Chapter 7

ISS Enterprise Borg Saucer-Prison Block

As strange as it sounds, M was getting used to looking at himself. Still, he could not shake the eerie experience of taking orders from himself. "I need an update, Jack," the real Jack said to him with his slightly sinister voice. Even weirder, was that the real Jack still liked to refer to M as Jack. "What's Picard's status?"

"He's alive but hasn't been treated well," admitted M. "Troi has been abusing him, and he hasn't spoken in weeks."

"You were instructed to protect him," said Jack. "I'm not impressed."

"I'm making progress," insisted M. "There is a mutiny brewing against Troi and Riker and I'm trying to use that for leverage."

"You really don't understand this universe, do you? Conspiracies lead to bloodshed, and Picard is in a particularly vulnerable situation right now. We can't afford to have him put at even greater risk, because you think you are controlling some kind of game."

"Just let me work this angle. I think I can make sure the tables are turned, and Picard is much safer."

"I need you to keep Picard alive. Remember, if he dies, so do you and everyone else."

M nodded, happy to be released fairly quickly.

"One more thing," Jack's eyes shimmered with electricity from behind the security barrier. "Keep an eye on my son."

Office of Ship's Information and Surveillance

The Chief Information Officer of the ISS Enterprise, or what was left of it, was a very patient person. But recent events had pressed her. Used to having information at her fingertips and controlling it however she wished, she was currently lacking answers and was running out of time. Picard from the Lesser Universe was tied to the Borg of his universe in an extremely intimate way. She had touched that bond within his mind, only to be stopped at the gates of something more. Now the Borg were trailing them, even chasing the mutated Enterprise saucer into the corona of a sun. They had escaped miraculously, but only apparently because the ship itself was making smart decisions. Now as she scrambled to find allies against the Borg, she found herself talking to someone she had previously wished dead any number of times.

She settled back into the plush chair inside her main office. "Do know why you're still alive, Wesley?"

Deanna Troi's voice was almost gentle. Of course, Wesley knew that this was when she was at her most dangerous.

"Uh...I don't know exactly why...but I sure am glad."

"Don't try and play cute with me, Crusher. Your mother is the one who's valuable to me. Now I need you to convince her that joining me is what's best for her."

"So that means I'm valuable too..."

"To a point...listen, I would rather not have to kill her," Troi said, and it sounded almost sincere.

"What do you need her to do?" Wesley tried to keep his mind free from confusion and just focus. She could read every single thought that passed through his brain, and so keeping focused was key.

"She must speak with the Klingon General...Kurn is his name. We need the Klingons' support to defeat the Borg. Then, we can drop them as soon as they are no longer needed. You know...like any good ally would do."

Wesley could not prevent his heart from nearly jumping out of his chest. "The Borg are after us?"

Troi watched him with her perpetual smirk, but there was something different about that smile. She was scared.

The side of Wesley's face was abruptly slammed into the table. He knew better than to struggle.

Troi was up on her feet, now circling the room. He could hear her heels clicking on the floor. "You had better be careful with your thoughts around me, Crusher. Or I will have to make an example of you."

"W-wait...I know a way to stop the Borg." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he'd made a possibly fatal error. And yet, the pressure on his body gradually lessened, and he was able to lift his face up.

"Do tell." Troi sat down across from him slowly, her eyes daring him to say the wrong thing.

"I-I developed this weapon-"

She laughed up at the ceiling. "You lying little shit. You did not develop anything." She lowered her gaze again, now completely serious. "Let's start over again. Now, I know you are genetically and socially predisposed to lying all of the time, but let's try and fight our instincts, just for the moment."

Wesley wiped his hands over the table, trying to calm his nerves. "Okay, okay...so the Stargazer that my dad and Pots were on was a seriously tricked out version of the original. It looked like a mess, but some of the systems had been upgraded with alien technology. At first, I assumed it was Ferengi, but then Dad told me Pots had begun developing a special weapon, but the plans were incomplete. When you said back in that prison cell that Pots wasn't from the Lesser Universe, it all made sense. The plans for that weapon were just too complicated."

"And yet you understood them. Because you're the teenage genius," Troi said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wesley broke into a grin and spread his hands wide. "Well..."

"Please continue before I smack you, Crusher."

The words just began to pour out of his mouth. He was desperate to show that he was valuable, and not just because he was the son of Admiral Crusher. "Well, you see, it was a subspace cannon that not only detected tetryons, but also was able to energize them by utilizing the main deflector dish-"

Troi held her hands over her ears and shut her eyes as though she was in real pain. "Please spare me the technical jargon. What does the weapon do?"

He froze. Hadn't she seen the Stargazer destroy the Borg cube? It had happened just after the destruction of the ISS Enterprise stardrive section. Where had she been?"

