Chapter Six
The doors of Picard's ready room hissed shut behind Wesley. Picard slid behind his desk with typical automaton fluidity. Wesley stood awkwardly in front of the captain's desk.
"Let me make this perfectly clear. Another outburst like that in front of a hostile and I will have you stripped of your rank. You're smarter than that, Mister Crusher, and I don't have the time or patience to school you on my bridge. You are in every way an officer of my bridge crew and you will conduct yourself accordingly. Understood?"
Wesley blanched. "Yes, sir," he whispered, wincing as if struck.
"I am lenient with you now because this is a new situation for you: being requested to negotiate, and being a catalyst, albeit unwilling, in an unanticipated situation. Besides, your reaction, strangely enough, seems to have defused the situation. Beyond that, I would be hypocrite in chastising you for losing your temper before that infuriating girl."
Wesley would have smiled at that if he had not been smarting so severely from his dressing-down.
"Now. I know in negotiations we must assume that these children would be diplomatic and treat you fairly, and I know that you have recently exceeded the minimum age of a diplomat, but we know nearly nothing about their ship or technology or what their plans may be. I have no intention of sending you over to their ship, much less alone, to deal with them. It is not that I doubt you in any way, or that I am holding your little outburst against you and denying you this mission as punishment. I cannot allow this at all, nor at this point would I even send Commander Riker, Data and Worf over there all three together."
"I understand, sir, but..." Wesley shifted from one foot to the other, "permission to speak freely?"
"Granted."
Wesley's pose relaxed from a stiff attention. He took a deep breath, hesitating to make the greatest sacrifice he could imagine. He knew when he joined Starfleet that it could very possibly take his life one day. He knew, better than most, the risks of a Starfleet career. He just didn't think it would come so soon. "I know you're just watching out for me, and I know that there are times when a crew member must be sacrificed for the greater good of the ship--"
"Wesley--" Picard held up his hand to stop the speech he knew was coming, but Wesley pressed on.
"--but I am only an ensign, and a non-commissioned one, too. And I know that," Wesley hesitated to bring it up, "that you feel you have to watch out for me, because my father died under your command too--"
"Wesley."
Wes took a sharp breath, trying to get his whole thought out before Picard stopped him, "--but that wasn't your fault, I know that now. And it won't be your fault if I die. I mean, it would be much better than losing the entire Enterprise, right? And maybe they won't kill me. Maybe I can get them to leave us alone. Maybe they really do just want to negotiate with someone closer to their own age. Or even if they do take me, or if they... kill me, at least it wouldn't be a thousand passengers on a--"
"Mister Crusher!" Wesley fell silent. "I admire your courage, Mister Crusher, but we don't know that sacrificing you will save the Enterprise. Perhaps they believe that with you out of the way, they can more easily destroy us. Or perhaps they wish to save you and do away with the rest of us, keeping you unharmed because you are a ch-- a young person as they are. Perhaps your negotiations won't succeed and they'll choose to battle regardless of your efforts." Wesley opened his mouth to protest, but Picard continued, "Before you go heroically and melodramatically casting yourself in the path of danger, Mister Crusher, let us be certain it is the correct path."
Wes blushed and whispered, "Aye, sir."
Despite valiant efforts to the contrary, Picard had come to regard Wesley almost as a son. He wondered if he might have handled the situation differently if it were any other boy, and was afraid there might be some subtle differences. Perhaps Wesley was right in that he felt his old friend Jack Crusher would have wanted him to watch out for his son. Regardless, Picard was inwardly relieved that he had found so many reasons to keep Wesley safely on the Enterprise.
Wes couldn't help being relieved as well, though the two showed no physical indication of their common emotion. They had enough left to worry about to almost nullify relief.
The commlink twinkled, "Yar to Picard."
Picard's eyes widened. Wesley nearly fell down. The voice and name both beloned to Chief of Security Natasha Yar, who had been dead for over three years.
"Tasha?" Wesley whispered.
"Computer," Picard was sure he'd heard wrong. "Repeat, please."
But the communication was clear.
After a pause, Picard decided to play along. "Yes, lieutenant."
"Sir, request permission to enter your ready room."
