When a Ferengi vessel shows up with a ship from Captain Picard's past, Tasha is worried about how it will impact the Jaradan mission. Geordi's date night with Sonya is more explosive than anticipated.
Author's Note: Thank you for all of your likes, kudos, reviews/comments, and dms on this story! I sincerely appreciate all the support and love. Thank you!
This chapter is a mix between a character study of Captain Picard and his relationship with the crew. It's balanced with some fun moments – including a date between Geordi and Sonya.
Just on a note on Deanna's line regarding Bok's intentions – this line is from the episode. Trek itself is fairly inconsistent on Betazoid abilities and Ferengi brains. At times, it is established that Betazoid abilities are incapable of penetrating Ferengi brains. In other episodes, we see both Deanna and Lwaxana use their abilities to pick up on Ferengi feelings.
To reconcile this, I'm working under the assumption that full Betazoid telepathic abilities are not able to read Ferengi thoughts. However, empathic feelings can be picked up.
As always, feel free to join me on Twitter TheTartanTart.
Captain's Log. Stardate 41728.3. In response to a Starfleet order, we have rerouted to the Xendi Sabu star system in order to rendezvous with a Ferengi vessel that has requested a meeting. Although we arrived here and made appropriate signals to the Ferengi three days ago, they have so far responded only with the message 'stand by Enterprise.'
Captain Picard sat back in his chair and took a sip of his tea. He was having his usual morning breakfast with Beverly in his quarters.
"What's on your mind?" Beverly asked.
Jean-Luc didn't respond. He was lost in his own thoughts.
"You're awfully pensive this morning," Beverly commented, hoping to stir a reaction.
Jean-Luc said nothing.
"I was thinking of going blonde," Beverly said.
"I agree," Captain Picard said absentmindedly.
Beverly grinned behind her saucer. Whatever was on his mind had clearly occupied his thoughts entirely.
Suddenly, Captain Picard sat upright and looked across the table at Beverly.
"Blonde?" he asked. "Really?"
He cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"Only to get your attention," Beverly said innocently.
Jean-Luc kicked himself internally.
Had she said something important?
Was this an invitation to air their feelings?
Jean-Luc collected his thoughts and said the only thing he could think of that would both acknowledge the situation and not waste such an important opportunity.
"You have always had my attention, Beverly," he said softly.
Beverly did her best to bite back a smart remark. Her comment had certainly had the intended effect – and then some.
"For the record, I meant this morning," Beverly clarified.
She could see the Captain's attempt to hide his embarrassment at having said more than he intended.
Once again, they'd come right up to the line before both retreating from their feelings.
"Something is weighing on you," Beverly said.
She had seen it in the way he carried himself ever since the way they had left McKinley station. Since arriving at the Xendi Sabu system, the Captain had been in a foul mood, and it was getting worse.
"What do the Ferengi want?" Picard asked aloud. "Three days! We've been sitting here doing nothing."
Jean-Luc set his saucer down on the table.
"Stand by Enterprise. Stand by for what?" Picard growled. "Well I will not delay our mission to the Jarada. It's too important for some Ferengi nonsense."
He folded his hands in his lap and shook his head in disgust.
"Then you need to rest, sir. You're fatigued," Beverly advised.
"It's just this damned headache," Picard muttered.
Beverly frowned with concern.
"A what?" Beverly asked.
"Headache," Jean-Luc said.
Across the table, Beverly raised her eyebrows.
"Headache," Jean-Luc repeated. "Surely you know what a headache is?"
Beverly's reaction turned sour. Jean-Luc's mood was deteriorating by the minute. If he was this crusty as breakfast, he'd be insufferable by lunchtime.
"Of course, I do," Beverly assured him tersely. "But I don't often encounter them."
She fished her tricorder out of the pocket of her jacket and stepped over to the Captain to conduct a preliminary scan. Scanning the Captain didn't provide any additional clues and her questions about other symptoms were met with a disgruntled grumble.
"The reason is obvious, of course," Picard snapped. "The Ferengi are attempting to delay our mission to the Jarada."
"I don't see anything wrong," Beverly said as she analysed her tricorder reading.
"No, neither can I," Picard replied. "But I don't trust them. Perhaps this is some trap."
"With your head," Beverly explained, resisting the urge to smack the back of it.
The tricorder readings indicated no unusual changes. Beverly could rule out hormone levels, blood pressure changes, and injury.
"I want to run some additional scans," Beverly ordered.
Jean-Luc ignored the request.
"Once this business with the Ferengi and Jarada are completed we-" Picard began to say.
"That's an order to report to Sickbay," Beverly commanded. "From the one person on this ship who can give you an order."
Captain Picard sighed to himself.
He knew she had the authority to order such a scan. He regretted ever revealing that he had been experiencing a headache as it had set Beverly on high alert.
The computer pinged to alert Captain Picard of a new incoming message from the Bridge.
Saved the bell. Jean-Luc thought to himself as he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Riker to Picard," Riker said. "They're finally sending a message."
"On my way, Number One," Jean-Luc said.
He sprung up from the table to return to the Bridge, stopping just shy of the door.
"Sorry, Doctor," Jean-Luc called back. "Duty calls!"
"It's about damn time," Picard said as he stepped onto the Bridge.
He assumed the Command Chair and adjusted his uniform.
"They're prepared to talk, sir," Riker informed him.
"Have they given any hint of what they've been waiting for?" Picard demanded.
"Negative, Captain," Tasha reported. "They've identified their Captain as Bok. DaiMon Bok."
Approximately twenty minutes earlier, the Enterprise had picked up a Ferengi ship moving in quickly on their position. On Riker's order, they had sent a hail.