"I was unconscious; took a nasty tumble on board the stardrive," Troi said, answering his internal questions. "Apparently I missed quite a show."

Wesley fought the urge to explain the technical details again. "Basically, we destroyed the Borg cube, but in the process created a massive shockwave, disabling the Stargazer, the Lesser Enterprise, and the Contagion."

Troi got up. "So, the weapon has a few bugs...but bugs are fixable. Correct?"

He felt the extreme pressure on his mind again, but managed to squeak out a "yes."

"Who else on this ship knows about this weapon?"

"Aside from my Dad, who's barely functioning, just Geordi."

Troi smiled. "You are going to make me one of these weapons, Wesley."

The Dinner Party

As soon as Wesley entered the room, Geordi knew something serious was up. There were no guards, just Wesley. He seemed well enough, but LaForge could read through his palm implant that the teen was more than nervous.

"Hey! Geordi!" Wesley grabbed his friend into an uncharacteristic hug.

"I may have over-promised something to Troi," Wesley whispered in LaForge's ear.

LaForge grabbed Wesley by the shoulders and pushed him away. "What?"

"The Borg weapon. Remember with the tetryons?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"I told her we could build one."

LaForge silently grabbed the top of his head, considering ripping his hair out. "Explain," he said through gritted teeth.

"The Borg are after us, we need to re-build the cube-killing weapon."

"You idiot! We don't have a deflector dish anymore-this is just the saucer."

"Yeah but it's not just a saucer; this ship is special. It thinks for itself."

"And that is good, how? What exactly did you tell Troi?"

"I told her we could do it. Geordi, if the Borg are after us again, it's in our interest to build this weapon. If we do this, we're set. For once, we'll be the heroes."

Beverly walked back into the living room dressed in her former Admiral's uniform and long dark blue coat. She smoothed the pleats of her jacket and twisted to look at Geordi. He had changed back into his gold uniform and looked as dignified as could be expected under the circumstances. It took her a moment to realize who Geordi was speaking with. She fought back intense tears at the sight of her son. He was alive. That was all that mattered. Regaining her cool demeanor, she approached.

LaForge didn't see her coming and was obviously agitated by whatever Wesley had just told him. "Goddamn it, kid!"

"Hi Mom," Wesley Crusher said with practiced disinterest, turning to see her.

LaForge smoothed out his uniform and tried to appear as cool as possible. His jaw dropped a little. Damn, she looks good.

"Gentlemen...I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," Beverly said smoothly. The remedy she had concocted for herself had no only sobered her up, but it had expunged her afternoon hangover.

"No," Geordi mumbled, still a little stunned by the contrast from earlier in the day. She was in peak form again, if only for one evening. He stepped slightly out of the way so that she could talk to her son.

"Is that all you have to say to your mother?" Beverly questioned her son. "After so long?"

"It's been a while," Wesley admitted, still keeping his distance. Troi had wanted him to cozy up to his mother and get back into her good graces, but now that she was standing in front of him the old intimidation had returned.

Beverly smiled thinly, and put a hand on Wesley's cheek. "My son," she said, sounding quite proud. Wesley blushed and tried to duck away from her hand, as the doors swished open. In walked Troi and M, followed by an entourage of red shirts, and surprisingly, Reginald Barclay. Troi snapped her fingers at the red shirts, who were carrying trays of food, and now scurried to arrange the food on the large dining table. They occasionally had to nudge over the man who sat slumped over with his head on the tablecloth.

Seeing Picard, Wesley nearly jumped out of his skin.

Beverly put an arm around her son's shoulders. "Don't worry, it's not him. It's just his Lesser version."

Wesley pointed at Picard, still in shock. "But-"

"Hi Wes," said Faux Jack, walking past with a wink.

"What the hell?" Wesley glanced around quickly behind him, not sure who was going to arrive next.

Trying to calm her son and at the same time prevent him from causing her embarrassment, Beverly squeezed his shoulder. "That's not your father," she said through clenched teeth. "That's imitation Jack," she continued, pushing Wes toward the table to sit down.

Troi had already seated herself and was now gazing up at Beverly with a superior air. "Please, Doctor...do have a seat," she gestured for the chair directly across from her.

Crusher sat down slowly but decisively, not averting her stare from her rival.

"Is there some reason why he needs to be there?" Crusher nodded casually at Picard, who was now groaning something nonsensical into the tabletop.

"I want him here," answered Troi. She paused with a condescending smile. "How does that make you feel?"

Beverly sat back and laughed. "You're not going to counsel me, Deanna. Don't forget, some of us have seen all of your tricks."