Crusher and Picard looked at each other. Picard decided to try a few things. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Natasha Yar."
"Lieutenant Natasha Yar is deceased."
"Picard to Riker."
"Riker here."
"Number One, is there anyone standing outside my ready room door?"
"No, sir," Riker's voice now came through the commlink. "May I ask why, sir?"
"I'll explain later, Number One." Picard tried playing along again. "Permission granted, Lieutenant Yar."
The ready room doors hissed open and Lieutenant Tasha Yar walked in. Now Wesley did fall over. He backed up into a chair, fell over it and landed on his tailbone in front of the captain's desk, still staring wide- eyed at the ghost of his old friend standing before him. Tasha looked down at him.
"Are you quite all right?" she asked with raised eyebrows, as if inconvenienced by the young man's presence, rather than out of genuine concern for his welfare. She seemed rather un-Tasha-like.
Wes picked himself up, not taking his eyes off her, "S-sure, I'm f- fine."
Picard forced himself to release his clenched jaw. He breathed, trying to prepare himself to speak evenly. "Yes, lieutenant?"
How in hell is he keeping so calm? Wes thought as he tried to control his own rising panic.
"Sir, I have information on the children. They are prepared to leave us alone completely if you release this boy to them."
"Surely you are not suggesting I hand over a crew member to a hostile, then turn tail and run," Picard knew that in life, Tasha would have fought against unbeatable odds to save a person rather than lose them in negotiations.
"No, sir, it's not like that at all. They are not hostile, and they don't threaten us. They just want Crusher. Once they have him, they will leave. And we don't need to run from anyone. And... with all due respect, sir, Wesley's just the son of the ship's doctor."
And one of your very best friends, Wes thought, hurt by Tasha's coldness.
"He's not a crew member."
Wesley had a dawning. He had been an ensign on the Enterprise for three years, and an acting ensign before that. But all of these promotions took place after Tasha Yar had died.
Wesley looked to Picard for instructions, wondering if that same thought had occurred to him.
Picard caught his eye, "You're dismissed, Ensign." Picard glanced at Tasha for a reaction to calling Wesley by his rank. She gave none.
Wesley didn't even suffer an "aye sir" but just ran out.
* * *
Back on the bridge, Wesley ran right over to Riker, who had stood upon the disconcerted ensign's entrance. Billy Nolan was indifferent about Wes's return, for when nothing imperative was happening on the Aft Engineering monitors, he'd requested that Lieutenant LaForge take his place at Conn. Geordi happily complied, spreading his fingers across the console of his old position before his promotion, and Billy could breathe again.
"Report, ensign," Riker realized that was an unnecessary command. Wesley was already spilling information at warp nine-point-one.
"Commander, Tasha's in there! I mean, something that looks and acts and sounds like Tasha is in there talking to Captain Picard and she--"
"What?" Riker narrowed his eyes at the ensign.
Every crew member on the bridge forgot to be discreet about listening in and turned to look.
"Tasha was in there with the captain. She still could be, I don't know. But it's a ghost or something. And she wanted to just beam me over to the Neverland and run away!"
"Tasha Yar?" Riker still didn't grasp the concept. Wesley nodded. "Our Tasha Yar?" Wesley nodded again. "The one who's dead?"
"Yes," Wesley sighed, getting impatient.
Worf had gotten over his initial shock, which is never very severe in a Klingon. "That is not Tasha. Tasha would fight for a Starfleet officer."
"That's just it!" Wesley strode over to the center seat just below the aft rail and looked up at the Klingon. "She doesn't know I'm an officer! She thinks I'm still just one of the families aboard!"
Riker had regained his senses. "It can't be just any life form imitating Tasha. Anything biological can hardly sneak aboard the Enterprise. Why am I again thinking of Q?"
"And she didn't seem to like me very much," Wesley's voice lowered a notch in volume.
Data had turned slightly to listen to the conversation, but now he stared at the ready room door and disregarded his console for a moment. There was a distinct possibility that Tasha was in there, and he wasn't certain how to react to that. Certainly if he were capable of emotion, his emotions would be a turmoil. But as one who had a very special and intimate relationship with Tasha that included no real emotions whatsoever on his part, how should he react? There was something within him that seemed disturbing, something that might be a distant relative of sadness. Inasmuch as he could, Data had grown accustomed to Tasha, and he missed her presence in his life.