The Ferengi had responded they were en route to the Enterprise and would be ready to speak with Captain Picard upon their arrival. They relayed their flight plan and the name of their Commanding Officer, but no further information.
"You will be able to see him shortly, sir," Data advised. "They are willing to communicate on visual."
Picard and Riker nodded to one another. Jean-Luc sat up and straightened his posture.
"Open hailing frequencies," Picard ordered.
Tasha keyed in the appropriate command and projected the Ferengi communication channel onto the viewscreen.
"Hailing frequencies open, sir," she said.
"Ferengi vessel. This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Enterprise," Captain Picard said, introducing himself.
The Ferengi visual transmission seemed to be distorted somehow and it was hard to tell if such a distortion was intentional or merely the way in which they communicated.
"I know who you are, Picard," Bok said as he came onscreen.
Deanna could sense a spike in the Captain's adrenaline at that statement.
"Then you have the advantage," Picard replied smoothly.
His voice was relaxed, but inside he was anything but.
"I am Bok, DaiMon of the Ferengi," Bok barked. "I have asked you here to discuss a mutual problem, Captain."
"What problem is that, DaiMon Bok?" Picard inquired.
A collective sense of heightened awareness fell on the Bridge. They'd been in the area for three days monitoring every available transmission, communique, and activity in the area.
The Xendi Sabu system was a relatively quiet, sparsely inhabited system. There were a handful of M-class worlds and a relatively stable star. However, it wasn't a popular route for Starfleet vessels, trade ships, or travellers.
"I insist on speaking of that matter in person," Bok demanded. "Shall we meet on your vessel or mine?"
Deanna glanced at the Captain, and he understood that she needed to speak to him. He requested Bok give them a moment to discuss the matter. Bok was willing to agree.
At the Captain's signal, Tasha cut the transmission.
"Hailing frequencies closed," Tasha said, announcing it was now safe to speak freely.
"Captain, I sense considerable deception on Bok's part. And danger," Deanna cautioned.
Even though their interaction with Bok had been brief, Deanna could sense danger.
"If we meet him here, we can keep him under our control," Riker said.
"I have not been able to determine the cause of the image distortion, but I suspect it has something to do with the energy signature of their shields," Data explained.
He had been unable to penetrate much beyond the energy signature. He had a basic read on their armaments and strength capabilities, but it was hard to get a detailed scan.
"Sir, I second Commander Riker's recommendation," Tasha said. "This could be a trap. We know so little about the Ferengi. And with these vague readings, I don't think we should send a team aboard until we know more."
With four of his senior Bridge officers in agreement, Picard thought it best to proceed with meeting the Ferengi on the Enterprise. He wordlessly instructed Tasha to open hailing frequencies again.
"I appreciate your offer, DaiMon Bok. We would like you to be our guest here," Picard announced.
Bok nodded, acknowledging the Captain's request.
"As you wish, Picard," Bok replied. "Perhaps this will begin a new era of cooperation for both our peoples. In one Earth hour, then?"
"In one hour, DaiMon Bok," Picard agreed. "End transmission."
Tasha cut the feed.
"I can't believe they're coming here," Worf growled.
"They did agree a bit easily," Picard said.
On Captain Picard's orders, Data keyed in the command to initiate the protocols for non-Federation visiting dignitaries. He alerted all the necessary department heads including Security, the Transporter Chief, and Medical.
On cue, Beverly hailed the Bridge.
"Crusher to Captain Picard," Beverly's voice rang out.
Captain Picard visibly grimaced.
"Since the Ferengi aren't beaming aboard for another hour, you've got time to report to Sickbay," Beverly said. "Please don't force me to make it an order."
Reluctantly, Captain Picard turned the Command Chair over to Commander Riker and headed off to Sickbay for an unwanted appointment.
"Alright, we've got less than an hour," Riker ordered. "Deanna, I'd like you and Mr Data to oversee the preparations for the meeting. Let's try and offer something as a gesture of peace."
Riker turned around in his chair.
"Lieutenant Yar, please assign someone from Security to join them. I want you to stay on the Bridge with me in case the Ferengi try anything. For all we know, this could still be a ruse," Riker said.
"Worf?" Tasha asked, turning to Worf.
Worf nodded in acknowledgement and joined Data and Deanna in the corridor.
"I do not trust DaiMon Bok's intentions," Worf said as the door closed.
Deanna didn't need her empath skills to sense that they were all on edge.
"Per Commander Riker's suggestion, I have combed through all available information on Ferengi custom. It is quite limited," Data prefaced.
There had been so little contact between the Ferengi and the Federation. Traders by nature, the Ferengi had used the Border Wars to enrich themselves.
"I believe I may have an idea," Data said.
Down in Sickbay, Captain Picard was lying on an examination table. Doctor Crusher had insisted on running a complete workup based on his headache.
"Are you always accustomed to getting your way, Doctor?" Picard asked.
"Only when I'm right," Beverly replied before adding, "Captain."
She flashed him a smile and the Captain relaxed a little.
"I'll have these scans done in ten minutes," Beverly assured him.
Captain Picard sat up so they could proceed with the next scan.
She grabbed a more advanced scanner and brought it down around his head.
"Just relax," Beverly instructed.
Jean-Luc's back was ramrod straight as if he were a young Ensign on report. It was like he hadn't been able to let loose since leaving McKinley station.
"It seems an awful lot of effort for something as simple as a headache," Picard muttered.
"Simple?" Beverly asked sarcastically.
She explained why she was so concerned. He shouldn't have been experiencing a headache unless there was something wrong. While headaches had once been common, that was in the days long gone by before the human brain had been charted.
He had experienced no trauma, illness, or infection that could explain the pain.
