Sabotage has become a trilogy. Hope you meant it when you said you wanted
another story....
If you haven't yet, you might want to read the first installment to pick up
on nuance, especially w/ PC.
And of course, Paramount = Q = omnipotent = only fun, no profit.
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Sabotage II Chapter Four
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"Will, what is going on here?" Deanna had just spent a very frustrating morning trying to coax and badger explanations from the Captain and the Doctor. Both were in fine form, neither yielding an inch. The refused to say even a word about what had transpired.
Riker sat with Deanna in his cabin, picking at his lunch. Not even their mission could distract him. They were mapping a beautiful, but rather unexciting nebula. The science stations were going full-tilt, but engineering, security and medical were all running dull and perfunctory readiness drills. As soon as Troi had come to him, he knew something was up. He was angry at the Captain for disobeying the Admiral's orders. It put him in a tight spot.
"Will - have you been listening to anything I've said? I'm seriously concerned. I may be forced to recommend that my best friend leave the Enterprise."
He turned his sad blue eyes to her dark brown. "I hear you, Deanna." He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Let me talk to the Captain. I think I may know what this is about."
Offended that Will knew more than she, Troi sat back and crossed her arms. "Well, be sure and let me know what happens, Commander."
"Deanna." Riker leaned forward and took her hand. "Trust me."
She smiled warmly and her eyes sparkled. "Of course Will. I just want to see all of this resolved. I don't feel right being so happy while Beverly is having such a hard time."
Will flashed a trademark smile, full of insider knowledge and mischief. "Well then, I seek an immediate remedy. Nothing should infringe upon your happiness." He stood and took a bow. Laughing, Troi slapped at his arm.
"Get out of here, Will Riker!"
"As you wish." He bent and kissed her forehead before leaving to have words with Picard. The best Captain in the fleet, and he could be an incomparable fool.
*********
He found Picard in his ready room. Ringing the chime, Riker entered, and stood with his hands clasped before him. It was a full minute before Picard turned in his chair to face his first officer.
"I've made a fine mess of things, haven't I?" Picard set down a cup of Earl Grey he'd been clutching to his chest. He bent his head and rubbed at his temples. "I disobeyed a direct order. Beverly won't speak to me, and we are still at the mercy of a suspected traitor. Tell me Will, where does Q come in to snap his fingers and make the world sane again?" There were few times in his life he hoped for an encounter with the annoying being.
Riker sat, trying to find words of consolation. None came. "Sir, what changed after our talk on the Starbase?"
Picard smiled ruefully. "I had a plan, Will. It was sheer folly, and I went forward with it anyway."
Riker sat expectantly. "A plan, sir?"
"I wanted to reconcile with Beverly. I believed that I could enlist her aid to indict Walker and get him off the ship. I've lost 75 crew in two months, and I won't stand to lose anymore while Starfleet stands around waiting for the other shoe to drop." His voice rose at a steady crescendo while he spoke. He finished emphatically, and Riker remained silent.
Now, Picard's pitch was again soft, and his tone defeated. "But I made a mess of it. My timing was poor, and my delivery rotten." He seemed detached from time and space. "But most of all, I seriously misjudged Beverly and the situation. It was a mistake, Will. Personal and professional."
Riker had seen this before - in himself, and in other officers. When you lost people, when your mission failed, when you ignored the rules and it backfired. When your heart was just about broken. He had even seen it before in the great Jean-Luc Picard. It was not a time for coddling.
Riker stood, inhaling and raising himself to his full height. "Sir, you did make a mistake. A big one. And we'll just have to wait and see what the fallout is." He paced toward the desk, and leaned forward, both hands on the surface, close to Picard. "But you are an outstanding officer, as is Doctor Crusher. You are the Captain of this ship, the finest in the fleet. Believe it, and act like it. Find Beverly. Make this right. And let's nail this son of a bitch."
Picard shot up, now nose to nose with Will Riker. For an instant Will thought he'd just lost his job.
"I could relieve you of duty for speaking to me that way, Commander. But it would only compound my problems at the moment." He paused. "Instead, I will have to make due with a simple thank-you."
Riker leaned back, tugged at his uniform, and smiled. "Anytime sir."
"Dismissed, Number One."
Riker inclined his head, turned, and walked out.
Picard slowly walked over to Livingston. "I have my work cut out for me, don't I?"
*********
Jean-Luc needed to give Beverly a day to cool down. Meanwhile, he would not be idle. He was a man of action, and it felt good to be back on the offensive. Will Riker would make a fine captain - hell, he should have had his own commission years ago. Picard had Data investigating every minute of Jack Walker's life, and John Wood's. He asked him to cross reference any and all findings with those from other personnel within Starfleet suspected of involvement with the M'dar. Personally he began investigating the M'dar. Starfleet had moved immediately to open talks with them. The M'dat government claimed full responsibility for the ambush, and vowed to continue the attacks. Starfleet had treated it as an act of war, and immediately blockaded the planet. They were now at a stalemate.
But what had prompted the aggressive actions by the M'dar? For over a century they had been a peaceful settlement. Now they were terrorists? Picard worked to fit together the pieces of the puzzle. First, the Hepa III encounter, and T'shar. Now, Walker and the ambush near the neutral zone. The first attack seemed strategically designed to protect the M'dar investment at Hepa III, to keep their development secret. But the second attack - what was the point? And why were Walker and the other saboteurs still on the ships? Clearly they had not completed their mission. What was next? And why?
