By Felicia Ferguson
Usual disclaimers apply.
Now
3/5
For all the repairs that had yet to be made, Engineering proper was mercifully silent. Almost like a tomb. Which is what it had become for several of her engineers. Of the thirteen men and women she'd lost, more than half had been on their first ship. The best and brightest, fresh out of the Academy or Jupiter Station.
What a waste. Lash Vaden crouched under a console, hypospanner and tricorder at hand, ostensibly working on the plasma conduits. In reality, she was hiding. After all, who could have confidence in the chief engineer if they found her sitting in the middle of Engineering bawling her eyes out? Shoving a fist in her mouth to stifle her sobs, she let the tears course unchecked down her cheeks.
No one had prepared her for this. Not her parents who had faced similar situations a multitude of times. Not her Academy training which emphasized survival and courage above fear and grief. And especially not Utopia Planetia, which hadn't seen a single person die -- even by accident -- in fifty years. She had been isolated from loss for so much of her life that the realization of its existence had the most crippling of effects.
This was why Starfleet had begun assigning counselors to its ships. But the Titan's counselor was not available. Instead of tending to the crew's emotions, she was forced by circumstance to tend to their safety and lives first as the new captain. Lash and the rest of the crew were on their own, and if they were anything like her, completely unable to deal with the emotional fall-out.
"It's alright, you know," a familiar voice reassured from somewhere above the console.
Lash squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to dry faster than she knew they would. She shouldn't cry in front of him. He'd seen so much worse these past few days. She shouldn't burden him with her sorrow. And yet, there was no one else she trusted more to ease the pain. "Gods, Michael, how do you stand it?"
The doctor didn't pretend to misunderstand and instead pulled his wife out of her hiding place and into his arms. Burying his face in her dark hair, he felt the shiver that rippled through her and held her tighter. "I could tell you that it gets easier, but I'd be lying."
"The mercy of it is I don't think any of them knew what happened after the warp plasma conduits blew. But they were all so young."
Harper trailed his fingers through her hair, brushing the tear-dampened strands away from her cheeks. With a sad smile, he murmured, "They knew what they signed on for."
"Did they?" Lash's brow furrowed in doubt as she shook her head. "I don't think so. I know I didn't -- at least not consciously. Back at UP, I had heard about Wolf 359 and all the people who had died in defense of the Federation. I helped resurrect and rebuild ships that were lost in that and several other battles." She paused a moment; her gaze clouded with memory and remorse. "When I accepted this post, it never occurred to me that I could lose friends, people I cared about…you."
Michael pulled her back into his arms, cradling her in their warmth. "You're not going to lose me, Vaden; I won't allow it."
"How can you say that?" Lash asked as she wrenched away from him and walked toward a blinking monitor. "How can you know that Riker didn't make that same promise to Troi and he still died?"
"Shhh…you're right," Michael soothed. He stepped behind her and eased her back against his chest. "I wasn't thinking." After a moment, he turned her to gaze into her coffee colored eyes. "I can't make any promises about the future, Vaden. I never could. The only thing I can promise is that I love you. And I will continue to do so for as long as we have together. That promise, I'm sure Will made to her and I know he kept it."
Fresh tears spilled over Lash's cheeks as she nodded. He had promised in all faith and she knew it to be true. Still it would be small consolation to a grieving widow. "How is Deanna handling it? I lost crewmates, but she lost her husband."
Michael sighed and shook his head. "I don't think she is just yet."
***
The door chime rang, pulling the counselor from her despair and back into the present. Jerking herself to an upright position, she tugged her tunic straight and replaced the statue of the Titan on its pedestal at the edge of the desk. She cleared her throat, and ordering her expression into serenity, she called, "Come."
Dr. Harper paused for a moment at the threshold before entering. Glancing at the terminal on the desk and the broken connection to the Romulan Senate, he asked, "Still no word from the praetor?"
Deanna shook her head. "And it appears if she has her way, nor are we like to. Tied up in meetings my ass," she muttered, shutting the console down.
"I've got an update on the casualties, Commander," he said as he handed her the data padd he'd brought with him.