It was a medical mystery. And Beverly did not like medical mysteries.
The machine beeped to indicate that the scan was complete. Beverly removed the machine and stepped over to the computer to analyse the readout.
"So what's the cause of my headache?" Picard asked.
He didn't like the way she was frowning.
"I haven't the slightest idea," Beverly admitted.
She retrieved her hypospray from the pocket of her jacket and adjusted the setting.
Beverly then administered the device to his temple.
There was relief.
For the first time in days, Jean-Luc felt like he could breathe easy. There was relief that radiated out from his temple, working its way through the muscles of his face, over the top of his head, and down the back of his neck.
The tension in his shoulders relaxed. His jaw unclenched.
"Feel better?" Beverly asked.
"The pain is gone," Picard said in astonishment.
"Medical fakery," Beverly confessed. "The pain is still there. Just cloaked with some rather strong anodyne."
Whatever it was, it helped, and Jean-Luc was glad just to be back in action.
"I will want further exams," Beverly cautioned him.
He didn't need to say it aloud. She could sense that he was thinking he was suddenly right as rain.
"Doctor!" Picard snapped.
"Once the Ferengi matter is settled," she assured him.
Captain Picard shot her a look. He was asking permission to return to his duties but peppering that nonverbal request with a healthy dose of pressure.
"You're clear to return to the Bridge. But if there is any pain, I want you back here on the double," Beverly said.
Back on the Bridge, Commander Riker was sitting in the Command Chair and feeling uneasy.
"Anything?" Riker inquired.
"No, sir," Tasha reported. "I'm not picking up any changes in energy readings, they're not powering weapons, or adjusting their shield frequencies."
For nearly an hour, the Ferengi vessel had been sitting less than a kilometre off the Enterprise's bow. Thus far they had shown no signs of any malicious intent.
Waiting was the hardest part.
The door to the corridor opened and Deanna, Data, and Worf stepped onto the Bridge and resumed their positions. They had been in the Observation Lounge preparing for the Ferengi visit.
Data had wisely suggested that most humanoid species found comfort through food. There was some information available in Federation records about Ferengi culture and food. Most of their specialties included various dishes of invertebrates like crabs and slugs.
Unfortunately, the Enterprise computers did not have Ferengi recipes programmed into its database. In light of this, Data suggested that they use existing recipes for Vulcan molluscs and Risian slugs.
Deanna had been impressed. It was a creative solution to an impossible problem and a genuine effort to find something to honour their guests.
"Are we ready?" Riker inquired.
"As ready as we will ever be," Data said as he slipped into his chair at Operations.
Will and Deanna shared a grin at Data's use of such a human phrase.
All of a sudden, Tasha's Tactical panel changed.
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to register what was happening.
The long-range sensor readings had rapidly expanded by some ten thousand kilometres. Tasha scanned the area to get her bearings. There were suddenly new planets and traffic to monitor.
Before she could adjust her tactical scans to the newly expanded perimeter, it shifted again. In the distance, there was an object approaching.
But without knowing the cause, Tasha couldn't trust the readings. It could be a Ferengi trick.
"Sir, something is going on with our long-range sensors," Tasha advised.
"Lieutenant?" Riker inquired.
"I don't know, sir. It's hinky," Tasha replied.
"Hinky? Is that the Starfleet term for a problem?" Riker asked in response.
Tasha looked up from her panel and shot him a look that made clear his comment wasn't helping.
"Yar to Engineering, are you doing any maintenance on the long-range sensors?" Tasha asked as she tapped her combadge.
"You'll be getting an intruder alert shortly, sir," Wesley responded.
He was down in Engineering shadowing Geordi.
"Commander, there is what appears to be a Constellation class starship heading this way. I'd estimate impulse power. But I can't trust these readings. Our sensor range is dancing all over the place," Tasha explained.
"I'm playing around with boosting our sensor output," Wesley explained.
Data turned around in his chair and frowned.
"Boosting it? How?" Data asked in disbelief.
Boosting the long-range sensors was an item on Geordi and Data's project list for experimentation. However, they had avoided doing so because it had been hard to find a time when they could work on the sensor range without disrupting Bridge operations.
It also required a significant use of ship's power. As he pondered this, Data could see the boosted range was causing a power drain in Engineering.
"Wesley, how are you compensating for the increased output on-" Data stopped himself.
Behind him the crew was not pleased with this distraction. He saw the faces of Commander Riker, Deanna, Tasha, and Worf staring at him and got the hint.
"We will discuss this later," Data said quickly before turning back to the Operations console.
"Sir, it is transmitting no call sign," Worf reported.
"What is transmitting no call sign?" Picard asked as he stepped onto the Bridge.
He thanked Commander Riker and resumed his position in the Command Chair.
"Welcome back, sir," Riker said, greeting the Captain.
Commander Riker informed the Captain that they had picked up what they believed to be a Constellation class starship heading toward their position at maximum impulse power.
Captain Picard clutched the side of his head as a wave of pain rippled through his body.
"Sir? What's wrong?" Deanna asked.
"Nothing," Picard said, dismissing her concern. "Just, just a headache."
He was having trouble formulating words.
"The approaching vessel is not answering our hails," Tasha commented.
She had sent several communication attempts to the approaching vessel, and all had gone by without response.
Most Constellation class ships had been decommissioned in the last few years. There were still a few floating around, but they were mostly used as transport and resupply freighters. From his position at Ops, Data quickly cross-referenced all available flight plans on record for currently active Constellation class ships.
It took him 2.78 seconds to determine that there were no registered Starfleet vessels in the area.
"Time, sir," Data advised.
"Time?" Picard asked. "Oh! The Ferengi beam over."