*********
Damn that man. Damn him to hell. Would she never be happy while Picard was in her life? When was Beverly going to have a love affair that didn't end in death or deception? She'd immediately gone to Walker after storming from Jean-Luc's quarters. She'd refused to confide in him, and only said that hell would freeze over before she spoke with Picard again. Walker seemed genuinely concerned, and assured Beverly that she would feel better as time passed. He'd said that their friendship had lasted too long to let anything tear it apart now. Walker was so sweet, so loyal, and he really seemed to love her. Clearly any man that could evoke such emotion in her the way Picard could was a threat to what Walker had. But he didn't seem to care, or to feel threatened. He wanted the best for her. And for her to believe in that, to want that, to trust that - was it so bad?
The accusations against Walker were troubling, if not conclusive. She bet Jean-Luc had jumped at them. The perfect ruse - it allowed him to force yet another person from her life without exposing him to any of the damage. Beverly knew he thought none of this consciously. But when was he going to be a man about it, and finally accept responsibility for his actions and his feelings?
Damn him again. Try as she would, she could not get the facts from the padd out of her head. "I took a risk in bringing this to you." Picard had seemed sincere - and above all, professional. If he loved anything, it was his ship, Starfleet. "I trust you implicitly, and I hope you have the same faith in me." Jean-Luc Picard had earned that trust over 25 long years. She trusted Walker, and she cared about him. But she'd known him only weeks. Nearly all her life, she'd turned to Picard, and he to her. Angry, hurt, or lost, it made no difference. Beverly knew that even if she were staring at Picard from the business end of a phaser set at maximum, she would not, for one second, feel any fear. And neither would anyone else on the Enterprise. She had reacted poorly - she hadn't honored that trust.
Deeply saddened for all that she'd lost in the past months, she turned at her desk and activated her terminal. "Computer, pull all available medical files on Lieutenant Jack Walker."
*********
Jack Walker strutted on the bridge, smile on his face. Everything was in place. He'd wait for the signal, plant the weapon, and before anyone knew it, he would be long gone. That technically wasn't part of the M'dar plan, but Walker wasn't about to go down with the ship. His grandma used to like to say she never raised no fools - the Walker clan were survivors.
He glanced down at Riker and Troi, and gave an encouraging smile. The bridge crew seemed down, and he put on a believably conspiratorial face. 'I feel your pain,' he sneered internally. Knowing the situation on the Enterprise, the M'dar had invested in training Jack in various mind control techniques. It kept him safe from the annoying Betazoid woman.
Not that the assignment had been all bad. He'd been paid well, bagged a gorgeous woman for a few weeks, and got to play with the Enterprise weapons. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and after he was done, he'd retire with his remaining family to a distant planet, content to spend his life in paradise.
*********
Despite several distractions, Beverly had been reviewing Walker's files for hours. Nothing had turned up. She was finally to his physical on the Enterprise. "Computer, scan most recent physical of Lieutenant Jack Walker for any anomalies."
"Scan complete. No anomalies found." It confirmed her findings.
Walker had been in earlier to ask about lunch, and she had gone with him. She'd been reserved, but he attributed it to the fight she'd had with Picard. She'd still said nothing about it, and he assumed that the subject was too personal to discuss. Actually, she had been brooding over both men. Had Walker ever done anything suspicious? She couldn't think of anything. If he were a spy, was seducing her part of his plan?
Hours after her lunch, she had been preoccupied with these questions. Now it was past dinner, and she knew Walker would invite her over. She could not stand to be with him - she wanted to be left alone.
"This morning still got you down?"
Beverly started and turned to face Walker. He stood in her office, carefree smile and charming eyes. She clicked her terminal shut and stood, stretching. "I'm afraid so." She gave a crooked grin.
"Well, let me take you away from all that. Come have dinner with me. I've got something special planned."
"Oh Walker." She was genuinely disappointed. Damn it again, Jean-Luc Picard! She came around her desk, setting her hand on his chest. His massive, well muscled chest. "I just can't." She hung her head in defeat.
"I understand Beverly." He kissed the top of her head, and grabbed both of her arms. She looked up at him. "You just let me know when you're feeling better, and we can make up for the lost time together." He winked and smiled.
"Thank you. I'm sorry if you went to a lot of trouble."
"Only trouble is you not bein' around, lady."
His lines could be so cheesy - but somehow, they just worked. Beverly cursed herself, Jean-Luc, and Starfleet one more time for good measure.
"Well then, I guess you wouldn't mind walking me to my quarters?"
"I'd be delighted."
She stripped off her labcoat, and they left sickbay. He gently took her arm in his.
They entered the lift, headed toward deck 8. After a moment it halted, and Picard entered. The trio stood in awkward silence for what seemed to be hours, before finally coming to a stop. Picard stood in front of the couple. He sensed Beverly's stare at his back. He could almost feel daggers of ice on his spine. He cleared his throat as the doors finally swooshed open.
'What a lovely ride' he thought as he quickly exited. Perhaps Beverly would need more than a day to cool off - or warm up to him, he wasn't sure which. Again, he was infuriated with Necheyev for not allowing him to immediately oust Walker. Tactically, keeping him close might be a strong move. Risky, but strong. But Picard was loathe at his inability to protect his crew's safety. Lost in thought, he did not realize he was still standing right outside of the doorway.
"Excuse us, Captain." Crusher's tone was at absolute zero. Picard moved on toward his cabin, never looking back.
*********
After Walker left her quarters, Beverly replicated a meal she picked over, before standing, pacing, and finally sitting again. Dumping the meal in the recycler, she headed back to sickbay. She did not want to be alone with her thoughts.
"Computer, pull up all medical files on Lieutenant Jack Walker." It was time to start the comparisons. There may be nothing to note. It wasn't often that evidence of treason was discovered in medical files. But it kept her mind off other things.
