Chapter 37
All or Nothing
"Are you okay?"
"No, but I will be"
-Leeta and Nog, It's Only a Paper Moon
The system was beautiful in its extreme. In its center a dark indigo with burst of white plasma swirling star sat around 28,000 Kelvin. Creating a temperature zone of the solar system that were capable of supporting life were around the outer edge. But, along its inner system leaving lifeless planets, molten and cracking their surface. The fourth planet's liquid core spewed out into the dark blanket of stars as huge chuck of the planet was broken off leaving sprinters of debris floating,
"We will be hiding behind this class J planet," Wesley explained to the Senior officers, who gave their upmost attention to his prevention as they sat in their chairs. The Ensign pressed a few buttons on the screen, zooming out of the star map to the outer area of the system, "It's magnetic distortion will make us invisible to the Borg Cube's sensors."
He glanced over to Lefler, who took his cues, as they came to sit back down, "Once we're in position, O'Brien will beam over the away team, they will find the frequency and beam back." Reporting with confidence.
Almost synchronized with her, "The Borg will instantly know what we're doing, once we get the frequency. It will take thirty minutes for the wormhole to open." Pausing, before his eyes galvanized and flickered with emotions at his Captain, "I volunteer to be on the away mission, sir." Chewing on his button lip as he watched the Captain's minute expressions.
Picard's voiced belayed, jerking Wes out of his thoughts,"No, you will stay here," Wesley turned his chair. There was something glinting in the Captain's gray eyes. Was it sorrow, guilt, or pain in his eyes? The Ensign averted his gaze, and shrieked away with his shoulders drooped. "Your expertise are needed on the Bridge, Mr. Crusher. Commander Riker will lead a minimally away team."
Wes's brow furrowed. No one else needed to risk their lives because of the Borg. Death clung to them, pulling them down. Too many died because of him. He needed to be on the away team. Men like himself never changed. Nix was still inside of him, lurking in the darkest corridors of his mind.A lightening pulsed though his temple. The pain spread just pounding his skull. He messaged his temple trying to relive some of the pain. He whipped his nose, but smears of crimson blood. He let this happen his right hand bore an ever lasting shame.
"Wes are you ok?" Lefler said keeping her voice quiet, as she glanced into his, somewhat uncertain, hazelnut eyes.
"Its nothing, its just a headache." Answering back, before brushing the roots of his hair and turned his attention back to the meeting.
"Mr. Data, Worf meet in transporter room three at 2200 hours. We have forty-eight hours until we intercept the Cube. Be at the ready." His officers acknowledged him and rose, filtering out of the conference room. The Ensign was reluctant to leave, challenging the Captain in the eye. The young man cocked his head slightly, just looking him over, before deciding he was needed else where and exited the Conference room. Giving the Commander a nod as the young man left.
Picard came up to Riker, who stood at the door way, waiting, "Is there anything you wanted to discuss, Number One?" Picard's eyes trailed the younger man as he went to a station, re- evaluating sensor scans and analyzing the new data. But, he was visually tense, his hands danced across the panel with all the skills of a painter.
"No, but I'm worried about Ensign Crusher's well being. You made the right call, exposing Wes to the Borg before he's ready, especially with PTSD is a bad idea. Once this mission is over I'm pulling Wes from duty." The Commander's eyes furrowed with concern, "Your nose is bleeding," Picard shot him a sidewise glance and nodded. As the two entered the Bridge, he straightened his jacket and wiped the blood with his hand.
It took him a few more steps to say horsely, "Yes. Yes, I'm fine." Riker regarding him in silence. Not wanting to press the matter, "I want a status report within the hour," The two stopped and turned to one another, "Now, if you need me, you'll find me in Sickbay, Commander." Judging his Captain's demeanor as the older man turned away, he had a good idea what his next orders were, "You have the Bridge, Number One."
"Aye, sir."
Ensign Crusher turned his chair as the Captain strode up to the lift. He followed his Captain in as the lift's door hissed shut.