Deanna observed Wesley and Data and shook her head slowly. "This has to be the cruelest form of torture. This being is warping your memories of Tasha, destroying them. It can be a very powerful weapon."
"But whose weapon?" Riker stared at Deanna for a long moment. He struggled to hear his Imzadi's thoughts as he used to be able to do, but now, all he could see was that Deanna was very worried, and he didn't need telepathy to know that there was something she knew about and wasn't telling. She was feeling something, but she didn't trust her own feelings. She was worried about someone, but whom?
Not me, that's for sure, he thought. I can always hear when she's worried about me. I haven't lost the touch that much.
Riker followed her gaze around the bridge at all the officers. Which one?
Just then, Picard's ready room doors slid open and he walked out, followed by Tasha Yar. The bridge crew froze.
Worf placed a hand on his phaser as Tasha climbed the aft ramp and stood next to him.
Riker, horrified, whispered to his captain, "Sir, wh--" he shook his head, "what are you doing?"
"Trying to exorcise a ghost, Number One," Picard was rather pale.
"Are you going to let her wander around?" Riker couldn't tear his eyes off her.
The captain was similarly afflicted, "I don't think I have any choice."
"Excuse me, Worf," Tasha said, indicating that he was standing at her station and should move. Deanna could feel the confusion and pain coming from Worf. Was this his friend or an enemy? Should he obey or fight? He did not move, but stood his ground, staring at her, unable to decide.
"Worf," Tasha insisted, but Worf did not budge.
Picard had an idea. "Lieutenant Yar, may I speak with you a moment?"
Riker, completely dumbfounded, simply watched.
Picard didn't know if this was some ghost or not, but he was going to try to touch it and find out. Tasha reached Picard's side and he tried to place a hand on her shoulder. His hand fell right through her. She disbursed like so much dust and disappeared.
Picard stared for a long moment at where Tasha had been. Deanna felt the same emotion coming from all the crew members present, including herself, but she couldn't think of something to say to all of them at this moment.
Seconds later, Worf tabbed his panel. "Sir, we are being hailed again."
Riker shooed Wesley off to the side of the bridge near the turbolift, where he could not be seen by the children of the Neverland. He seemed to cause too much of a stir among the children to make another appearance. They might try to carry him off and declare him their king.
"On screen," Picard could turn himself on and off like a switch. He faced the viewscreen.
Kaelha appeared again on the screen with Briyen still at her side, and a new girl on her other side. Picard suppressed the urge to demand she identify everyone on her crew.
"Jean-Luc," Kaelha began. Picard flinched. "I want your decision on when negotiations will commence. My terms are my ship, only Crusher." Before Picard could answer, she noticed Geordi. "Who is that in Crusher's place? Why does he look like that?"
"That is Chief of Engineering Geordi LaForge. As for sending Ensign Crusher to you, I will not--"
"What is that thing on his face?"
"--allow any member of my--" Picard attempted to ignore her question and continue, but to no avail.
"I said what is that?"
"Sir," Geordi turned to Picard. Picard, resigned to this constant interrogation, nodded.
"It's my VISOR," Geordi offered in his most pleasant voice. "It helps me see."
"Now," Picard resumed, "either we will hold negotiations aboard the Enterprise, or I am willing to consider sending a team of several of our very most capable delegates aboard your ship. But I will not--"
"He's blind?" Kaelha insisted, ignoring all else.
"Yes," Picard sighed. "Now shall we continue?"
"Who else have you not told me about? You, in the yellow," she gestured to Billy Nolan, who had been pressing himself against the back wall near Aft Engineering. "Who are you?"
"I-I'm Ensign William Nolan," he answered, having a whole litter of mewing little kittens.
"And how old are you?"
Billy gulped hard, then lied by four years, "Twenty-four." If this chick had a thing for children, he wanted to make sure he was way out of range.
"Oh. And who is your commanding officer?"
"G-Geordi LaForge, there at Conn."