She sat in her office. Sickbay was on night rotation, the lights dim. She could hear her crewmembers moving efficiently about, restocking, running tests. It was soothing. She sighed, sat back from the desk, and ran her hands through her hair. It was a mess, and she had already formed darkening circles under her eyes. Alyssa had been on her way out when Beverly had reappeared. She gave the Doctor a reproachful look. They were all concerned about her, and it showed.
After three hours she had nothing new. She stood again and walked around her small office to re-circulate her blood. She ordered tea, and sat back down.
"Computer, compare most recent medical scan of Lieutenant Walker with the physical I just performed onboard the Enterprise. Look for any anomalies, at even the smallest scale."
Her terminal beeped. "There is one anomaly."
Beverly sat up. "Computer, what's the nature of the finding?"
"Muscle density in the upper left forearm is varied by 2%."
Hardly a red flag. Certainly nothing routine scans would catch. "Computer, what is the origin of that variance?"
"Unknown."
"Computer, speculate."
"Gain of muscle mass. Variance in hydration levels. Presence of a foreign object or objects. Recent Injury."
Beverly interjected. "Computer, stop." Presence of a foreign object? Again, completely circumstantial and inconclusive - but suspicious. "Computer, does Lieutenant Walker have a contraceptive implant?" That information should be in the medical records. But there was no harm in asking. "Negative." Crusher checked her screen. He was not on the medical regimen either. That was a problem. At least she kept up her boosters. Religiously. In any case, the possible foreign object did not have a medical explanation she could find.
"Computer, is the density variance accounted for by a solid mass, or unspecified bulk?"
"There is not enough information to answer that question."
Crusher looked at her chronometer. It was late. Very late. Walker was probably asleep. She could run the scan without waking him, and get rid of all these doubts in her head. Distracted, she grabbed her tricorder and headed out of her office.
She stopped short at the door. There were not the actions of a trusted lover. But above all, she was loyal to the ship and its crew. If something did happen, she'd have to be the one to clean them up. "Computer, override lock. Authorization Crusher two-eight-nine-three."
The door slid open. She nervously fidgeted with the tricorder in her labcoat. The lights were dim. From the bedroom, she could hear Walker breathing. For a moment, she stood still and reconsidered. Then she moved forward. 'Picard, you had damn well better be right.'
*********
Picard could not sleep. He had read all of Taming of the Shrew, and was now well into some of his favorite sonnets. Stiff from sitting, he rose from the couch and paced. He was worried. Worried about his ship, the M'dar, the decisions he'd made, Beverly. Again, he read the padd with the evidence on Walker. Data had uncovered little new evidence, but had found more to corroborate what they already knew. Picard was more and more convinced that he was right. There was more to come from the M'dar, and Walker was somehow tied up in it. Now he worried that he had blown the only shot he had at solving this puzzle, and setting things right with Beverly. He tapped his chest.
"Computer, location of Doctor Crusher?"
"Doctor Crusher is in the quarters of Lieutenant Jack Walker."
He'd asked compulsively, out of guilt. He felt responsible for the current situation. He had not been surprised by the answer, and felt a satisfactory stab at his heart at the response.
*********
Beverly stood directly over Walker as he slept. It was best to be quick, before he could sense her presence. She scanned his arm quickly with the tricorder, not even pausing to see the results as she stalked cat-like from the bedroom. He turned in his sleep and she pivoted behind the dividing wall.
"Beverly?" Walker's voice was thick with sleep. He turned again. Crusher held her breath. She waited just a second. No good. She sensed his wakefulness. She stepped out of the shadows and into the bedroom.
"Walker, hi." She sat on the bedside.
"What's going on? Is something wrong?" He was still partly asleep.
"No - nothing. I just felt bad about missing dinner, and I wanted to come see you. I'm in the middle of an experiment, and I had a minute while the samples were metastasizing."
"Well thank God for metastasization."
She grinned. He was so easy going, funny. "Anyway, I just wanted to say goodnight." Again, she felt at the lump of the tricorder in her pocket. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"Anytime. Good night." Walker mumbled. He was already drifting off again.
Crusher ran a hand through his hair and stood. As calmly as possible, she walked out of the bedroom and the cabin. As the door slid shut, she leaned heavily against the wall and exhaled loudly. A moment later she was headed back to sickbay.
*********
Walker rolled in his sleep again. Beverly had been in his cabin before he'd called to her. She'd been behind the wall before stepping into the bedroom. Something wasn't right. It was only a feeling, but you could get killed for ignoring your feelings. He'd get to the bottom of it in the morning. That woman was up to something, and he needed to know what.
*********
She docked the tricorder and downloaded the data. Whatever accounted for the increased density in Walker's arm was not a solid object, nor had it dissipated. A group of cells was uniquely clustered in the area. Their behavior was odd - it did not follow usual organic patters. The cell composition appeared unchanged, but she had no physical samples, and was unable to study them at an ideal level. But the cluster was not random. The behavior was not organic. She didn't know what it was, but it wasn't right. And it did not match the scans from Walker's previous physical.
"Computer, time."
"Current time is 01:32"
"Computer, location of Captain Picard?"
"Captain Picard is in his quarters."
Beverly's jaw was set, and her eyes steely. Again, she grabbed the tricorder, and a padd, and stalked out of sickbay. The on-duty attendant shook his head. That woman was inexplicable.
