's only one person on this ship who comes close to understanding me, Riker. He doesn't want to, but he does. So if you want to know what happened to Shelby, ask Picard."

"Data, it can't be…are we really stuck here?" Jack Crusher demanded, throwing himself back in his desk chair.

"Technically, no, sir. We are certainly free to move out of Borg space. The problem is that unless we are able to find another trans warp conduit, we will remain in the Delta Quadrant for the rest of the crew's natural lives. In theory, at maximum warp we would be able to reach the Alpha Quadrant in 40 years. However, such speeds are not realistically sustainable, without advances in warp drive capability along the way."

Jack threw down his data pad with a clatter and slapped his palms over his face. "Like I said…we are stuck." He ran his hands angrily through his hair, appearing for a moment as though he wanted to tear it out; then stood up suddenly and threw his hands up in the air. "Shit!" he yelled into the air in front of him, stomping his foot.

Data tilted his head with interest. Captain Crusher was naturally given to emotional outbursts, but recently, even more so. He could not help but notice that the Captain's emotional moods seemed to tend toward the more extreme since Picard had come aboard. Following the sudden death of Elizabeth Shelby, a pall had fallen over an already emotionally taxed crew. And the tensions between the Captain and Picard had re-emerged after having relaxed to some extent following Picard's efforts during the battle against the Borg.

"Sir, we will continue our efforts to locate additional conduits. There are still options."

Jack walked over to the window and now stood looking out at the stars. "You know what Data? You know what would make all of this just a little bit better? Something that would give me just a little hope…."

Data shook his head almost imperceptibly. "What, sir?"

"We need him…we need Geordi. If only he'd wake up…."

"Based on Doctor Crusher's most recent medical assessment sir, the odds against that happening are 410 to—"he broke off suddenly, realizing that the Captain might not want to know the exact odds. "It would be, as they say, nothing short of a miracle, sir," he said.

Jack pointed a finger at Data, still fixing his gaze out of the view port. "That's what we need, Data; a goddamned, certified miracle. Because that is what it is going to take to get us all home alive."

"We're still trying to locate the kids," said Wesley, leaning against Geordi's hospital bed. "But I don't think anyone really knows what we will do once we find them. Assuming they're even still alive," he trailed off. Look Wes…don't worry so much about what you can't control, he imagined Geordi saying.

"Yeah...but even worse is we seem to be stuck here...unless we can find another conduit to travel through to get back home...I've been thinking, though," Wesley continued to Geordi's placid expression. "You know all of that work we were doing before you got hurt? I want to try to use it to try to find us a way out of here. I know it's a long shot, but..."

Wesley looked up, feeling a hand fall on his shoulder. "Oh, hi Dr. LaForge," he said, moving his chair back to make room.

"You can call me Mark, Wesley," said the doctor. "I'm on leave right now, and we're practically family, after all," he said.

"Okay...yeah, you're right, we are like family," Wes agreed. "I always thought of Geordi as sort of a big brother. I mean even now, when he's so sick, I can sit here and talk with him about anything really. I just wish he was awake...I know he could help us out."

Mark LaForge smiled. "I'm sure it means so much to him that you come and sit with him, Wes. I know it means the world to me," he added. He smiled sadly, looking down at Geordi. He knew the chances were so slim now that he would wake up. Just yesterday, his brain wave activity had dropped to a low point. Cortical stimulation was still a possibility, but somehow that felt like a last resort. He looked down at Geordi and wondered how much of anything registered. Soon, he might have to make a decision, and he didn't know if he was prepared to do so.

Her blue-tinged lips silently accused, "You killed me."

"No," he screamed out, reaching as far as he could, but Shelby's body just drifted further and further away. "No, no no!"

He sat up abruptly, still shouting. "Jean-Luc, shh… it's alright." Beverly moved behind him and he felt her hands on his chest, holding tight over his heart, which felt like it was beating much too fast. Soft but strong arms gathered him into an embrace. She buried her face in the back of his neck. "It's okay." Slowly his muscles began to relax. He was safe in his own quarters and Beverly was still with him. He took a deep shuddering breath and then exhaled, dropping his head forward.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked, putting her chin on his shoulder.

"Unh," he grunted, shaking his head back and forth once slowly.

She laughed softly. "Oh, no of course you don't," she said, kissing his shoulder blade.

"Am I that predictable?" he asked in a low voice.

She smiled into his back. "Only to me."

"That's why you are the only one I need."

She laughed. "So…if some floozy formerly of the Q Continuum decides to tempt you again, I have nothing to worry about?"

He dropped his head again. "I must not have been in my right mind," he muttered darkly.

She squeezed him tightly. "Jean-Luc, I was making a joke. I'm not trying to upset you. Please put that woman out of your mind."

"Might you be able to help me with that?" he asked, turning his head back to look at her, finally offering her a sly smile. She smiled back and snorted lightly, gathering his meaning.