"Deck 12." The Captan ordered, not daring to look his Ensign in the eye. The lift began moving down, humming along the way. A long tension filled pause followed. Picard glanced at his Ensign, despite his youthful features emulating pure seriousness, his eyes were a fraction wider than usual, with only the hint of trepidation he was feeling show.
Wesley broke the silence, "Halt lift." He drew in a sharp breath, not so in fear, but of dread. Picard audibly shallowed. The Ensign turned to his Captain, his gaze piercing and grim, "Captain, I need to be on that away mission." Picard pressed his lips firmly together, not meeting his Ensign's gaze; his own fixed on spot beyond his shoulder.
"This matter is not up for discussion, Ensign Crusher." Wesley thought he saw a flicker of pain crossed his face.
"Captain, why? I'm more than qualified to be on this mission. The away team may experience obstacles; force field, encryption codes." Giving a brief pause, "I know Data is smart, but he only knows the basics of Borg's alphanumeric code. This mission will fail if I'm not on it." Wesley, carefully containing any trace of emotion in his tone.
"My orders stand." He answered stiffly.
"Does this have anything to do with me getting assimilated by the Borg?" The Captain drew in a startled, silent breath and blinked rapidly, then his expression turned to stone. He'd hit a nerve. Picard lifted his gaze to his Ensign's directly. His eyes bore lingering doubt, with grim determination and hatred for an enemy, who wounded them so deeply.
He cried, "I can't lose you again!" Gripping his Ensign's shoulders and shoved him backward to the turbolift's door. His eyes gleaming with of an undying guilt and self-loathing. Wesley glanced away, he pushed too far.
"Please, Captain. Give me a chance." Picard let go and back away from Wesley, looking him over. He was no longer the young child, who took over engineering, but a man braver than himself facing his fear every day because of his gift.
"No one else should be assimilated because of my arrogance." Turning away, "I can't let you go on this away mission. I…I don't know what I will do if I lose you again…" He couldn't bare the thought of seeing Wesley's broken body assimilated. Assimilation, what a innocuous sounding word for such an unspeakable act. He couldn't bring himself to destroy the monster they made him.
The younger man's voice rung out with brightness,"Have faith in me, Captain. Just give me a chance, and I promise. I will come back." Reassuring his Captain, before his eyes shifted toward the ground.
Pressing his combadge, "Picard to Riker." Wesley just blinked, emotion flickered in his brown eyes.
"Riker here" The Commander's voice filtering though the comm channel.
Picard addressed the invisible Commander Riker, "Ensign Crusher will be accompanying you on the away team." He absently touched his combadge, cutting off the connection. Leaving no time for Commander Riker to protest his order. The Captain turned back to his young Ensign, his expression soften. He reached out and put a comforting hand on the boy's slender shoulder.
"Resume lift." Picard command. The lift started again its way down, "Stop chewing on your lip, Ensign. It's a bad habit to get into." Giving a gentle squeeze. The turbolift stopped and Picard gave a slight nod as he step out of the lift, before the doors shut; cutting eye contact between them.
Beverly went over last minute preparation. Her hands going over the smooth screens of the diagnostic panels. She turned back around, to see a couple of teal shirted Ensign prepping medicine vitals or disinfecting bio-beds, she had so few medical personal left. The lost was not of faceless officers, all aware the dangers of service on a starship. Each had a history, loved ones, dreams and ambitions.
There was Victor Kozel, whom was battle hardened after many years of service on the Enterprise. He deserved the ranked of Lieutenant. She remembered having a rather personal conversation about growing up with his grandmother and her cooking. He promised her that he was going to make one of his grandmother's recipes that he grew up with called Varenyky. Anita Järvi, a dark eyed, ash light hair, a diminutive women, from Finland. A master of self-deprecating humor and not as reserved as everyone thought she was. Klahan Yu from Thailand, a greenhorn, fresh from the Academy, with an eager attitude and young. She was the first in her family to join Starfleet and they would feel her lose greatly.