*********
For the second time that night, she stood in the corridor, uncertain, hesitant. She was exhausted. Her first round with Jean-Luc that morning had left her wiped out. Not she just felt hollow. She was angry - at Jean-Luc, at Walker, at herself. It was a blow to her pride, coming to Jean-Luc this way. He would not revel in it, but it hurt nonetheless. She stopped short of pondering whether they would even be able to patch their friendship back together. For now, the important thing was the ship - and stopping Walker and the M'dar. The lights were dim and the ship hummed. The corridor was silent. Drawing a deep breath in, she stepped forward to ring the chime.
Picard looked up, startled. He had abandoned Shakespeare, and had been sitting quietly for a while observing the stars. He swiped his face with his palm as he stood to face the door. "Come."
And there she stood before him, beautiful, radiant (actually she seemed tired and defeated - but he was simply glad to see her). Picard could not have been more surprised. "Beverly?" He asked softly, the question in his eyes and heart.
"Captain, I have information I believe you should be aware of." Crusher's posture was rigid as she strode toward him. Brusquely, she handed him the padd with Walker's medical scans.
"I began looking more closely at Lieutenant Walker's medical records this morning."
Picard could not help but feel an internal surge of joy and pride. Crusher seemed cold, distant as she talked to him now. But his words had hit home. She had trusted him. He continued to read, not trusting himself to meet her eyes. A smile was not what she wanted to see.
"This afternoon I discovered a curious anomaly in his scans from last year to this. Unable to account for the increased density in the cell structure of his left arm, I ran a follow-up test on the subject, and discovered the unusual cell cluster."
Picard looked up. "Is Lieutenant Walker aware of the second scan, and the reasons behind it?" Beverly walked past him to the windows and looked out at the stars. "No. He was sleeping when I did it." Her tone was resigned, sorrowful.
"Beverly." She remained motionless. "Dr. Crusher - what is your conclusion from these findings?"
She whipped around. "My conclusion, Captain," fire shot from her eyes and her voice was loud and thin "my conclusion is that my lover is a traitorous bastard who plans on blowing up the ship!" She stood, ramrod straight and almost shaking. Now her expression was desperate, and she choked back an angry sob. "And just what do you plan to do about all of this Jean-Luc? You made this mess, now fix it!" She walked toward him and now stood directly in front of him, and accusing finger drilling into his chest. Gently, he took her hand and placed it at her side.
Almost bemused, he spoke, calmly. "I intend to, Doctor. But I need your help." His relief was almost something tangible to him. He could feel the momentum of the entire situation swinging back his way. He almost felt sorry for Walker. Almost.
She nodded silently and turned. She was crying now. She walked away from him and into the bathroom to regain her composure. This was Jean-Luc's fault. If he'd just found her and talked to her that morning after their dinner, there would have been none of this. Who knows where they would be. A small voice told her she was just as culpable, but it felt better to pawn it off on Jean-Luc. It made Walker's betrayal somehow less personal. But Picard had been taken in too, but Emma Dumonde. He knew how it felt to be betrayed, and played for a fool. In her heart Beverly forgave him. But she wasn't about to just let him off the hook.
She splashed some cold water on her face and wiped it off with a towel from the counter. She stared at her haggard countenance for a moment, and took another deep breath. 'The worst part is over,' she told the woman looking back. Taking another breath, her anger began to rise. Just who the hell did Jack Walker think he was? He had a lot to learn about Beverly Howard Crusher. And she intended he would get the whole lesson - unabridged.
Turning, she pulled a tie from her pocket and gathered up her hair as she walked back into the living room. She was done being a victim. Now it was time to lay down a plan. She caught Picard's eye as he returned from the replicator, tea in hand. Her look was even and challenging.
"Got something there for me too, Jean-Luc? Or do you always ignore your thirsty guests?"
Her tone was mocking. He heaved a great sigh internally, and did his best not to smile. Old habits died hard. "And what would the lady be having this evening?"
"Tea would be fine. Herbal, please." She sat at the couch, elbows on her knees. "You're on a furlough, Jean-Luc. I'm still mad as hell at how this has all turned out. And at you." Her gaze was intense. Picard found he cared about little more than hearing her say his name. A weight he'd been feeling for weeks was beginning to lift, almost as she appeared at his door.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Beverly. Whether you like it or not, we're in the same camp." He returned with her tea and sat down opposite. She took it from him and sat back, suspiciously regarding him.
"I want to get him, Jean-Luc. First that woman, and now this. I'm beginning to develop a personal dislike for the M'dar." She leaned forward and placed her cup back on the table.
"Well then, on that we can agree." It was an entry point for negotiation.
Beverly sat quietly, reflecting. They were still a long way from fine. There was a tension between them, and Beverly's anger at Walker and Picard radiated from her heart. It didn't allow a lot of room for anything else. But now that she and Picard were speaking again, she secretly had faith that whatever happened would be fine - they would get through it together, as friends, as a crew, as a family.
"Now then, Jean-Luc, where were we?"
*********
Jack Walker had not reckoned on dealing with the combined forces of an angry Jean-Luc Picard and Beverly Crusher. After all, he'd worked so hard to keep them apart, as had T'shar. But, as he was soon to learn, there were factors he hadn't accounted for. The USS Enterprise always had amazing luck - and her crew made a habit of surprising you.
*********
END
*********
You know it ain't easy
You got to hold on
She was an unknown legend in her time
Now she's dressin' two kids
Lookin' for a magic kiss
She gets the far-away look in her eyes.
Somewhere on a desert highway
She rides a Harley-Davidson
Her long blonde hair flyin' in the wind
She's been runnin' half her life
The chrome and steel she rides
Collidin' with the very air she breathes
The air she breathes.