Troi leaned in. "You've seen some...not all." She waved toward Picard. "And never mind him, he's useless." She tapped a fork on the side of her wine glass. "Now, let's get started-"

Suddenly there was a commotion at the entrance to Beverly's quarters. "Look at this! A reunion! Well, aren't we one big happy family again?" Riker announced, sauntering into the room.

Riker paused briefly and patted the unconscious Picard on the back. "Looking good, old buddy." He looked up at the others with a devilish grin before throwing his leg over the back of the chair and sitting down beside Deanna.

Troi blinked, and briefly looked up at the ceiling. If she had expected Riker to show up, she didn't look entirely pleased about it.

Riker grinned at Troi. "Seems my invitation to your little party got lost."

Romulus-Third Space

For the last fifteen minutes, the lights in the cavern had been lowered, save for a bluish tint that flickered in a steady rhythm-a silent alarm. According to Riker, the area they were in had been under attack. Virtual silence had been ordered and was being enforced by heavily armed Romulans with severe expressions. Jeanette had been gone for several hours now. Beverly didn't know what to think, and so she just tried to keep her mind busy with other things. Unfortunately, none of those distractions were at all pleasant.

To her right lay the Terran Captain Picard, eyes closed, looking perhaps as serene as he ever would. It was now easier for her to separate his personality from Jean-Luc's. They were so different, after all. And yet, she could not deny that she liked to hear him talk. As irritating as most of his words were, she missed that voice. She realized that she had been staring at his face, and that realization gave her an uneasy feeling, but also made her heart race a little. It annoyed her that she felt any kind of attraction to him, but under the circumstances, she knew she needed to not dwell on it too much. Returning to her work, she buried her feelings again.

A few minutes later, Beverly glanced up from studying a readout as heavy boots approached.

"What are you doing?" came the sharp question.

"Doctor Sadek, you're back." Beverly sighed and turned away from her patient. "I'm monitoring the patient."

"Spock wishes us to commence the procedure tomorrow," said the Romulan, frowning under bushy eyebrows. "Unlike him, I question whether you will actually follow through with this procedure, and in addition, whether you will be competent enough to carry it out."

Beverly crossed her arms. "You've made it pretty damn clear that I don't have a choice, so if I'm not competent I guess that is on you."

"No threats have been made to you," Sadek objected.

"You shot Lieutenant Yar." She looked across the cavern where Yar lay unconscious but recovering from a disruptor blast.

Sadek raised his piercing eyes to her. "She is a Terran...Terrans are your enemy, are they not? Granted Terrans and Humans do all look the same," he added with an air of superiority.

Beverly shrugged off the intended insult. She was finding the Romulans just as bigoted as the Terrans, but so far possessing much less humor. "Your colleagues are walking around with disruptors and other weapons Doctor, and I'm supposed to feel okay about that? Well, I don't I feel threatened."

"Just ensure that the patient is prepared for surgery by tomorrow morning, Doctor Crusher. Or threats will be the least of your worries."

She watched the Romulan doctor stalk quickly away. He was now involved in a loud argument with Denata, the leader of the Romulan Separatists, and the woman who had stolen T'Pel's identity. The Romulans were on edge, that much was plain.

"You can stop pretending to be asleep now, he's gone," she murmured.

Piercing hazel eyes snapped open and Picard smiled at her, his teeth glinting in the dim light. "You covered for me."

"I ignored your antics," she said. "Not quite the same thing."
"Admit it...you're growing used to me."

"Fine," she admitted. "And so what?"

"So...perhaps if you don't hate me anymore, you could grow to love me," he offered in an almost quiet voice.

She clasped her hands together. "Not this again."

"I'm a persistent man."

"You're not going to have your way," she said.

He merely smiled. "And neither are you. The surgery is not going forward tomorrow."

"You don't care that you have a foreign object in your head that is apparently dangerous to not only you but to our very existence?"

He laughed. "The Vulcan is a famed liar where I come from, Beverly. Do not believe a word of what he says!"

"You don't know what this object is in your head. I can't imagine it's anything beneficial."

"Still, ethically, you need my consent...which I won't give you."

"As if you ever gave a damn about consent or ethics, Captain."

He attempted to sit up, but the restraints tightened across his torso, causing red marks to stretch across his chest. "I've told you...I won't let you or those Romulan dogs cut me open tomorrow. I'll die first, but not without taking Mr. Spock with me."

"Shh! Be quiet," she admonished him.

Sadek and Denata continued to argue more loudly, and something caused her to switch on the universal translator on the side of her badge. She only heard a few seconds, before Picard grabbed her hand.

"What are they saying?"

She froze as the words were relayed to her. "They're saying that there is a bomb inside your skull. And they may need to kill you to get it out..."