All of the lights on the Bridge were too bright. There was a pulsating pain that throbbed with each blink from the Operations and Helm consoles.
"Do you see any problems with this old starship coming near, Number One?" Picard inquired.
In truth, a part of Jean-Luc didn't trust his own decision-making skills at that point. There was too much pain. It was difficult to concentrate.
"I think whatever is coming, we'll be safer with the Ferengi here, sir," Riker responded.
"Concur," Picard said. "Stand by. Lieutenant?"
"Hailing frequencies open, sir," Tasha answered as she opened a channel to the Ferengi vessel.
After agreeing to mutually drop their shields, the Ferengi were beamed aboard to the Bridge.
Just as their first encounter with the Ferengi in the Delphi Ardu system, tension ran high among the crew as three small men with large ears materialised onto the Bridge.
"We welcome you in peace to the Enterprise, DaiMon Bok," Picard said as he stood to greet their guests.
"The pleasure is ours, Captain Picard," Bok responded with a low bow.
He turned to the two officers that accompanied him and introduced them as his First Officer, Kazago, and his Second Officer, Rata.
Captain Picard nodded to both men and then introduced both Commander Riker and Lieutenant Commander Data to the Ferengi delegation.
Deanna couldn't quite put her thumb on it, but there was an obvious discrepancy in the feelings of the Ferengi officers. Bok was eager, as if he were waiting with anticipation for something. Meanwhile, First Officer Kazago was nervous. It was the kind of feeling that screamed he was being dragged into something that he had no desire to be involved with.
She surmised that this could just be natural trepidation about their mission. Kazago may not agree with making contact with the Federation.
"The android," Rata said as he eyed Data. "What is its price? We should like to purchase it."
"I am not for sale," Data said simply.
Rata stepped closer, circling Data like a vulture.
"Commander Data is second-hand merchandise. You wouldn't want him," Riker said, hoping to dissuade the Ferengi.
Data turned to Commander Riker and blinked in confusion.
"Second-hand, sir?" Data asked.
There was a hint of pain in his voice as if he had been offended by the notion.
"Oh!" Data said as realisation hit. "Of course. A human joke."
Riker sighed.
"Commander Data is a person not an object for sale," Tasha responded from behind in a polite, yet firm voice.
Tasha didn't care about offending their guests. No one was going to imply Data was an object for sale.
"We have heard you use females," Rata said as he turned his attention from Data to the women on the Bridge.
He looked Deanna up and down with curiosity and then studied Tasha.
"Ship's Counsellor, Deanna Troi," Picard said. "And my Security and Tactical Chief, Lieutenant Yar."
He was hoping to say it in a tone that indicated the matter of the women on his crew was not a matter up for discussion. Jean-Luc wanted the Ferengi to drop it.
"Females on the Bridge," Kazago said in disgust. "Bad for business."
"It makes you uncomfortable," Deanna observed aloud.
"No, no," Bok said quickly. "It is different than our ways."
Bok shot Kazago and Rata a warning look.
"But we are on your vessel and will honour your customs," Bok said quickly.
It seemed that Bok was genuinely concerned about offending the crew of the Enterprise. While the Ferengi intentions remained unclear, it was obvious they wanted their mission to proceed.
"Captain, the unidentified ship is closing in on our location," Tasha advised.
"Think nothing of it," Bok said. "It is under our control."
The tension on the Bridge rose from an uncomfortable six to a full-fledged eleven. Inside, Captain Picard was at a personal red alert.
"One of our starships is under your control?" Picard asked tersely.
"Do not be alarmed, Captain," Bok said in an effort to diffuse the tension. "It is our intention to return it to you. As a gift from us. A gift with which we honour the Hero of Maxia."
Bok leaned forward into a low bow.
"Who?" Picard inquired.
He racked his brain for any officer that held such a title.
"Why you, Picard," Bok explained. "Do you not remember the Battle of Maxia?"
Captain Picard glanced around at nothing.
He had never participated in such a battle. He had no recollection of the event. In any such case, he believed that he would remember such an important event. If it were substantial enough to be considered a battle, then there would have to be logs, commendations, some kind of record.
Bok could see the Captain was struggling to recall the event and this furthered Bok's anger.
"Perhaps we should relocate to the Observation Lounge for the rest of this meeting?" Deanna suggested.
Deanna figured that a short walk to the Observation Lounge would be a great way for everyone to take a breath before resuming these talks.
Captain Picard left Commander Riker and Tasha on the Bridge. Meanwhile, Captain Picard, Data, Deanna, and Worf stepped off the Bridge to show the Ferengi delegation to the Observation Lounge where they had set up a small diplomatic conference room.
"Sir, the ship is close enough to pick up on visual scanners now," Tasha advised. "With your permission?"
"Make it so," Riker responded.
Using her Tactical console, Tasha closed in on the visual reading and transmitted it to the viewscreen.
She gasped softly.
NCC-2893.
"Lieutenant?" Riker asked.
Tasha didn't respond.
This was the last thing the Captain needed before their diplomatic mission to the Jarada – the very last thing he needed.
"Tasha?" Riker pressed.
"The Stargazer," Tasha replied.
"Tasha, the Stargazer was destroyed over a decade ago," Riker countered.
"Yes, it was. Under the Command of Captain Picard," she said in agreement.
But there it was, right in front of them on the viewscreen.
"We need to alert the Captain," Riker said.
"No," Tasha said without tearing her eyes away from the viewscreen. "Wait until they're done with the Ferengi. Please sir. He doesn't need this right now."
Riker had never met Captain Picard prior to stepping onto the Enterprise at Farpoint Station.