"Unknown Legend" - Neil Young - Harvest Moon - www.neilyoung.com
*********
And of course, Paramount = Q = omnipotent = only fun, no profit.
**********
Sabotage II Chapter Four
**********
"Will, what is going on here?" Deanna had just spent a very frustrating morning trying to coax and badger explanations from the Captain and the Doctor. Both were in fine form, neither yielding an inch. The refused to say even a word about what had transpired.
Riker sat with Deanna in his cabin, picking at his lunch. Not even their mission could distract him. They were mapping a beautiful, but rather unexciting nebula. The science stations were going full-tilt, but engineering, security and medical were all running dull and perfunctory readiness drills. As soon as Troi had come to him, he knew something was up. He was angry at the Captain for disobeying the Admiral's orders. It put him in a tight spot.
"Will - have you been listening to anything I've said? I'm seriously concerned. I may be forced to recommend that my best friend leave the Enterprise."
He turned his sad blue eyes to her dark brown. "I hear you, Deanna." He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Let me talk to the Captain. I think I may know what this is about."
Offended that Will knew more than she, Troi sat back and crossed her arms. "Well, be sure and let me know what happens, Commander."
"Deanna." Riker leaned forward and took her hand. "Trust me."
She smiled warmly and her eyes sparkled. "Of course Will. I just want to see all of this resolved. I don't feel right being so happy while Beverly is having such a hard time."
Will flashed a trademark smile, full of insider knowledge and mischief. "Well then, I seek an immediate remedy. Nothing should infringe upon your happiness." He stood and took a bow. Laughing, Troi slapped at his arm.
"Get out of here, Will Riker!"
"As you wish." He bent and kissed her forehead before leaving to have words with Picard. The best Captain in the fleet, and he could be an incomparable fool.
*********
He found Picard in his ready room. Ringing the chime, Riker entered, and stood with his hands clasped before him. It was a full minute before Picard turned in his chair to face his first officer.
"I've made a fine mess of things, haven't I?" Picard set down a cup of Earl Grey he'd been clutching to his chest. He bent his head and rubbed at his temples. "I disobeyed a direct order. Beverly won't speak to me, and we are still at the mercy of a suspected traitor. Tell me Will, where does Q come in to snap his fingers and make the world sane again?" There were few times in his life he hoped for an encounter with the annoying being.
Riker sat, trying to find words of consolation. None came. "Sir, what changed after our talk on the Starbase?"
Picard smiled ruefully. "I had a plan, Will. It was sheer folly, and I went forward with it anyway."
Riker sat expectantly. "A plan, sir?"
"I wanted to reconcile with Beverly. I believed that I could enlist her aid to indict Walker and get him off the ship. I've lost 75 crew in two months, and I won't stand to lose anymore while Starfleet stands around waiting for the other shoe to drop." His voice rose at a steady crescendo while he spoke. He finished emphatically, and Riker remained silent.
Now, Picard's pitch was again soft, and his tone defeated. "But I made a mess of it. My timing was poor, and my delivery rotten." He seemed detached from time and space. "But most of all, I seriously misjudged Beverly and the situation. It was a mistake, Will. Personal and professional."
Riker had seen this before - in himself, and in other officers. When you lost people, when your mission failed, when you ignored the rules and it backfired. When your heart was just about broken. He had even seen it before in the great Jean-Luc Picard. It was not a time for coddling.
Riker stood, inhaling and raising himself to his full height. "Sir, you did make a mistake. A big one. And we'll just have to wait and see what the fallout is." He paced toward the desk, and leaned forward, both hands on the surface, close to Picard. "But you are an outstanding officer, as is Doctor Crusher. You are the Captain of this ship, the finest in the fleet. Believe it, and act like it. Find Beverly. Make this right. And let's nail this son of a bitch."
Picard shot up, now nose to nose with Will Riker. For an instant Will thought he'd just lost his job.
"I could relieve you of duty for speaking to me that way, Commander. But it would only compound my problems at the moment." He paused. "Instead, I will have to make due with a simple thank-you."
Riker leaned back, tugged at his uniform, and smiled. "Anytime sir."
"Dismissed, Number One."
Riker inclined his head, turned, and walked out.
Picard slowly walked over to Livingston. "I have my work cut out for me, don't I?"
*********
Jean-Luc needed to give Beverly a day to cool down. Meanwhile, he would not be idle. He was a man of action, and it felt good to be back on the offensive. Will Riker would make a fine captain - hell, he should have had his own commission years ago. Picard had Data investigating every minute of Jack Walker's life, and John Wood's. He asked him to cross reference any and all findings with those from other personnel within Starfleet suspected of involvement with the M'dar. Personally he began investigating the M'dar. Starfleet had moved immediately to open talks with them. The M'dat government claimed full responsibility for the ambush, and vowed to continue the attacks. Starfleet had treated it as an act of war, and immediately blockaded the planet. They were now at a stalemate.
But what had prompted the aggressive actions by the M'dar? For over a century they had been a peaceful settlement. Now they were terrorists? Picard worked to fit together the pieces of the puzzle. First, the Hepa III encounter, and T'shar. Now, Walker and the ambush near the neutral zone. The first attack seemed strategically designed to protect the M'dar investment at Hepa III, to keep their development secret. But the second attack - what was the point? And why were Walker and the other saboteurs still on the ships? Clearly they had not completed their mission. What was next? And why?