Gone in an instant, barely even a tenth of a second as the incurable power of space's vacuum ripped the very breath from her. The decompression tore bio-beds from their with patients still on them and months worth of medical supplies from blood to anesthetics. The breach couldn't happen at a worst time as Sickbay was at full capacity, the entire medical staff reporting for duty and tending to patients in chaos typical in triage. She hung on to a to a near by wall as the cold, relentless vacuum of space as it tried to take her, stretching her muscles to their limits. She must have held on for several minutes, before structural integrity field came collapsed across her office and sickbay shrouded in darkness with spark spouting off of exposed wiring.
Slipping out of the memory, Beverly saw her hand shaking uncontrollably and held it with her other hand to make the tremors stop. This could not be happening her, not to her, she had to stay strong for Wesley's sake. She heard the doors of sickbay slide open behind her. Beverly turned smiling and ready to greet whoever came in.
Jean-Luc moved across Sickbay in his usual brisk, intense no-nonsense stride. He approached Beverly and stopped, "Doctor." Giving a slight nod. But, the look on his face made her expression freeze. To anyone, who didn't know the Captain all that well would not suspect anything wrong with, but she could see past his calculated false poise; that he took years of practice to perfect. Picard glanced in Beverly's direction, but neither of them looked at each other directly, "Is sickbay ready, Doctor?" There was a slight hesitation in Jean-Luc's voice. He was keeping something from her. The muscles between his brow were furrowed while expression his conveyed confidents and warmth, she saw past it; and saw the pain, the worry, and guilt in his eyes. Something must be brother him. But what? Then it all came together. Wesley.
"You didn't." Confronting him, reacting bright with fear for her son. But, Jean-Luc just seemed to sagged, not his rigid posture, he cradle his head with his head like he had an intense headache or trying to block out a painful noise. His eyes squeezed shut and his brow furrowed in great agony as he collapsed.
In an instant, she was kneeling beside him with a hand on his shoulder, vaguely aware of an Ensign hovering over her, "Jean-Luc," She said whispering loudly in his ear, "Can you hear me?"
But, he did not reply, the Captain gasped. His eyes wide opened, but he couldn't see her, his gaze was else where more horrible and listening to something so deafening that it drowned out the rest of the world.
"Jean-Luc!" Now shouting, she turned to the frightened eyed Ensign just standing there, "Ensign get me a tri-coder and get anyone who's still here. This is a medical emergency!" Doctor Crusher commanded. It was a few seconds before the orders sunk in, before the Ensign took off running.
She seized him, throwing one of his arms across her shoulder and took him over to a diagnostic bed. The Ensign came back with some more experienced staff and one of the more burly Lieutenants came over to help her get the Captain on the bed. Doctor Crusher, held out her hand and an Ensign gave her a medical tri-coder, Beverly frantically raced to get a reading.
Nothing abnormal in a standard scan…but something was wrong very, very wrong. She kept up a professional front during the scans, but in the end, she let out a small sigh of frustration. She looked up to the diagnostic panel…heart rate elevated, it was like he was the grip of a horrid nightmare. No fever, no tumors, no auditory hallucinations, nothing showed up on the diagnostic panel. It was like nothing was wrong with him.
Picard had came to himself enough to wave off Beverly's medical staff off, though not yet able to speak. His gray eyes were at half mast. He sat up on the bed, holding himself with his arms.
"Jean-Luc––" Beverly stopped herself. She had to distance herself from the distress she was feeling, as the someone she loved was now suffering. She was a Doctor, and the Captain was her patient, not her and to intimate friend, "Captain, are you ok?" She waved off her staff to give them space.
His face was slack, stricken; forcing himself to breath more slowly as he slide off the bed. He walked uncertain, slow and on his own and took a few more steps to say horsely, "Doctor, I'm fine." Straightening his jacket and regained control of himself, "Thank you, Beverly." Clearing his throat. Jean-Luc had no doubt that she could feel his worry.
Beverly came over with tri-coder in hand,"You must have had an anxiety attack of some type, but I can't rule out physical and emotional component until I get a full examination." With all the objection of a Doctor and skepticism, "It might even be a result of a prolonged undiagnosed illness." Weaving the diagnostic wand around his gleaming bald crown.