Next to Doctor Crusher, Tasha was the person aboard that had known him longer than any of the other crew – and the only one to have served under him on a previous command.
Riker reluctantly agreed to wait.
It was evident by the tone of her request that this was something important.
In the aft section of deck one, Captain Picard and his officers were seated around the table with the Ferengi delegation.
To Data's dismay, it seemed they weren't keen on his culinary attempts to welcome them.
Rata had turned up his nose at the Risian slugs, commenting that he had travelled to Risa on thirteen occasions and never been served such disgusting slop.
Kazago touched nothing. He didn't trust eating this food.
Bok had politely nibbled at a Vulcan mollusc while Captain Picard attempted to recall the Battle of Maxia.
"Captain, DaiMon Bok may be referring to an incident which occurred nearly ten years ago in the Maxia Zeta star system," Data suggested.
The Captain's brow furrowed.
"There was an unidentified starship-" Data began.
"Unidentified?" Bok howled as he brought his fist down on the table.
Across the table, Worf was on his feet without hesitation. Captain Picard put his up in warning, cautioning Worf to stand down. There was no need to escalate the situation.
Bok straightened his uniform, collecting himself before proceeding.
"That fine vessel was Ferengi," Bok said in a much calmer manner.
"Which you destroyed, sir," Data finished.
He'd been searching through Starfleet records for any reference to the word 'Maxia' and cross-checking it with all Enterprise personnel.
The only thing he could come up with was an incident in which Captain Picard's former vessel, the Stargazer, had exchanged fire with an unidentified ship. While the Stargazer had successfully destroyed the hostile ship, it had taken considerable damage itself.
"The Battle of Maxia," Picard said absentmindedly. "I've never heard it referred to so dramatically before."
It had been over a decade since that day, but the trauma of such an event had never been far from his mind. They had lost thirty-two lives that day – good officers that Captain Picard had come to respect during their time under his command.
"My sincere regrets, Bok. But that vessel refused to identify itself. It simply attacked us," Picard recalled. "We defended ourselves."
Picard had never wanted to destroy the vessel.
But it had refused to answer their hails – instead opening fire on the Stargazer.
It was an unprovoked, hostile act with no warning.
"Such mistakes happen in space," Bok acknowledged with a small nod.
"Hardly a mistake, sir," Data said, chiming in. "Your report shows that it deliberately attacked."
Bok let Data's comment go.
"We would like to return the Stargazer to you," Bok announced. "And we will download the logs into the Enterprise's records at no price."
"No price!" Kazago roared.
"No price," Bok insisted.
Everyone in the room could pick up on the disagreement between Bok and his First Officer. It seemed Bok's offer had set off a flash of anger in the other Ferengi.
While Jean-Luc Picard was struggling to think, he could still reason clearly enough to recognise there was something odd about such an offer.
"For what purpose?" Picard asked bluntly.
Surely, the Ferengi would rather strip the ship for parts or sell the information. Constellation class vessels had plenty of raw materials that were still valuable even if she had been drifting around for the last decade.
All of a sudden, Captain Picard hissed and clutched his forehead.
"I just felt something too, Captain," Deanna said, acknowledging the strange feeling.
There had been a surge of pain from the Captain at the same time that Bok's aura had radiated a feeling of ecstasy.
"Data to Sickbay," Data said as he tapped his combadge.
"No, no. I'm fine," Picard insisted.
He took a sip of cool water, closing his eyes for just a moment. Even in the darkness of the Observation Lounge, even the smallest lights were beginning to bother the Captain's eyes.
"It felt like a deep, painful memory," Deanna said. "As if it were something from your past."
"I'm fine," Picard said curtly.
He straightened his posture and turned back to the Ferengi.
"What is this all about?" Picard demanded.
"It is about the Battle of Maxia, Captain. This is a gift in honour of that occasion," Bok replied.
He claimed that he had found it derelict and adrift on the far side of this star system. Data was sceptical of this claim. Based on the last known coordinates of the Stargazer, it was unlikely that it could have drifted here without assistance.
However, it was entirely possible that it could have been searched and left numerous times over the year. It was also possible that it may have been salvaged by some alien peoples and then later abandoned again.
"The vessel is yours, Captain," Bok offered. "If you wish to have it."
"We are not selling it to him?" Kazago questioned, irritated.
"Consider it an act of friendship between our people," Bok answered.
"At no cost?" Rata growled. "Oh, ugly. Very ugly."
After agreeing to transfer command of the Stargazer to the crew of the Enterprise, Bok and his delegation transported back to their own ship. Doctor Crusher had come up to the Observation Lounge and demanded to examine Captain Picard again.
She whipped out her medical kit and went to work scanning the Captain's brain.
"Was it like before?" Beverly asked.
"No, it hit with more impact this time," Picard admitted.
"And you also felt something yourself, Deanna?" Beverly inquired.
Deanna nodded.
"It was like a memory. A dark thought," Deanna explained.
"At that moment, I was remembering being at the helm of the Stargazer. We were hit. My helmsman was down. Something is burning. I can smell smoke," Picard said, lost in the memory.
His change from past to present tense had not gone unnoticed by Data. In fact, it reminded him of the night terrors Tasha experienced from time to time.
"Can you smell it?" Picard asked.
His eyes were wide with alarm. The memory was so powerful, it overwhelmed his sense of reality.
"There is nothing burning, Captain," Data said.
Captain Picard shook his head.
"Just a memory," Picard said quickly.
"Memory or nightmare?" Deanna inquired.
"What it was, it was strong," Picard informed them.
Suddenly, the Bridge opened a channel to the Observation Lounge.
"Sir, we thought you should be aware we've identified the ship," Riker said. "It's the USS Stargazer. Your old ship."