*********
Damn that man. Damn him to hell. Would she never be happy while Picard was in her life? When was Beverly going to have a love affair that didn't end in death or deception? She'd immediately gone to Walker after storming from Jean-Luc's quarters. She'd refused to confide in him, and only said that hell would freeze over before she spoke with Picard again. Walker seemed genuinely concerned, and assured Beverly that she would feel better as time passed. He'd said that their friendship had lasted too long to let anything tear it apart now. Walker was so sweet, so loyal, and he really seemed to love her. Clearly any man that could evoke such emotion in her the way Picard could was a threat to what Walker had. But he didn't seem to care, or to feel threatened. He wanted the best for her. And for her to believe in that, to want that, to trust that - was it so bad?
The accusations against Walker were troubling, if not conclusive. She bet Jean-Luc had jumped at them. The perfect ruse - it allowed him to force yet another person from her life without exposing him to any of the damage. Beverly knew he thought none of this consciously. But when was he going to be a man about it, and finally accept responsibility for his actions and his feelings?
Damn him again. Try as she would, she could not get the facts from the padd out of her head. "I took a risk in bringing this to you." Picard had seemed sincere - and above all, professional. If he loved anything, it was his ship, Starfleet. "I trust you implicitly, and I hope you have the same faith in me." Jean-Luc Picard had earned that trust over 25 long years. She trusted Walker, and she cared about him. But she'd known him only weeks. Nearly all her life, she'd turned to Picard, and he to her. Angry, hurt, or lost, it made no difference. Beverly knew that even if she were staring at Picard from the business end of a phaser set at maximum, she would not, for one second, feel any fear. And neither would anyone else on the Enterprise. She had reacted poorly - she hadn't honored that trust.
Deeply saddened for all that she'd lost in the past months, she turned at her desk and activated her terminal. "Computer, pull all available medical files on Lieutenant Jack Walker."
*********
Jack Walker strutted on the bridge, smile on his face. Everything was in place. He'd wait for the signal, plant the weapon, and before anyone knew it, he would be long gone. That technically wasn't part of the M'dar plan, but Walker wasn't about to go down with the ship. His grandma used to like to say she never raised no fools - the Walker clan were survivors.
He glanced down at Riker and Troi, and gave an encouraging smile. The bridge crew seemed down, and he put on a believably conspiratorial face. 'I feel your pain,' he sneered internally. Knowing the situation on the Enterprise, the M'dar had invested in training Jack in various mind control techniques. It kept him safe from the annoying Betazoid woman.
Not that the assignment had been all bad. He'd been paid well, bagged a gorgeous woman for a few weeks, and got to play with the Enterprise weapons. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and after he was done, he'd retire with his remaining family to a distant planet, content to spend his life in paradise.
*********
Despite several distractions, Beverly had been reviewing Walker's files for hours. Nothing had turned up. She was finally to his physical on the Enterprise. "Computer, scan most recent physical of Lieutenant Jack Walker for any anomalies."
"Scan complete. No anomalies found." It confirmed her findings.
Walker had been in earlier to ask about lunch, and she had gone with him. She'd been reserved, but he attributed it to the fight she'd had with Picard. She'd still said nothing about it, and he assumed that the subject was too personal to discuss. Actually, she had been brooding over both men. Had Walker ever done anything suspicious? She couldn't think of anything. If he were a spy, was seducing her part of his plan?
Hours after her lunch, she had been preoccupied with these questions. Now it was past dinner, and she knew Walker would invite her over. She could not stand to be with him - she wanted to be left alone.
"This morning still got you down?"
Beverly started and turned to face Walker. He stood in her office, carefree smile and charming eyes. She clicked her terminal shut and stood, stretching. "I'm afraid so." She gave a crooked grin.
"Well, let me take you away from all that. Come have dinner with me. I've got something special planned."
"Oh Walker." She was genuinely disappointed. Damn it again, Jean-Luc Picard! She came around her desk, setting her hand on his chest. His massive, well muscled chest. "I just can't." She hung her head in defeat.
"I understand Beverly." He kissed the top of her head, and grabbed both of her arms. She looked up at him. "You just let me know when you're feeling better, and we can make up for the lost time together." He winked and smiled.
"Thank you. I'm sorry if you went to a lot of trouble."
"Only trouble is you not bein' around, lady."
His lines could be so cheesy - but somehow, they just worked. Beverly cursed herself, Jean-Luc, and Starfleet one more time for good measure.
"Well then, I guess you wouldn't mind walking me to my quarters?"
"I'd be delighted."
She stripped off her labcoat, and they left sickbay. He gently took her arm in his.
They entered the lift, headed toward deck 8. After a moment it halted, and Picard entered. The trio stood in awkward silence for what seemed to be hours, before finally coming to a stop. Picard stood in front of the couple. He sensed Beverly's stare at his back. He could almost feel daggers of ice on his spine. He cleared his throat as the doors finally swooshed open.
'What a lovely ride' he thought as he quickly exited. Perhaps Beverly would need more than a day to cool off - or warm up to him, he wasn't sure which. Again, he was infuriated with Necheyev for not allowing him to immediately oust Walker. Tactically, keeping him close might be a strong move. Risky, but strong. But Picard was loathe at his inability to protect his crew's safety. Lost in thought, he did not realize he was still standing right outside of the doorway.
"Excuse us, Captain." Crusher's tone was at absolute zero. Picard moved on toward his cabin, never looking back.
*********
After Walker left her quarters, Beverly replicated a meal she picked over, before standing, pacing, and finally sitting again. Dumping the meal in the recycler, she headed back to sickbay. She did not want to be alone with her thoughts.
"Computer, pull up all medical files on Lieutenant Jack Walker." It was time to start the comparisons. There may be nothing to note. It wasn't often that evidence of treason was discovered in medical files. But it kept her mind off other things.