The counselor tabbed through the list, pausing for a brief, but painful, moment as she passed one name. Two hundred and twenty-six dead. Almost half of the crew. Two hundred and twenty-six letters she would have to write home to family members notifying them of their loved one's death. Deanna closed her eyes at the thought, then nodded as she placed the padd on the desk.
"Thank you, Doctor Harper," she replied as she turned to another data padd. After a moment, she glanced up at him, realizing he hadn't left. An unspoken question accompanied by a raised eyebrow lit her dark eyes.
"Take a few days, Deanna," Harper said, his eyes soft with understanding. "You need to grieve."
Troi shoved the chair back and rose, picking up one of the many data padds that lay scattered on a side table. She hadn't heard him, Harper was certain of it. Either that, or she just refused to hear him. He skirted around the desk and grabbed her shoulder. "Don't make me relieve you from duty."
It was obviously the wrong thing to say. Fire lit the counselor's dark eyes. Shrugging away his well-meaning hand, she turned and pierced him with a look that should have slain him where he stood. Her voice shaking with anger, Deanna spat, "Don't presume to tell me what I do and do not need to do, Doctor. I hold a degree in psychology from the most prestigious university in the field. I have counseled hundreds of victims and their families. I will grieve when I am damn well ready to grieve. Is that clear?"
She paused for a moment, catching a breath after her tirade and waited for him to nod. When he did, she inclined her head and stepped away, returning her attention to the data padds. "Now if there are no other grounds on which to base your suggestion, I have work to do. You are dismissed, Doctor."
As the ready room doors closed behind him, Harper murmured to himself, "No, she's not handling it at all."
***
Counselor's Personal Log: The Merrimack arrived today after hearing our distress signal having been en route to a medical conference on Rigel IV. But more importantly, I think, Beverly is on board, thank the gods. I could use an old friend right now.
***
"Deanna, I am so sorry," Beverly whispered as she engulfed her friend in a warm hug.
The Betazoid nodded against the doctor's shoulder. "There was no warning at all. They just appeared out of nowhere
"How did you make it all the way to the Neutral Zone?"
"By luck, by chance? Who knows. After the Warbirds began attacking we tried every attack and defense pattern to get rid of them. We must have ended up here somewhere along the way. I can't tell you much more than that. The conn and helm officers are dead and what's left of Engineering hasn't gotten that far in the repairs."
"Commander, sorry to disturb you," Ensign Lohn intoned over the comm link, "but Commander Donatra is hailing."
"Thank you, Ensign, I'll take it here in the Ready Room." Deanna grimaced. She'd had just about enough of Romulans, friendly or otherwise. Offering an apologetic smile to the doctor, she sat down behind the terminal. "On screen." A second later, Donatra's face replaced the Federation logo. "Commander, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
The Romulan inclined her head and replied, "I wanted to check your status and update you on the missing Warbird. We have continued to patrol the area and there is no sign of it. The crew of the disabled ship wiped their computer system and committed suicide before being boarded. My engineers are working on recovering the deleted files, but there's not much hope of success."
Of course not, that would have been too convenient. Deanna smothered a disappointed sigh. "Thank you for your efforts, Commander. They are appreciated." She paused, her eyes absorbing Donatra's surroundings. "I see that you are down on the planet. If you see Tal'Aura, tell her I am waiting for an explanation as to who ordered the attack and why."
"I understand that the praetor has not contacted you as yet?" At Troi's nod, Donatra continued, "I will make every endeavor to deliver your message and I assure you that you will receive a response soon." The commander pursed her lips. "Please be aware that this attack was not the will of the Rihannsu people, Commander. There is great outrage on the planet for the actions of a few."
It was a comfort, but a small one and Donatra recognized that. Humans were characteristically shy of promises when they had been broken before. It was a trait common to both species. If there was nothing left in the end, perhaps they would have that to build on.
"I am able to send whatever aide you require, Commander. It only awaits your agreement," Donatra said.
Deanna could read the truth of her words in the entire conversation. Donatra truly believed in the peace effort. But Troi wasn't yet ready to open the entire ship for Romulan inspection, regardless of the good intentions.
"I thank you again for the offer, Commander, but reinforcements have arrived and are assisting in repairs. Everything is ahead of schedule."