"Mm. We've met. That covers Command, Security and Engineering. How about Medical? Ensign, who's in charge of your sickbay?"
"Doctor Beverly Crusshhh..." Billy trailed off He saw the murderous look and the negating hand gestures he was getting from Wesley. Picard had a similarly dismayed look upon his face that Billy, mercifully, could not see from his perspective.
"Crusher?" the girl lit up.
Oh great... Wes thought, backing up into the closed doors of the turbolift.
Picard felt like screaming, but his outward appearance made no change.
"Any relation to the boy?" Kaelha asked. Worf ventured a glance over at Wesley, who shook his head vigorously again. He didn't want his mother dragged into this with him.
Picard cursed himself for ever allowing Wesley Crusher to become an ensign before Starfleet Academy. He could just see the communiqués now: Captain of Federation Flagship's Incompetence Kills Entire Crusher Family. Was it just his imagination or did the Crushers have a proficiency for getting themselves into serious danger?
Picard opened his mouth to lie: No. No relation to the boy whatever, but thank you for playing...
He never got the chance to lie. The new girl sitting next to Kaelha whispered something to her.
"Ah, yes," Kaelha said. "The boy is her son."
Picard almost spat with anger, "Who is that girl?"
"Fair enough," she answered. She said that an awful lot for someone who didn't seem to grasp the concept of fairness at all. "This is Marn, our telepath. She is not Betazoid, like your Deanna Troi is partly, but she's better in a way, because her talents are learned, not inherited. No chance of being a mere half-breed, you know?"
Riker heard a tiny gasp come from Deanna's direction. When he turned to look at the half-Betazoid, he saw that she was blanched in reaction to the insult.
Picard was furious, "How is it that you know so much about my crew?"
"One must know one's enemy, Jean-Luc. And if it has anything to do with the outcome of a battle, I'd say we're far ahead. Kaelha out."
Picard spun on his heel, took one step towards the Center Seat and stopped, his body rigid with rage. Then, with an exhalation, most of it was under control. He turned back to the viewscreen again.
"Merde," he breathed at the huge ship on the screen.
The doors of Picard's ready room hissed shut behind Wesley. Picard slid behind his desk with typical automaton fluidity. Wesley stood awkwardly in front of the captain's desk.
"Let me make this perfectly clear. Another outburst like that in front of a hostile and I will have you stripped of your rank. You're smarter than that, Mister Crusher, and I don't have the time or patience to school you on my bridge. You are in every way an officer of my bridge crew and you will conduct yourself accordingly. Understood?"
Wesley blanched. "Yes, sir," he whispered, wincing as if struck.
"I am lenient with you now because this is a new situation for you: being requested to negotiate, and being a catalyst, albeit unwilling, in an unanticipated situation. Besides, your reaction, strangely enough, seems to have defused the situation. Beyond that, I would be hypocrite in chastising you for losing your temper before that infuriating girl."
Wesley would have smiled at that if he had not been smarting so severely from his dressing-down.
"Now. I know in negotiations we must assume that these children would be diplomatic and treat you fairly, and I know that you have recently exceeded the minimum age of a diplomat, but we know nearly nothing about their ship or technology or what their plans may be. I have no intention of sending you over to their ship, much less alone, to deal with them. It is not that I doubt you in any way, or that I am holding your little outburst against you and denying you this mission as punishment. I cannot allow this at all, nor at this point would I even send Commander Riker, Data and Worf over there all three together."
"I understand, sir, but..." Wesley shifted from one foot to the other, "permission to speak freely?"
"Granted."
Wesley's pose relaxed from a stiff attention. He took a deep breath, hesitating to make the greatest sacrifice he could imagine. He knew when he joined Starfleet that it could very possibly take his life one day. He knew, better than most, the risks of a Starfleet career. He just didn't think it would come so soon. "I know you're just watching out for me, and I know that there are times when a crew member must be sacrificed for the greater good of the ship--"
"Wesley--" Picard held up his hand to stop the speech he knew was coming, but Wesley pressed on.
"--but I am only an ensign, and a non-commissioned one, too. And I know that," Wesley hesitated to bring it up, "that you feel you have to watch out for me, because my father died under your command too--"
"Wesley."