She sat in her office. Sickbay was on night rotation, the lights dim. She could hear her crewmembers moving efficiently about, restocking, running tests. It was soothing. She sighed, sat back from the desk, and ran her hands through her hair. It was a mess, and she had already formed darkening circles under her eyes. Alyssa had been on her way out when Beverly had reappeared. She gave the Doctor a reproachful look. They were all concerned about her, and it showed.
After three hours she had nothing new. She stood again and walked around her small office to re-circulate her blood. She ordered tea, and sat back down.
"Computer, compare most recent medical scan of Lieutenant Walker with the physical I just performed onboard the Enterprise. Look for any anomalies, at even the smallest scale."
Her terminal beeped. "There is one anomaly."
Beverly sat up. "Computer, what's the nature of the finding?"
"Muscle density in the upper left forearm is varied by 2%."
Hardly a red flag. Certainly nothing routine scans would catch. "Computer, what is the origin of that variance?"
"Unknown."
"Computer, speculate."
"Gain of muscle mass. Variance in hydration levels. Presence of a foreign object or objects. Recent Injury."
Beverly interjected. "Computer, stop." Presence of a foreign object? Again, completely circumstantial and inconclusive - but suspicious. "Computer, does Lieutenant Walker have a contraceptive implant?" That information should be in the medical records. But there was no harm in asking. "Negative." Crusher checked her screen. He was not on the medical regimen either. That was a problem. At least she kept up her boosters. Religiously. In any case, the possible foreign object did not have a medical explanation she could find.
"Computer, is the density variance accounted for by a solid mass, or unspecified bulk?"
"There is not enough information to answer that question."
Crusher looked at her chronometer. It was late. Very late. Walker was probably asleep. She could run the scan without waking him, and get rid of all these doubts in her head. Distracted, she grabbed her tricorder and headed out of her office.
She stopped short at the door. There were not the actions of a trusted lover. But above all, she was loyal to the ship and its crew. If something did happen, she'd have to be the one to clean them up. "Computer, override lock. Authorization Crusher two-eight-nine-three."
The door slid open. She nervously fidgeted with the tricorder in her labcoat. The lights were dim. From the bedroom, she could hear Walker breathing. For a moment, she stood still and reconsidered. Then she moved forward. 'Picard, you had damn well better be right.'
*********
Picard could not sleep. He had read all of Taming of the Shrew, and was now well into some of his favorite sonnets. Stiff from sitting, he rose from the couch and paced. He was worried. Worried about his ship, the M'dar, the decisions he'd made, Beverly. Again, he read the padd with the evidence on Walker. Data had uncovered little new evidence, but had found more to corroborate what they already knew. Picard was more and more convinced that he was right. There was more to come from the M'dar, and Walker was somehow tied up in it. Now he worried that he had blown the only shot he had at solving this puzzle, and setting things right with Beverly. He tapped his chest.
"Computer, location of Doctor Crusher?"
"Doctor Crusher is in the quarters of Lieutenant Jack Walker."
He'd asked compulsively, out of guilt. He felt responsible for the current situation. He had not been surprised by the answer, and felt a satisfactory stab at his heart at the response.
*********
Beverly stood directly over Walker as he slept. It was best to be quick, before he could sense her presence. She scanned his arm quickly with the tricorder, not even pausing to see the results as she stalked cat-like from the bedroom. He turned in his sleep and she pivoted behind the dividing wall.
"Beverly?" Walker's voice was thick with sleep. He turned again. Crusher held her breath. She waited just a second. No good. She sensed his wakefulness. She stepped out of the shadows and into the bedroom.
"Walker, hi." She sat on the bedside.
"What's going on? Is something wrong?" He was still partly asleep.
"No - nothing. I just felt bad about missing dinner, and I wanted to come see you. I'm in the middle of an experiment, and I had a minute while the samples were metastasizing."
"Well thank God for metastasization."
She grinned. He was so easy going, funny. "Anyway, I just wanted to say goodnight." Again, she felt at the lump of the tricorder in her pocket. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
"Anytime. Good night." Walker mumbled. He was already drifting off again.
Crusher ran a hand through his hair and stood. As calmly as possible, she walked out of the bedroom and the cabin. As the door slid shut, she leaned heavily against the wall and exhaled loudly. A moment later she was headed back to sickbay.
*********
Walker rolled in his sleep again. Beverly had been in his cabin before he'd called to her. She'd been behind the wall before stepping into the bedroom. Something wasn't right. It was only a feeling, but you could get killed for ignoring your feelings. He'd get to the bottom of it in the morning. That woman was up to something, and he needed to know what.
*********
She docked the tricorder and downloaded the data. Whatever accounted for the increased density in Walker's arm was not a solid object, nor had it dissipated. A group of cells was uniquely clustered in the area. Their behavior was odd - it did not follow usual organic patters. The cell composition appeared unchanged, but she had no physical samples, and was unable to study them at an ideal level. But the cluster was not random. The behavior was not organic. She didn't know what it was, but it wasn't right. And it did not match the scans from Walker's previous physical.
"Computer, time."
"Current time is 01:32"
"Computer, location of Captain Picard?"
"Captain Picard is in his quarters."
Beverly's jaw was set, and her eyes steely. Again, she grabbed the tricorder, and a padd, and stalked out of sickbay. The on-duty attendant shook his head. That woman was inexplicable.