He gripped her hands bringing Doctor Crusher close to him,"Beverly, you won't find anything physically wrong with me." She brushed aside his comment and weaseled out of his hands with all the politeness and grace as a ballerina. The Doctor retreated to her make shift office; that was just a desk in the middle of empty area. Jean-Luc took note that her hologram projector of her son wasn't at her new desk. She mustn't been able to go back main Sickbay to retrieve it, if it was still there.
She insisted,"Something happened to you Jean-Luc and I'm determined to find what." Picking up a PADD to see the data on it. He glanced down at the floor. Turning back towards him, "Now, go and lay down or do I need to make that a direct order, Captain?"
"The Borg." It was the softness and the certainty in his tone, that made the hairs on her upper arms and the nape of her neck prickle. Determined to show no alarm, she kept her tone even, neutral. But at the same time, she needed to be assuring, so coming up to him, she placed a reassuring hand on his arm.
The veracity of the Borg, powerful, outrange, tore though his mind with out right fury that roared into his consciousness. Picard closed his eyes and stubbled to the ground with his hands over his hears trying to block out, the mental pain was so intense that he thought his skull would shatter. He staggered to regain his composure and he steadied his arm to grip Beverly's shoulder and opened his eyes once more, "God damn it, Beverly! Where is your son?" He cried out with such agony, such terror and such force that Beverly drew back in silence. A few moments past between them as Beverly's eyes looked over his form, before wrapping her arms around him.
A cry of help rang though the bounds of Sickbay. Reluctant to leave Jean-Luc, but her son might need of more help, she gave him a peck on his forehead. Doctor Crusher ran into to main entrance of Sickbay to see an adrenaline filled Reg Barclay carrying an unconscious Wesley Crusher followed by a worried Lefler.
"What happened?"
"He was just talking to me and he suddenly collapsed." Lefler stated trying to stay professional as possible when a close friend was in pain.
"Bring him over here." Reg nodded nervously, bringing the lanky body of her son over the closest bio-bed. Wesley's skin was ashen, and his face glistening with sweat, his mouth slack. What frightened her was how vacant and wide his eyes were, empty of his genius and youthfulness. In its place, another consciousness, cold, mechanical, mindless, it filled Beverly with dread. But, it wasn't Nix. Nix had the eyes of a predator, calculating with shrewd intelligence. It was like the soul was ripped from him. Wes was incapacitate and unable…helpless to keep it from happening. She had seen this before, many years before…
Tears swelled in Beverly's eyes and blinked rapidly to dissipate them. Her son would not lie still as small tremors racked though his thin body, "Wesley, you're going to be ok," Combing back the brown tufts of his hair, but he was beyond her and she doubted he could hear her in this world of pain.
Picard staggered in. "No, no, no, no." he said under his breath. Wesley convulsed, his limbs sprawling in the air in an uncoordinated dance, his head banged against the padding of the bed. Stretching and compressing, strain every muscle in the boy's body. He knew, that Beverly couldn't give any medical treatment to end this horror. Picard truly looked his age.
The episode couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes, but to Picard it felt like an eternity. Wesley began to whimper as he turned his neck away from an unknown force. It seemed there was nothing he could do stop it. His back arched up and his eyes widen, but he froze when the eerie sound of a single voice combining the whispers of thousands; the voice of the Borg. And Wesley's lips were forming the words:
"We are the Borg." Picard held the boy's hand to give some sort of comfort, small tremors still racking through his body, "This child is ours." It sent chills down hearing theses words speaking though this boy. He wasn't sure what he could say would help the boy, but that didn't mean he couldn't comfort him in this time of pain and darkness, "He will become one with us again."
"It's ok, Wesley. I'm right here, you don't have to be afraid." Shushing him. Picard didn't even know if Wesley was hearing him. It seemed like the Borg presence had left him.
Wesley spoke an eerie warning, hoarsely. "You will fail." The Ensign fell limp against the bed, exhausted by the waves of pain. It had ended. He lay panting with his mouth open. The Borg were doing this on purpose, hurting and torturing Wesley to get back at him.