"Thank you, Number One," Picard acknowledged.
Captain Picard took one look at Beverly and then turned to Data.
He had one priority and that was getting medical clearance to head over to the Stargazer.
The Captain wasn't thinking clearly, and they could all see it.
"Sir, with your permission should we conduct a security sweep first?" Data recommended. "And begin looking for a suitable location to drop the ship off before continuing on to the Jaradan sector?"
The arrival of a second, unannounced ship could provoke the delicate situation with the Jarada.
"Fine, fine," Picard agreed.
Two hours later, they had completed their preliminary security sweeps and readied a team. The Ferengi were still hanging around the area. But according to DaiMon Bok they were waiting to rendezvous with a trade vessel and that's why they had asked the Enterprise to meet them in this location.
Data, Tasha, Geordi, and Worf were all now aboard the derelict ship. Three of them were equipped with EV suits. All four of them had gravity boots for the initial transport. While Data did not require the same environmental conditions to survive, he did need gravity boots in order to manoeuvre throughout the vessel.
Life support systems weren't functioning, but their scans indicated that the emergency power cells were undamaged. Geordi believed if they could reactivate the emergency power, they would be able to get the other basic functions operating in short order.
While Geordi and Worf set off to search for the emergency power system, Data and Tasha conducted a sweep of the Bridge.
With his torch in hand, Data scanned the Bridge, settling on a plaque fused to the wall.
"USS Stargazer. Constellation class. Starfleet Registry NCC-2893," Data read aloud.
Tasha shined her flashlight on the various consoles as she evaluated the damage. There were charred panels and carpet, debris from where one of the science stations had overloaded, and bodies of four Bridge officers that had been lost that day – frozen in time from the cold of space, protected from the elements, and hardly decomposed.
She verbally activated her communication channel back to the Chief.
"Chief, we've got a number of bodies on the Bridge," Tasha advised. "Can you transport them back to the Enterprise?"
While they were long deceased, they could offer them proper funerary rights in accordance with their own individual customs.
"Aye, stand by," Miles responded.
A few moments later, the bodies dematerialised as they were transported back to the Enterprise.
"It's spooky being here," Tasha commented.
Tasha knew that the Stargazer had sustained heavy damage and casualties during her final mission. She had been in communication with Captain Picard at that time and understood just how heavily the incident weighed on his conscience.
It was during her final year at Starfleet Academy.
The event had triggered court martial proceedings for Captain Picard. The investigation and hearings had dragged on for months. Because of the serious nature of the loss, such an important hearing was conducted at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco.
Tasha couldn't recall ever seeing the Captain so distressed as he had been during those days.
"Tasha?" Data said, pulling her back to reality.
"Sorry," she said.
Before they could say anything else, the emergency lighting came on and Data heard a familiar hum as the life support system kicked in.
The panels on the Bridge lit up and came to life.
Tasha and Data deactivated their torches. It only took a few moments for life support to provide a safe atmosphere. Tasha detached the helmet of her EV suit and clipped it to her waist.
Next, she tried to pull off her glove. Gloves on EV suits were always difficult to manage.
As Tasha struggled to remove the loathsome glove, she felt Data run his hand back through her hair, brushing her bangs out of her eyes.
"Thanks," she grinned.
Geordi and Worf appeared a moment later.
"I activated the emergency power cells. Amazing they still work," Geordi said as he removed his helmet.
"Engineering is clear," Worf advised. "There were two casualties. Chief O'Brien is taking care of them."
Geordi let out a low whistle as he examined the Tactical console.
"I studied this ship at the Academy. Virtually. I never dreamed I'd ever get the chance to actually step foot on her," Geordi said in admiration.
Data glanced over to Tasha.
"In your opinion, is it safe to bring aboard Captain Picard, Lieutenant?" Data inquired.
"Not yet," Tasha answered. "I'd like conduct a structural analysis for the purpose of an impulse tow first, conduct a full sweep, ensure the Ferengi haven't rigged any of these panels to overcharge, scan the logs-"
She trailed off.
"We should probably clear out the rest of the casualties first," Tasha added.
Worf volunteered to take up the search for bodies. He would ensure they were identified and transported back safely to the Enterprise.
Meanwhile, Geordi sat down at the Engineering console on the back of the Bridge and set to work on evaluating the ship's propulsion system.
Tasha keyed in a Starfleet emergency access command code that enabled her to begin a structural analysis of the ship's systems.
"Hey, can I ask you two a question?" Geordi said as he punched away at the console in front of him.
He didn't wait for a response.
"Mood music. For dinner. Soft jazz or a classical guitar?" Geordi asked. "Or nothing at all? Is it too much?"
Data and Tasha looked up at one another from across the Bridge.
"Guys?" Geordi pressed.
"Is this about your dinner tonight?" Tasha asked.
She tapped the Tactical console and started examining the aft hull for structural integrity.
"Yeah," Geordi answered. "I'm making pasta alla Fiorella. Homemade pasta noodles, roasted asparagus, I've got a bottle of real wine I've been saving for ages."
He had meticulously cleaned his quarters and spent an hour arranging and then rearranging his furniture in order to set up just the right setting. He had tested three different types of candles to find perfect illumination and pulled a new casual shirt from ship's stores for the occasion.
"I thought you said you wanted to do something that was just casual?" Tasha asked.
Geordi didn't respond.
"I'm not saying you should change your plans," Tasha clarified.
Tasha kicked herself internally. Geordi's silence indicated his mind was spiralling now.
"But you are saying it's too much," Geordi sighed.
He grumbled something incoherent to himself.
"Did it again, didn't I?" Geordi sighed.
Simultaneously, Tasha said 'no' while Data said 'yes.'