"Very well, then. I will contact you as soon as I have met with Praetor Tal'Aura. Donatra out."
Troi tapped a button on the console and the screen faded to black then looked up at Beverly, whose skepticism was etched in her features. Deanna shrugged. "No need to let them know just how defenseless we are. Besides, with the Merrimack's arrival, we soon will be ahead of schedule."
The doctor shook her head in awe. "You bluffed her."
Deanna offered her a wan smile. "A wise man once said that dealing with Romulans is the consummate poker game -- or at least something to that effect."
"Let me guess," Beverly murmured with a sad smile of her own, "Will?"
Deanna nodded then turned away, willing away the tears that threatened to fall.
"How are you holding up?" The doctor's soothing tones wrapped around Deanna, comforting her aching heart.
"I'm alright, Beverly," she replied with a slight shake of her head. Seeing her friend's dubious reaction, she continued, "Given the circumstances, I am. When this is all over, we'll see what happens. But for now, I'm alright."
The doctor nodded knowing she wouldn't receive any more information unless Deanna wanted it. Sometimes the woman was more enigmatic than Guinan herself. So instead of pressing her for more, Beverly said, "I'm here for the duration if you need me."
Surprise flickered across Troi's brow. "What about the conference? The Chief of Starfleet Medical can't just not show up."
"Half the reason I was going was to get back in space for a little bit. You've given me an excuse to prolong my stay."
A pleased smile flitted over her lips before it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. "So I was right, you do miss being on a starship."
"Don't get me wrong, I love my job, but after being out here for so many years, I miss it enough to hitch a ride when I get the opportunity."
Deanna nodded as she rose and walked toward the replicator. Thankfully, the engineering teams had gotten that system up and running a few hours ago. She ordered Earl Grey tea for herself hoping to absorb some of Picard's strength from the tiny tea leaves. When she glanced at Beverly, the doctor shook her head, refusing any offering.
With a nod, Deanna sat back down and blew on the hot liquid before taking a soothing sip. "Have you heard from Wesley?"
"Not since --" she had started to say, 'the wedding' but knew that she couldn't utter the words so instead she said, "not for a while. He's finished his studies at the Academy and decided to forego a commission in Starfleet to continue with the Traveler. He said he thought he owed it to us -- me, Jack, Jean Luc, everyone -- to graduate, but he still felt called to go back out there."
"And how do you feel about that?"
"If you mean, was this the path I would have chosen for him? No, it isn't. I would rather have seen him captaining a starship, married, with several children." Beverly paused, staring into a future that was not to be. "Oh, Deanna, I miss him, but he has to go his own way."
***
"What in all hell were you thinking, Sela?" Tal'Aura stalked toward her cousin, ignoring the Reman guard who towered behind her. "You said the Empire was decimated. All the reports verified that. Where did these new ships come from so fast?"
Sela shrugged and smiled with pleased irony. "I lied. Well, not really, the Romulan Star Empire is decimated. The Reman Protectorate is not. We just borrowed your ship designs to make it look like a Romulan sanctioned attack." The blonde sat one hip on the edge of the Senate table and absently picked up a data padd. "Combine that with a falsified communiqué from Starfleet ordering the Titan to attack, we created our own little form of negotiations. You even admitted that if it was deemed necessary you would support an attack."
"But it was only to occur if I deemed it necessary, Sela," Tal'Aura shot back jerking the padd from her cousin's hand and tossing it back on the table. "There was no room in my decision for you. The peace talks were progressing rapidly. There was no need to resort to this type of escalation of hostilities!"
Unperturbed by the praetor's ire, Sela stood and helped herself to a glass of the ale which sat in the middle of the table. "Perhaps you did not see the need, but I, being much more forward thinking than you and it seems the rest of the Rihannsu people, did.
"You forced my hand --"
Sela slammed the glass she had been about to fill down on the tabletop. "I forced your hand so that you would do what you know in your heart is right. You have no more love for the people than I do."
"How will we fight the Federation when the people are not with us?" Tal'Aura asked as she raised her hands in helplessness. "It is madness!"