Wes took a sharp breath, trying to get his whole thought out before Picard stopped him, "--but that wasn't your fault, I know that now. And it won't be your fault if I die. I mean, it would be much better than losing the entire Enterprise, right? And maybe they won't kill me. Maybe I can get them to leave us alone. Maybe they really do just want to negotiate with someone closer to their own age. Or even if they do take me, or if they... kill me, at least it wouldn't be a thousand passengers on a--"
"Mister Crusher!" Wesley fell silent. "I admire your courage, Mister Crusher, but we don't know that sacrificing you will save the Enterprise. Perhaps they believe that with you out of the way, they can more easily destroy us. Or perhaps they wish to save you and do away with the rest of us, keeping you unharmed because you are a ch-- a young person as they are. Perhaps your negotiations won't succeed and they'll choose to battle regardless of your efforts." Wesley opened his mouth to protest, but Picard continued, "Before you go heroically and melodramatically casting yourself in the path of danger, Mister Crusher, let us be certain it is the correct path."
Wes blushed and whispered, "Aye, sir."
Despite valiant efforts to the contrary, Picard had come to regard Wesley almost as a son. He wondered if he might have handled the situation differently if it were any other boy, and was afraid there might be some subtle differences. Perhaps Wesley was right in that he felt his old friend Jack Crusher would have wanted him to watch out for his son. Regardless, Picard was inwardly relieved that he had found so many reasons to keep Wesley safely on the Enterprise.
Wes couldn't help being relieved as well, though the two showed no physical indication of their common emotion. They had enough left to worry about to almost nullify relief.
The commlink twinkled, "Yar to Picard."
Picard's eyes widened. Wesley nearly fell down. The voice and name both beloned to Chief of Security Natasha Yar, who had been dead for over three years.
"Tasha?" Wesley whispered.
"Computer," Picard was sure he'd heard wrong. "Repeat, please."
But the communication was clear.
After a pause, Picard decided to play along. "Yes, lieutenant."
"Sir, request permission to enter your ready room."
Crusher and Picard looked at each other. Picard decided to try a few things. "Computer, locate Lieutenant Natasha Yar."
"Lieutenant Natasha Yar is deceased."
"Picard to Riker."
"Riker here."
"Number One, is there anyone standing outside my ready room door?"
"No, sir," Riker's voice now came through the commlink. "May I ask why, sir?"
"I'll explain later, Number One." Picard tried playing along again. "Permission granted, Lieutenant Yar."
The ready room doors hissed open and Lieutenant Tasha Yar walked in. Now Wesley did fall over. He backed up into a chair, fell over it and landed on his tailbone in front of the captain's desk, still staring wide- eyed at the ghost of his old friend standing before him. Tasha looked down at him.
"Are you quite all right?" she asked with raised eyebrows, as if inconvenienced by the young man's presence, rather than out of genuine concern for his welfare. She seemed rather un-Tasha-like.
Wes picked himself up, not taking his eyes off her, "S-sure, I'm f- fine."
Picard forced himself to release his clenched jaw. He breathed, trying to prepare himself to speak evenly. "Yes, lieutenant?"
How in hell is he keeping so calm? Wes thought as he tried to control his own rising panic.
"Sir, I have information on the children. They are prepared to leave us alone completely if you release this boy to them."
"Surely you are not suggesting I hand over a crew member to a hostile, then turn tail and run," Picard knew that in life, Tasha would have fought against unbeatable odds to save a person rather than lose them in negotiations.
"No, sir, it's not like that at all. They are not hostile, and they don't threaten us. They just want Crusher. Once they have him, they will leave. And we don't need to run from anyone. And... with all due respect, sir, Wesley's just the son of the ship's doctor."
And one of your very best friends, Wes thought, hurt by Tasha's coldness.
"He's not a crew member."
Wesley had a dawning. He had been an ensign on the Enterprise for three years, and an acting ensign before that. But all of these promotions took place after Tasha Yar had died.
Wesley looked to Picard for instructions, wondering if that same thought had occurred to him.
Picard caught his eye, "You're dismissed, Ensign." Picard glanced at Tasha for a reaction to calling Wesley by his rank. She gave none.
