Echoes of Destinay - The Fog of War
Two
"Acknowledged Admiral. We'll head out immediately." Picard snapped the terminal in his ready room shut and rose briskly, tugging sharply on his tunic bottom as he did so. The Enterprise had been called away from patrol of the neutral zone for a quick relief mission to a strategic target across the sector.
As he walked out onto the bridge he tapped his communicator. "Picard to sickbay."
"Yes sir, what can I do for you?" Picard was answered by the harried but even tones of Doctor Nina Stewart. She was seventy, spry, and ran her department with machine-like precision. A veteran of the Federation and the war, she had stepped down from an Admiralty in the medical division to coordinate Starfleet's relief program from the Enterprise.
"We are proceeding to Aeron V immediately to refresh their medical staff and supplies. We'll be there in approximately 18 hours – I need you to have a relief rotation and to fulfill the manifest for their field hospital, which will arrive shortly from Starfleet Command." His tone was stern but solicitous. It was a lot to ask, but he was perfectly assured Doctor Stewart would have everything necessary – and before they arrived. And if she didn't – well, she outranked him. A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth.
"Very well Captain. We'll be ready." Her tone was calm and confident. "By the way Jean-Luc, who's leading the medical effort there?" He heard a clatter of pads in the background and a muffled "Damn it."
He could not hide his amusement as he responded. "Doctor Beverly Howard. She's been there for 9 months now. Apparently she's quite capable." Picard took his seat at the center of the bridge and nodded to Riker.
Nina chirped back quickly. "More than capable, Captain. She's one of our finest. I'll be glad to help her out. The situation there must be rather dire if Starfleet's kept her there that long." More clattering pads and an exasperated sigh.
"I'll see you in 18 hours, Doctor. I trust you'll have your files under control by then." Picard made eye contact with a smiling Riker and raised an eyebrow.
"You bet your ass I will Picard. Now wipe that smirk off your face. And tell Riker he's late for his physical therapy." She snapped at them good-naturedly. "Three weeks late. Stewart out."
Both men chuckled. Riker's tenor changed and he gazed at the Captain evenly. "We're lucky to have her sir."
Picard nodded solemnly. They had lost their first CMO in a skirmish two years ago, a pointless one at that. She was young, smart as a whip, and loved by every member of the crew. Her loss had been a setback for the ship – but Stewart had stepped in fearlessly and healed a lot more than broken bones. Of course they'd seen a lot of their colleagues fall. Friendships on the Enterprise were tentative and fleeting at best. They were intentionally kept casual – death and reassignment were all too familiar. Those relationships that were deep and lasting – like the one between Jean-Luc Picard and Will Riker – were priceless.
Picard laid a hand on Riker's arm and nodded. He turned to the aft of the bridge to the commanding blonde security chief. "Lieutenant Yar – I need a full tactical analysis and plan of attack for Aeron V. I get the feeling that the Florence Nightengale routine won't hold much weight with the Romulans. We've got the Roosevelt en route to provide cover, but we'll need to be cagey."
"Aye aye sir. We'll get right on it." Tasha turned to Lieutenant Worf at tactical and inclined her head. He stepped up to her conn and began downloading schematics. "The new cloaking system is still experimental, but it may be just what we need." Her expression belied her distraction as she began calculating strategy.
A year ago Starfleet operatives had cracked the encoding on a salvaged Warbird and begun to develop their own cloaking systems. As Yar had indicated it was still imperfect – but ships across the fleet had been using it with some success.
"Coordinate with LaForge and see that it works. We're not taking any chances." Picard's tone was deadly serious.
"Understood sir. We'll have a solution for you." Tasha stood rigid, her posture assured. She bent her head and began coordinating with Worf. In a moment they turned and walked to the lift, headed to engineering to conference with Commander LaForge.
Riker turned to Picard. "How many Romulan ships running the blockade at Aeron V?"
Picard looked up from the study of his padd and adopted a stern expression. "As many as four. Two Warbirds and two scout ships that patrol the entire Aeron system."
Riker whistled. "Some odds."
"Commander Crusher is on the ground there. He's promised us a worthy distraction." Picard's air changed and his tone lightened.