Her cousin smiled and shook her head at Tal'Aura's short-sightedness. Surely she didn't think Sela wouldn't have begun this without the ability to finish it? She had learned countless times over in dealing with the Federation that she had to have the upper hand in order to triumph. "We have developed weapons that you could never imagine, outfitted twenty Warbirds with Shinzon's thalaron device, developed new disruptors that prolong death." She paused, allowing the praetor to absorb her words and all they entailed. After a moment, the understanding Sela had been waiting for appeared in Tal'Aura's dark gaze.
"Yes, I see the spark of interest in your eyes, perhaps you are not immune to the tantalizing promise domination of the Federation brings. These disruptors -- to all medical instruments the victim appears dead, but in reality he continues to live, dying an agonizing, slow death. This is the power that I have harnessed. This was what I wanted to bring to the Empire. Think how these weapons would have trounced the Jem Hadar. The Dominion would be no more. The Federation would be insignificant. We would dominate. Think of our house's glorious rise to the pinnacle of Rihannsu pride."
Tal'Aura felt it, something that no other person had been able achieve. Not Hiren, not Shinzon. It was the promise of familial pride. Restoration of their house to its proper place in the Rihannsu order. No longer forced to curry favor with lecherous old men, relying on her unquenchable ambition to gain her desires. No longer forced to deny her paternity. It wouldn't matter. Together, she and Sela could lift themselves above the petty infighting and create an indomitable empire such that their parents never could have imagined.
It was intriguing. It was seductive. Acceptance danced on the tip of her tongue, the people's desires be damned.
***
"Commander! You are forbidden to enter!" The young sublieutenant stood up from his chair by the door to the Senate chambers and moved to block Donatra's entrance.
"I think not. I am the Commander of the Rihannsu Navy in its entirety. If there is anyone who has unrestricted access to the praetor, it is I. Now get out of my way!"
Donatra shoved the guard aside. Something was wrong, of that there was little doubt. Troi's frustrations over her inability to contact the praetor had set off a warning light for Donatra, but it was not until she had reached the Senate building itself that the Rihannsu commander begun to be concerned herself. It was typical of those in the position of praetor to zealously guard their affairs, but a display such as the one she had just witnessed was unheard of.
She pushed open the doors to the Senate chambers, then, a moment later, wished she hadn't. Donatra stood face to chest with a Reman soldier. Menacing fangs bared down on her as she wrenched herself out of his death grip, shoved her disruptor into his side and fired. The Reman fell to the floor with a thud and Donatra was left staring aghast.
Sela and Tal'Aura, hands joined in agreement. "A wise decision, cousin," Sela said with a pleased grin, "together we will destroy the Federation."
All of Donatra's dreams shattered as Sela's malevolent gaze settled on her. Stunned by Tal'Aura's duplicity, her disruptor slipped, unfelt, from her hand. "It was you," she murmured with disbelief, "you attacked the Titan. You destroyed the hopes of the Rihannsu people. And you," she continued, her eyes moving to Tal'Aura who had pulled away from Sela. "You lied! To all of us!"
"Stupid child," Sela admonished. "There can be no peace between us and the Federation. We are warriors. It is in our blood, our lineage. Peace would only make us weak."
"Have you no respect for your father, Tal'Aura? He died fighting for the dream of peace with the Federation."
"He was a coward," the praetor returned with undisguised loathing. "Instead of staying and fighting for his beliefs here, he defected leaving my mother and me alone, shunned and defenseless -- all for an ideal. So, yes, he died, but in disgrace, not in glory. He brought shame on our house, such shame that my mother and I were forced to leave our home -- the only home I had ever known -- and move to a place that I never wanted." Tal'Aura stalked toward the table and picked up a data padd. Shaking it, she continued, "These peace negotiations were a means to an end. The ultimate goal was restoration of my house -- our house -- now that can be achieved."
"Not this way," Donatra swore. "Not at the expense of my father, nor other fathers who died for the cause and certainly not at the expense of the people. NEVER!" she screamed as she dove to the floor, scooped up her disruptor and vaporized the praetor. The commander turned, her aim targeting Sela and fired. But the blast merely ripped through the green remnants of a transporter beam.
Donatra slammed her fist against the floor. Cold fury coursed through her as she swore, "Sela, you will die by my hand for this treachery."
***
...to be continued...