*********
For the second time that night, she stood in the corridor, uncertain, hesitant. She was exhausted. Her first round with Jean-Luc that morning had left her wiped out. Not she just felt hollow. She was angry - at Jean-Luc, at Walker, at herself. It was a blow to her pride, coming to Jean-Luc this way. He would not revel in it, but it hurt nonetheless. She stopped short of pondering whether they would even be able to patch their friendship back together. For now, the important thing was the ship - and stopping Walker and the M'dar. The lights were dim and the ship hummed. The corridor was silent. Drawing a deep breath in, she stepped forward to ring the chime.
Picard looked up, startled. He had abandoned Shakespeare, and had been sitting quietly for a while observing the stars. He swiped his face with his palm as he stood to face the door. "Come."
And there she stood before him, beautiful, radiant (actually she seemed tired and defeated - but he was simply glad to see her). Picard could not have been more surprised. "Beverly?" He asked softly, the question in his eyes and heart.
"Captain, I have information I believe you should be aware of." Crusher's posture was rigid as she strode toward him. Brusquely, she handed him the padd with Walker's medical scans.
"I began looking more closely at Lieutenant Walker's medical records this morning."
Picard could not help but feel an internal surge of joy and pride. Crusher seemed cold, distant as she talked to him now. But his words had hit home. She had trusted him. He continued to read, not trusting himself to meet her eyes. A smile was not what she wanted to see.
"This afternoon I discovered a curious anomaly in his scans from last year to this. Unable to account for the increased density in the cell structure of his left arm, I ran a follow-up test on the subject, and discovered the unusual cell cluster."
Picard looked up. "Is Lieutenant Walker aware of the second scan, and the reasons behind it?" Beverly walked past him to the windows and looked out at the stars. "No. He was sleeping when I did it." Her tone was resigned, sorrowful.
"Beverly." She remained motionless. "Dr. Crusher - what is your conclusion from these findings?"
She whipped around. "My conclusion, Captain," fire shot from her eyes and her voice was loud and thin "my conclusion is that my lover is a traitorous bastard who plans on blowing up the ship!" She stood, ramrod straight and almost shaking. Now her expression was desperate, and she choked back an angry sob. "And just what do you plan to do about all of this Jean-Luc? You made this mess, now fix it!" She walked toward him and now stood directly in front of him, and accusing finger drilling into his chest. Gently, he took her hand and placed it at her side.
Almost bemused, he spoke, calmly. "I intend to, Doctor. But I need your help." His relief was almost something tangible to him. He could feel the momentum of the entire situation swinging back his way. He almost felt sorry for Walker. Almost.
She nodded silently and turned. She was crying now. She walked away from him and into the bathroom to regain her composure. This was Jean-Luc's fault. If he'd just found her and talked to her that morning after their dinner, there would have been none of this. Who knows where they would be. A small voice told her she was just as culpable, but it felt better to pawn it off on Jean-Luc. It made Walker's betrayal somehow less personal. But Picard had been taken in too, but Emma Dumonde. He knew how it felt to be betrayed, and played for a fool. In her heart Beverly forgave him. But she wasn't about to just let him off the hook.
She splashed some cold water on her face and wiped it off with a towel from the counter. She stared at her haggard countenance for a moment, and took another deep breath. 'The worst part is over,' she told the woman looking back. Taking another breath, her anger began to rise. Just who the hell did Jack Walker think he was? He had a lot to learn about Beverly Howard Crusher. And she intended he would get the whole lesson - unabridged.
Turning, she pulled a tie from her pocket and gathered up her hair as she walked back into the living room. She was done being a victim. Now it was time to lay down a plan. She caught Picard's eye as he returned from the replicator, tea in hand. Her look was even and challenging.
"Got something there for me too, Jean-Luc? Or do you always ignore your thirsty guests?"
Her tone was mocking. He heaved a great sigh internally, and did his best not to smile. Old habits died hard. "And what would the lady be having this evening?"
"Tea would be fine. Herbal, please." She sat at the couch, elbows on her knees. "You're on a furlough, Jean-Luc. I'm still mad as hell at how this has all turned out. And at you." Her gaze was intense. Picard found he cared about little more than hearing her say his name. A weight he'd been feeling for weeks was beginning to lift, almost as she appeared at his door.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Beverly. Whether you like it or not, we're in the same camp." He returned with her tea and sat down opposite. She took it from him and sat back, suspiciously regarding him.
"I want to get him, Jean-Luc. First that woman, and now this. I'm beginning to develop a personal dislike for the M'dar." She leaned forward and placed her cup back on the table.
"Well then, on that we can agree." It was an entry point for negotiation.
Beverly sat quietly, reflecting. They were still a long way from fine. There was a tension between them, and Beverly's anger at Walker and Picard radiated from her heart. It didn't allow a lot of room for anything else. But now that she and Picard were speaking again, she secretly had faith that whatever happened would be fine - they would get through it together, as friends, as a crew, as a family.
"Now then, Jean-Luc, where were we?"
*********
Jack Walker had not reckoned on dealing with the combined forces of an angry Jean-Luc Picard and Beverly Crusher. After all, he'd worked so hard to keep them apart, as had T'shar. But, as he was soon to learn, there were factors he hadn't accounted for. The USS Enterprise always had amazing luck - and her crew made a habit of surprising you.
*********
END
*********
You know it ain't easy
You got to hold on
She was an unknown legend in her time
Now she's dressin' two kids
Lookin' for a magic kiss
She gets the far-away look in her eyes.
Somewhere on a desert highway
She rides a Harley-Davidson
Her long blonde hair flyin' in the wind
She's been runnin' half her life
The chrome and steel she rides
Collidin' with the very air she breathes
The air she breathes.
"Unknown Legend" - Neil Young - Harvest Moon - www.neilyoung.com
*********