Reluctant to leave his Ensign's sleeping form, the Captain peered up at his Chief Medical Officer, who nodded. A Nurse came with a bowl of cold water and soft cloth and handed it to Beverly. She said a quick thank you, dipped cloth in the water and placed it on Wesley's forehead.
Picard gave one last look at the boy, before moving away. In few short seconds the poor boy had been destroyed. He tapped on his combadge, "Picard to Riker." Opening a channel between him and his Commander.
"Riker here."
"Commander Riker come to Sickbay admittedly." The urgency in his voice filtering though the comm channels.
Riker replied,"On my way." The Commander gave Data a look before vacating the Captain's chair and heading up to the lift.
Picard only waited a few minutes, before hearing the sound of Sickbay's doors open. The Captain signal his Commander to followed him. Riker's eyes lingered with worry on the Doctor Crusher and her son. He'd never seen Wesley like this. The two officers went to Crusher's office to have more privacy.
The Captain was turned away from his Commander."The Borg know we're coming." Not looking at the younger man. Picard felt rage build up in his stomach, but he suppressed. He would make them pay.
Riker now saw the severity of the situation, his body tensing up as the realization of what Picard said began to sink in, "Captain, we have to abort the mission. Wesley been comprised, sir." But, something did linger on Riker's mind, why hadn't they been assimilated yet? Riker kept his arms crossed.
Picard's frown deepened. "We're all comprised." His gray eyes catching glimpses of Wesley, who slowly sat back up, much to the objection of his mother.
Turning back, Picard heaved a heavy sigh, "We have no alternatives, Number One, we have to spring the trap."
A few moments passed, before Riker spoke, "Captain… there was nothing you could've of done to prevent this…" The Commander's voice was uncharacteristically small and quiet; hesitant and crestfallen. He rubbed his eyebrows before moving down to stroke the bristles of his beard.
"Helpless…" A tension filled pause followed, he licked his lips, before turning back around; his gaze piercing and grim. "Are we so helpless that we're unable to protect those who are closes to us?"
"This isn't your fault." Crossing his arms. Picard locked his agate eyes onto Riker. He couldn't put into words, no impossible, what such loyalty meant to him. Their loyalty went unspoken, but unshakeable, running deep within friendship.
Coming toward him and he turned at the doorway, "Yes, it is Will." The undercurrent of certainty and hardness however remained smooth made Will understand. Moving across the office, going past the Commander with usual brisk, no-nonsense stride back to the main area of Sickbay. Commander Riker walked behind him; the two stopped at the doorway.
On the defense, the young man pushed Nurses away. He shouted, "Why do you keep looking at me like I've been…" Breaking off, not willing himself to say the word, "I haven't!" His voice cracking. Still the Borg could get to him, still they waited for him in shadows, waiting to attack and take him again. Wesley stopped in his tracks, before noticing the Captain and the Commander. Picard moved not a muscle; his face was set in stone. The Ensign combed though his hair and stared at the ground. He pulled his jacket down, straightening it. Picard knew how a read the boy…Ensign; he lost all control and composure. "I'm not weak, I'm not weak." He muttered over and over under his breath becoming softer each time he said it.
Picard was hesitant and shot Riker a questionable glance. The Commander gave a slight nod, before striding away to talk to Barclay.
Wesley gripped the wall, making sure that his legs wouldn't give out. Wincing at the pain, "Wes–––please sit down." Doctor Crusher touching his shoulder, her gentle voice made her son twitch and struggle to get away.
"I…I…I…want to be left alone…for…awhile." His voice shaky, backing away from her, his eyes wide, before taking off running. Picard allowed himself to give a grim smile as came up to her. Beverly tried not to take offense of her son's behavior. He was hurt, so hurt, she gave a glance at Jean-Luc, he must gotten from him.
Before he could say anything, Beverly spoke first, "Nurse Ogawa, I'm going to take a walk. I'll be back in ten."
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