"Sure." She began to glide her hands over his chest, kissing his neck. Her breasts rubbed against his back, and he sighed contentedly. He took one of her hands, and guided it lower over his abdomen and into his lap.

"Oh, now I see where this is going," she said seductively. She nibbled the back of his neck as his breathing grew more rapid, and he leaned back into her body.

Suddenly there was a commotion out in his living room and they both froze. Marca was barking at someone or something. "Picard! Picard! I need to talk with you, now!" Jean-Luc bit his lip in frustration. It was Riker, and his timing really could not have been worse.

"Picard! Where are you? Get this damn dog away from me…" There was aloud crash.

Letting Jean-Luc go, Beverly jumped up, causing him to fall awkwardly back onto the bed. "Sorry!" She whispered apologetically. She looked around and found a robe and wrapped it around herself. "I'll go out there," she said, glancing down at him. "You're still…well you need a minute."

"Yes," he confirmed, still lying on his back and covering his eyes with his forearm. Beverly smiled sympathetically and patted him on the leg before leaving the room.

Q watched Wesley and Dr. LaForge from above with curiosity. These humans were inconsolable about one person falling into a coma. And Jack Crusher had even mentioned the need for a miracle. Did they actually require something for inspiration in addition to the knowledge that their race might soon be eradicated by the Borg? He found that hard to believe.

Still, he had learned enough from his relationship with Picard that he recognized the importance human beings placed on the concept of hope. He waited for them to leave, and eventually they did. It couldn't hurt, he thought with a mental shrug, and descended without visible shape to the engineer's bedside. Reaching an invisible tendril out to touch LaForge s forehead, he felt the familiar chill as his use of the power transferred into another being.

And then he felt something like a pause, and found that strangely he had to stay longer than expected. Something was different. The task now required concentration, whereas before the power had been just like a reflex. As he departed sick bay, he recognized that something very, very bad indeed had happened to the Q. And her name was Natasha Yar.

Beverly walked out into the living room, to find that Riker was propped up sitting on the floor, against the wall, his legs splayed out in front of him. She hurried toward him. "Will? Are you okay?"

Marca lay on the floor next to him. Her head rested on her paws and she looked the other way boredly. She seemed to have decided that he was no threat to her or Picard, who he had finally stopped yelling for.

Riker groaned and licked his lips. "I like dogs…good dog, thank you for not biting me," he muttered. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "I kind of deserve it, I know..." Then abruptly he seemed to grow sad, and she saw tears in his eyes. "Picard... I lost my ship…can't believe it's gone. And now Shelby…."

Beverly knelt down beside Marca, petting the dog's thick fur, while she regarded Riker. She could distinctly smell alcohol on him. "Are you drunk?"

"Not enough," he said slowly. He frowned and then blinked, surprised to see Beverly. "You're not him...Beverly."

"No I'm...not Jean-Luc, Will, thanks for noticing." She sat back on her heels, watching him shrug. "Oh, you are so drunk."

"Where is he?"

She pointed toward his bedroom. "He'll be out in a minute. He wasn't exactly expecting you." She stared into his blurry eyes. "You need some water," she remarked. "I'll get you some," she said starting to get to her feet. Riker grabbed her hand.

"Wait," Riker said. "Help me up, and I'll tell you all of Picard's secrets."

She laughed. "Here," she said reaching out her arms. "Can you get up?"

"My legs don't work so well," he grunted. "I don't know if you noticed, but they were broken recently," he said, taking her offered assistance.

"Actually given that I was the one who performed your surgery, yes, I had noticed, Will. Wow, you're heavy," she grunted pulling him up by his elbow, but was able to get enough leverage to help him to his feet.

"Picard carried me like a baby when we were on the Hood," he said.

"Yes, well, you weigh quite a bit more than a baby, and as you noted, I'm not Picard," said Beverly with a patient smile. "Are you alright to stand?" Riker nodded.

Picard emerged from the bedroom having changed into pajamas and a t-shirt. He was carrying Beverly's carefully folded uniform and lab coat under his arm. He handed the bundle to her wordlessly and then confronted Riker. "What do you want? You frightened Marca," he said, glancing down at the dog who was now snoring on the floor. "Well, she seems to have gotten over it," he admitted. "But still, you can't just come barging in here..."

Riker poked him in the chest. "I…wanna know what happened out there, Picard," he said slowly. "And I want…to hear it from you. Did she kill Shelby?"

Beverly stepped away, watching them both. Picard gripped his injured left arm, and looked down at his feet, before turning his gaze up to meet Riker's eyes. "Yes," he said quietly. "But I have no proof. Neither Data nor Worf witnessed it. And the cable Yar severed floated away and was incinerated by the Batleh's shields. The only other person who knows the truth is dead. So, I suppose it is her word against mine."