They looked up at one another. Wordlessly, Tasha chastised Data for his response. In her opinion, Geordi needed a boost of confidence.
Contrary to her look, Data raised his eyebrows. In his opinion, Geordi needed honesty.
"Whenever you two are done arguing in silence with one another, can you fill me in on the conclusion?" Geordi quipped.
"Geordi, Ensign Gomez wants to spend time with you," Tasha said, hoping to encourage him. "Just be your wonderful, sweet self. Maybe you could ask her if she wants to listen to music after she arrives?"
"Data?" Geordi asked.
Data tipped his head to the side and gave Tasha an apologetic look.
"I believe you are, as they say, overthinking this," Data said frankly.
Half an hour later, Worf had completed his search for any remaining casualties and had cleared all the major departments for a preliminary safety inspection.
Geordi had completed his analysis of engines. In his opinion, the ship was in good condition and could be towed to an appropriate spacedock.
Both Worf and Geordi had returned to the Enterprise. Worf was putting together a security detail to work through the final security logs analysing the Ferengi attack. They had so little information about Ferengi tactics, it would be a vital resource to study their battle strategy.
"Most intriguing," Data remarked.
"What?" Tasha asked.
"The last entry dated over a decade ago. We are forced to abandon our starship. May she find her way without us," Data read aloud. "Apparently, she did."
"We should download all of these computer logs back to the Enterprise," Tasha said. "And then we'll need to conduct a level one security sweep of the Captain's cabin. I'd also like to get a team over here to patch up the damaged section on deck eighteen."
Data's brow wrinkled.
"We can seal the emergency bulkheads at the primary junctions between decks seventeen and fifteen. That will secure the area," Data recommended.
"I'd rather make sure it's patched up before we bring anyone else over," Tasha pushed back.
"Tasha, why are you delaying approval for Captain Picard to come aboard?" Data asked.
They'd been dancing around it for the last fifteen minutes and Data decided it was time to address the issue directly.
Every time they cleared one hurdle to bringing over the Captain, Tasha found another excuse to delay it.
"He doesn't need this right now," Tasha said in a warning tone.
"What are you not telling me?" Data asked.
Tasha sighed in exasperation as she crossed her arms. She was chewing on the inside of her lip, trying to find the best way to say what had been knocking around in her brain since they had first identified the Stargazer.
"Data, the Stargazer court martial was a rather difficult situation for the Captain," Tasha said, choosing her words carefully.
She didn't want to say anything that would make the other crew question Captain Picard's judgement or give them a false impression.
Although it was just Data, Tasha was concerned about saying the wrong thing.
"I just don't think it's a good idea for the Captain to beam over here and get this in his head before we meet with the Jarada," Tasha said.
As if on cue, Captain Picard radioed over to the Stargazer.
It was the third time in the last twenty minutes.
"I do not believe you can stop him," Data said.
"Commander Data? Lieutenant Yar? What's the update?" Picard demanded.
"What if we were to tow it to Starbase Coleman? We could come back after the Jaradan situation is dealt with," Tasha suggested.
"Will the Captain not continue to fixate on the matter regardless?" Data asked. "Would it not be better to permit him to confront his feelings and move on?"
She hated to admit that he had a point.
Data was pleased with himself. During his last counselling session with Deanna, Data had been working on confronting his own traumatic memories in order to process them.
"We're all clear, sir," Tasha said begrudgingly.
They couldn't see it from their position, but over on the Bridge of the Enterprise, Captain Picard clapped his hands together in excitement.
He relayed his request to the Transporter Room.
A moment later, the Captain rematerialised on the Bridge of his old ship.
Captain Picard glanced around at the state of the Bridge.
He paused in front of the helm, resting his hands on the back of the burned seat.
"Very strange," Picard remarked. "Like going back to the house you grew up in, but one is home – except the phantoms of the past."
Jean-Luc had spent most of his career on the Stargazer - twenty-three years to be precise and he had been in command for twenty-two of those years.
It was the longest of any of his Starfleet postings.
His final moments on this ship had been turmoil.
Rushed, frantic, bittersweet turmoil.
Although the Stargazer had successfully managed to destroy the Ferengi vessel, it had taken its fair share of lumps to make it happen. She had been rendered derelict and there was no way they would have been able to survive long enough to reach a starbase.
In a moment of radical acceptance of the situation, Jean-Luc Picard had reluctantly issued General Order Thirteen to abandon ship.
The evacuation had taken six minutes and forty-two seconds according to the shuttle logs.
"The last time I stood on this Bridge was to order my crew to abandon their home," Picard said aloud, recalling the moment. "We didn't have time to recover the dead."
"We've got them, sir," Tasha informed him. "We'll see that they are taken care of."
"We were finished," Picard went on. "On fire. The breach on deck eighteen sealed our fate."
Captain Picard made his way over to the Operations console and ran his hand across the top.
"We limped along in shuttlecraft for weeks before our distress call was picked up," Picard continued. "They dropped us at Starbase 41. Then it was on to the Mecklenburg and then on to San Francisco-"
The Captain trailed off, lost in a memory.
"I haven't thought about this in years," Picard confessed.
He sighed and then turned toward his old Ready Room.
"Vigo, let's bring the Stargazer in under a tractor beam. Relay the request back to the Enterprise," Picard ordered.
"Sir, who is Vigo?" Data asked.
Captain Picard chuckled softly.
"Vigo was my weapons officer," Picard explained.
He put his hands on his hips.
"I'm getting quite caught up in this," Picard realised aloud.
"Yes, sir. I think you are," Tasha said.
"I wasn't asking for opinions on the matter, Lieutenant," Captain Picard said.