Will's eyebrows shot up. "Jack will be there? Well then. We're sure to have quite a time." Riker's twinkling eyes met Picard's and he inclined his head.
Picard tugged at his uniform and gave Riker a sardonic nod. "If we're lucky one of the scouts will be out on patrol in another part of the sector."
Riker glanced around at the men and women on the bridge. "Let's hope we're lucky today."
"I don't care what the hell they told you at the Academy," Beverly Howard yelled at a young ensign. "Get the laser scalpel and get moving. Now!" She regretted her harsh tone and the frightened look in the young woman's eyes, but they didn't have time to waste, and they didn't have time for Starfleet protocol. She'd gotten the encoded communiqué last nite – apparently the cavalry was on the way. Well, they'd better be here on time. Pretty soon she'd be treating patients with standard issue duct tape and paper towels.
Doctor Howard impatiently snapped shut her tricorder and handed it to her attendant, who had been administering a hypospray to their current patient. "Jeannie, you know where I'll be." The petite, dark headed woman, a little older than Beverly, had been with her for two years now. Howard made it clear – where she went, Jeannie went. Their friendship was one of the only things either woman could call her own.
Beverly glanced at the chronometer on the wall. Half an hour before the next CO meeting. Enough time for a sandwich and a walk. She opened the door to the medical shelter and winced at the bright sunlight, instinctively shading her eyes. She continued forward and ran smack into Jack Crusher, the Commander in charge of ground operations at Aeron V.
"Excuse me Beverly, I'll have to be more careful." He quickly grabbed her arm as she staggered backward. She gave him a sharp look, but smiled readily when she saw his mischievous expression.
"Watch it Crusher. I'm a valuable commodity in these parts. At least as long as the gauze bandages hold out." She blinked back the sun as her eyes adjusted and looked up to meet his gaze.
"Apparently then you've nothing to worry about Doctor Howard. We've got fresh supplies on the way. Your wish, after all, is my command." He grinned and gave a slight bow.
"As you were, Commander." She smirked up at him. He'd been posted to Aeron V for only a bit longer than she had. It was to his credit the Fleet was doing as well as they were – they were completely outnumbered and outgunned – but certainly not outsmarted.
He chuckled. "Seriously, Doctor Howard. I do want to thank you for your work here. I know we've been keeping you on your toes. Bandages or not, you are a valuable addition to the team."
"Thank you Commander Crusher. I'll see you at the meeting." She suddenly felt fidgety. She nodded deferentially and began to walk away.
Before she did Crusher caught her arm. "Doctor Howard, uh, Beverly." His brown eyes, so often haunted and distant, were now uncertain and hopeful. And trained on her light blue eyes, curious and alert. "I'm wondering if you're free for dinner tonite. This," he swept his arm across the dreary grey vista of the camp, "is getting to me. I need some time to think about something else. And I've always enjoyed talking to you, though we haven't really had much a of a chance."
She looked down at his hand on her arm, and he self-consciously moved it back to his side, a glimmer of disappointment in his expression. She gave him an open, reassuring smile and responded. "That would be nice, Jack. I've been feeling the same way lately."
He smiled back evenly. "All right then. Unless something comes up, let's meet at 1900 hours at the mess. We can pick something up and head for the lake. It's supposed to be warm this evening."
She nodded and began walking off again. If she didn't get moving she wouldn't have time to grab lunch. She called back to him over her shoulder. "See you then, Commander."
Jack stood, rooted to his spot for a moment staring after her before turning and heading into the mobile command shelter next to medical.
Lightyears away, a tall, raven-haired woman stopped abruptly in a marketplace and turned her head to the sky. A man walking closely behind her ran into her and fell backwards, though the woman appeared to take no notice. Feeling unexplainably horrified, he crawled to his feet and scurried away. In a moment he would be sick, his stomach wracked with wrenching cramps. After that he would remember nothing of the incident, and simply wonder how he ended up so far from his original destination.
But as all this occurred the dark woman remained motionless, her brow furrowed and her frame rigid. Passers-by gave her a wide berth and averted their eyes as they did, many of them unconsciously silencing their conversations.
In just another moment there was an intense flash and a pop, and the woman was gone. No one seemed to notice, but it was almost ten minutes before anyone on the crowded street tread on the spot where she had been standing.