Wesley didn't even suffer an "aye sir" but just ran out.
* * *
Back on the bridge, Wesley ran right over to Riker, who had stood upon the disconcerted ensign's entrance. Billy Nolan was indifferent about Wes's return, for when nothing imperative was happening on the Aft Engineering monitors, he'd requested that Lieutenant LaForge take his place at Conn. Geordi happily complied, spreading his fingers across the console of his old position before his promotion, and Billy could breathe again.
"Report, ensign," Riker realized that was an unnecessary command. Wesley was already spilling information at warp nine-point-one.
"Commander, Tasha's in there! I mean, something that looks and acts and sounds like Tasha is in there talking to Captain Picard and she--"
"What?" Riker narrowed his eyes at the ensign.
Every crew member on the bridge forgot to be discreet about listening in and turned to look.
"Tasha was in there with the captain. She still could be, I don't know. But it's a ghost or something. And she wanted to just beam me over to the Neverland and run away!"
"Tasha Yar?" Riker still didn't grasp the concept. Wesley nodded. "Our Tasha Yar?" Wesley nodded again. "The one who's dead?"
"Yes," Wesley sighed, getting impatient.
Worf had gotten over his initial shock, which is never very severe in a Klingon. "That is not Tasha. Tasha would fight for a Starfleet officer."
"That's just it!" Wesley strode over to the center seat just below the aft rail and looked up at the Klingon. "She doesn't know I'm an officer! She thinks I'm still just one of the families aboard!"
Riker had regained his senses. "It can't be just any life form imitating Tasha. Anything biological can hardly sneak aboard the Enterprise. Why am I again thinking of Q?"
"And she didn't seem to like me very much," Wesley's voice lowered a notch in volume.
Data had turned slightly to listen to the conversation, but now he stared at the ready room door and disregarded his console for a moment. There was a distinct possibility that Tasha was in there, and he wasn't certain how to react to that. Certainly if he were capable of emotion, his emotions would be a turmoil. But as one who had a very special and intimate relationship with Tasha that included no real emotions whatsoever on his part, how should he react? There was something within him that seemed disturbing, something that might be a distant relative of sadness. Inasmuch as he could, Data had grown accustomed to Tasha, and he missed her presence in his life.
Deanna observed Wesley and Data and shook her head slowly. "This has to be the cruelest form of torture. This being is warping your memories of Tasha, destroying them. It can be a very powerful weapon."
"But whose weapon?" Riker stared at Deanna for a long moment. He struggled to hear his Imzadi's thoughts as he used to be able to do, but now, all he could see was that Deanna was very worried, and he didn't need telepathy to know that there was something she knew about and wasn't telling. She was feeling something, but she didn't trust her own feelings. She was worried about someone, but whom?
Not me, that's for sure, he thought. I can always hear when she's worried about me. I haven't lost the touch that much.
Riker followed her gaze around the bridge at all the officers. Which one?
Just then, Picard's ready room doors slid open and he walked out, followed by Tasha Yar. The bridge crew froze.
Worf placed a hand on his phaser as Tasha climbed the aft ramp and stood next to him.
Riker, horrified, whispered to his captain, "Sir, wh--" he shook his head, "what are you doing?"
"Trying to exorcise a ghost, Number One," Picard was rather pale.
"Are you going to let her wander around?" Riker couldn't tear his eyes off her.
The captain was similarly afflicted, "I don't think I have any choice."
"Excuse me, Worf," Tasha said, indicating that he was standing at her station and should move. Deanna could feel the confusion and pain coming from Worf. Was this his friend or an enemy? Should he obey or fight? He did not move, but stood his ground, staring at her, unable to decide.
"Worf," Tasha insisted, but Worf did not budge.
Picard had an idea. "Lieutenant Yar, may I speak with you a moment?"
Riker, completely dumbfounded, simply watched.
Picard didn't know if this was some ghost or not, but he was going to try to touch it and find out. Tasha reached Picard's side and he tried to place a hand on her shoulder. His hand fell right through her. She disbursed like so much dust and disappeared.