"Who is going to believe her over you?" said Beverly sounding baffled.

"I don't know, Beverly, Jack seemed to…" he said, glancing at her.

"I doubt that..."

Riker shook his head and put his hand on the back of a chair to steady himself. "It doesn't matter. Jack's little investigative inquiry is already over, at least for now."

"I know one thing," said Beverly. "We need to stick together. Hasn't there already been enough infighting?"

"If Yar killed Shelby, then she's not one of us. And I'm going to make sure that she pays," Riker said, swaying on his feet.

"You're in no condition to do anything but go home and sleep, Will," Beverly said firmly.

He shrugged and leaned on the chair again. "I just wanted to know the truth. Shelby and I didn't always see eye to eye. Actually we almost never did," he admitted. "But we always respected each other, and she was the best officer I've ever served with…" he ran a hand through his hair. "That is…until I met you, Picard."

Beverly moved to Picard's side and took his hand, gazing at him with affection. He smiled faintly. "I'm not an officer anymore."

"The hell you aren't," scoffed Will. He paused and looked at them both as though seeing them together for the first time. "Oh...I think I really interrupted something just now, didn't I? I'm sorry," he said sounding almost sober suddenly. He scratched his head absently. "It'll never happen again," he promised with a yawn.

Beverly and Jean-Luc merely looked at each other and then all three of them perked up at the chirp of a communicator. Suddenly embarrassed, Beverly looked down at the bundle of clothes she was holding and tapped her communicator. "Crusher here," she said as professionally as possible, while speaking into a pile of clothes.

"Beverly, it's Mark…you've got to come right away. Geordi's awake."

The bar had cleared out. Will Riker had been the last to leave, and before he had gone had drunk far too much Aldeberan whiskey. He had left grumbling about how he intended on "getting some answers". For all of the synthehol available on this ship, it was remarkable lately how the crew seemed to be turning back to the real thing, as though synthehol did not quite provide the level of escapism needed to give them the illusion of protection from the trouble they were currently immersed in.

Guinan was rearranging some bottles underneath the bar and wondering if Riker had found some of his answers, when a cold chill shot through her. Slowly she lifted her head to face him. She carefully adjusted her immense hat before speaking.

"We don't allow your kind in here," she said in a low voice.

"I'm shocked. Because if they allow your kind in, their standards must be virtually non-existent." said Q, sitting down at the bar and staring at her fixedly.

"I work here," she said.

"Even more shocking."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Q? Haven't you tortured Picard enough for one lifetime?"

"Actually it is now me who is being tortured," he said, placing his hand over his non-existent heart. "And I now need Picard's help."

Guinan crossed her arms and leaned on the bar, still looking at him. "You know, for the first time ever…I believe you. But Picard is human again…mostly. He's with us now. And we need him more than you do."

Q laughed disparagingly. "You're not even human."

"No, but I live among them, and I happen to want their species to survive," she said evenly.

"Yes, and so do I," he insisted.

It was Guinan's turn to laugh, but all she allowed was a knowing smile. "Q, if you actually have concern for the fate of humankind, that can only mean one thing: you are in deep trouble. The only thing that gives you reason to care is a threat to your own personal welfare."

Q rolled his eyes, which was one of his most favorite things to do when he was in a humanoid body. "If you knew me as well as you claim to, you would know that a have no need to be concerned for my personal safety."

Guinan moved around to the front of the bar and sat down a few stools away from him. "I think you should be speaking in the past tense. Things have changed recently for the Q, haven't they?"

"Yes," he admitted.

She turned her stool all the way around to gaze at him. "You should have thought twice before taking a damaged young child and making her into an experiment, Q. That girl endured so much suffering under your watchful gaze…and then one day when you determined that she had had enough, you took her under your wing. You underestimated that the ways that humans hurt each other can leave lasting scars. Some that never really fade away."

Q's eyes narrowed but he remained silent.

"Or maybe you knew that she would hold a grudge, and so when she turned the Borg against humans, you didn't mind so much… until she began to turn against the Q as well." She smiled perceptively. "Sometimes when the teacher becomes the student, it's not such a good thing. Isn't that what happened here, Q?"

Q stood up angrily. "Insolent mortal," he said, his eyes darkening. "Do you exist just to spite me?"

Guinan shrugged and wiped a smudge on the bar with her sleeve. "You came to see me, remember?"

He paced away and then spun back to face her, still angry. "What if I did come to you for your sage advice? What would you say?"

"Hypothetically?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his chin out. He nodded slowly.

"I would tell you that if you want Picard's help, you and the other Q need to be worthy of his assistance. And… I would also tell you to watch your back."

"Watch my back? Is that all?"

She raised an invisible eyebrow. "Is there anything more important?"

When he disappeared in his customary flash, she noted that it didn't appear as bright as it had all those other times before.

Hello, thanks for all your reviews, I always look forward to reading them. -PP