Picard stared for a long moment at where Tasha had been. Deanna felt the same emotion coming from all the crew members present, including herself, but she couldn't think of something to say to all of them at this moment.
Seconds later, Worf tabbed his panel. "Sir, we are being hailed again."
Riker shooed Wesley off to the side of the bridge near the turbolift, where he could not be seen by the children of the Neverland. He seemed to cause too much of a stir among the children to make another appearance. They might try to carry him off and declare him their king.
"On screen," Picard could turn himself on and off like a switch. He faced the viewscreen.
Kaelha appeared again on the screen with Briyen still at her side, and a new girl on her other side. Picard suppressed the urge to demand she identify everyone on her crew.
"Jean-Luc," Kaelha began. Picard flinched. "I want your decision on when negotiations will commence. My terms are my ship, only Crusher." Before Picard could answer, she noticed Geordi. "Who is that in Crusher's place? Why does he look like that?"
"That is Chief of Engineering Geordi LaForge. As for sending Ensign Crusher to you, I will not--"
"What is that thing on his face?"
"--allow any member of my--" Picard attempted to ignore her question and continue, but to no avail.
"I said what is that?"
"Sir," Geordi turned to Picard. Picard, resigned to this constant interrogation, nodded.
"It's my VISOR," Geordi offered in his most pleasant voice. "It helps me see."
"Now," Picard resumed, "either we will hold negotiations aboard the Enterprise, or I am willing to consider sending a team of several of our very most capable delegates aboard your ship. But I will not--"
"He's blind?" Kaelha insisted, ignoring all else.
"Yes," Picard sighed. "Now shall we continue?"
"Who else have you not told me about? You, in the yellow," she gestured to Billy Nolan, who had been pressing himself against the back wall near Aft Engineering. "Who are you?"
"I-I'm Ensign William Nolan," he answered, having a whole litter of mewing little kittens.
"And how old are you?"
Billy gulped hard, then lied by four years, "Twenty-four." If this chick had a thing for children, he wanted to make sure he was way out of range.
"Oh. And who is your commanding officer?"
"G-Geordi LaForge, there at Conn."
"Mm. We've met. That covers Command, Security and Engineering. How about Medical? Ensign, who's in charge of your sickbay?"
"Doctor Beverly Crusshhh..." Billy trailed off He saw the murderous look and the negating hand gestures he was getting from Wesley. Picard had a similarly dismayed look upon his face that Billy, mercifully, could not see from his perspective.
"Crusher?" the girl lit up.
Oh great... Wes thought, backing up into the closed doors of the turbolift.
Picard felt like screaming, but his outward appearance made no change.
"Any relation to the boy?" Kaelha asked. Worf ventured a glance over at Wesley, who shook his head vigorously again. He didn't want his mother dragged into this with him.
Picard cursed himself for ever allowing Wesley Crusher to become an ensign before Starfleet Academy. He could just see the communiqués now: Captain of Federation Flagship's Incompetence Kills Entire Crusher Family. Was it just his imagination or did the Crushers have a proficiency for getting themselves into serious danger?
Picard opened his mouth to lie: No. No relation to the boy whatever, but thank you for playing...
He never got the chance to lie. The new girl sitting next to Kaelha whispered something to her.
"Ah, yes," Kaelha said. "The boy is her son."
Picard almost spat with anger, "Who is that girl?"
"Fair enough," she answered. She said that an awful lot for someone who didn't seem to grasp the concept of fairness at all. "This is Marn, our telepath. She is not Betazoid, like your Deanna Troi is partly, but she's better in a way, because her talents are learned, not inherited. No chance of being a mere half-breed, you know?"
Riker heard a tiny gasp come from Deanna's direction. When he turned to look at the half-Betazoid, he saw that she was blanched in reaction to the insult.
Picard was furious, "How is it that you know so much about my crew?"
"One must know one's enemy, Jean-Luc. And if it has anything to do with the outcome of a battle, I'd say we're far ahead. Kaelha out."
Picard spun on his heel, took one step towards the Center Seat and stopped, his body rigid with rage. Then, with an exhalation, most of it was under control. He turned back to the viewscreen again.
"Merde," he breathed at the huge ship on the screen.