"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," Tasha replied.
"We were travelling at warp two through the Maxia Zeta star system when this unidentified starship suddenly appeared and fired on us," Picard recounted.
"And you didn't notice anything on sensors?" Riker asked. "I didn't think the Ferengi had cloaking technology."
Captain Picard, Commander Riker, and Data were in the Captain's Ready Room aboard the Enterprise. They had transported all of the Captain's personal belongings back to the ship. He was supposed to be meeting with Data and Commander Riker to discuss next steps with the derelict ship.
But he was having a tricky time concentrating as he combed through his old personal effects.
"To the Lighthouse," Captain Picard said fondly as he thumbed through his old copy of the book. "I had only made it as far as the dinner party at the end of part one when we abandoned the ship. And I've never finished the book since."
He set the book down on the surface of his desk and resolved that he would pick up the book again later that night.
He reached into his old trunk and smiled.
"Take a look at this one," Picard said as he tossed an antique picture frame across to Commander Riker on the couch.
Commander Riker held the photo out so both he and Data could view it.
It was a picture of a young Jean-Luc Picard in his old red uniform from his Academy days. Unlike the Captain's usual serious demeanour, this man seemed to carry himself in a jovial manner.
"Or this one," Picard said before tossing another photo frame over to Riker.
"Her wedding?" Riker asked as he studied the image.
"Best man," Picard informed him.
Commander Riker passed the photo to Data.
Staring back was the image of one Beverly Crusher. She was making a face alongside a tall man that was beaming. Standing next to them – and making an equally silly face – was none other than Captain Picard.
It was so out of character for the nearly always stoic Captain.
What they couldn't see from the photograph was just how bittersweet that day had been. Jean-Luc had really put on a show for the wedding. He was pleased to bits that Beverly and Jack Crusher had gotten the wedding of their dreams.
On the inside, his heart had been breaking that day.
Captain Picard shook the memory from his mind and moved on to the next photo.
"Here we go," Picard smirked.
Commander Riker caught the next frame and laughed.
"Why does this not surprise me?" Riker said.
He turned the picture over to Data. Data gasped softly with fascination as he studied the image.
There was a note in the corner that read 'Boothby says water your daylily. P.S. I won – T.'
Tasha Yar, maybe all of seventeen, was a sight of pure bliss. She was holding a large, golden trophy with both hands, planting a kiss on the side of it.
In the background of the image was the old hanger. Even during Data's time at the Academy the hanger was known as the place that hosted motorbike races, organised fights, and gambling.
Captain Picard spent his own fair share of hours down at the hanger – drinking, gambling, and fighting. For folks like Jean-Luc Picard, the hanger was the chance to prove himself, to show that he was something more than a privileged, educated boy from a well-off vineyard.
For Tasha Yar, it had been a sense of the familiar, minus the risks of Turkana, and a chance to earn money.
Dismayed with the insider politics of her Academy experience, Tasha Yar had found herself seeking a change of pace. Jean-Luc Picard had suggested she share a chat with Boothby from time to time and that she stop by the hanger and look up an old fight promoter named Reggie the Ham.
The rest was history.
"I never showed you that," Picard warned.
"Understood, sir," Data responded.
Later that afternoon, Data was down in Engineering with Geordi. Wesley was showing them the changes he had made to long-range sensors.
They were back on course to the Jaradan system and were due to make a small detour to Starbase Coleman to drop off the Stargazer. It was presently being towed along with a tractor beam.
Captain Picard had been content to continue pouring through his old belongings and the rest of the crew was continuing on with their preparations for the meeting with the Jarada.
"So I was playing around with the amplifier we worked on for those flyby readings when we passed through the Uswat star cluster," Wesley explained. "And I reprogrammed the system so I could hook it up to our sensor frequencies."
"This is some pretty advanced stuff," Geordi commented.
"Well done, Wesley," Data praised.
It was good work from a theoretical perspective. Unfortunately, the energy output required to maintain such a broad sensor range was a drain on the ship's resources.
"It's great, Wes. But it's just not practical to keep the improved range running," Geordi informed him.
Wes nodded, looking slightly dejected.
"However, this tool will prove most effective in long-range science missions," Data said, hoping to buck up Wesley's feelings.
"Data's right," Geordi added, catching the hint. "This has some great applications."
Wesley's face broke out into a broad smile.
"Gee, thanks guys," Wes said, feeling better than he had a minute earlier.
"Look, we'll get this cleaned up here. Aren't you due for transporter coil maintenance with Chief O'Brien?" Geordi asked.
"Thanks!" Wes said before racing off to his next assignment.
Data and Geordi began to disconnect Wesley's project. While Geordi safely powered down the amplifier, Data patched the sensors back into their regular power conduits.
Focused on the amplifier, Geordi seemed to be much more at ease than he had been a few hours earlier.
"I am pleased to see you have relaxed before your date," Data commented.
Geordi froze.
"My date," he whispered.
"Geordi?" Data questioned.
"My date!" Geordi repeated louder.
He dropped his sonic driver and raced out of Engineering.
"Geordi?" Data called after him.
By the time Data and Geordi reached his quarters, the acrid smell of something burnt had already made its way into the corridor and was lingering in the area.
Stepping inside, Geordi's mood plummeted.
On top of his table were two temperature force shields. They were commonly used to keep meals at the ideal hot or cold temperature until they could be consumed.
However, creative Starfleet personnel had learned that they could manipulate the settings. When properly attuned they would work like a functioning oven – only they were typically much slower than a historical oven.
Geordi had spent hours making homemade pasta, slicing vegetables, and creating the perfect sauce. He had also gone through the painstaking process of creating a double-chocolate souffle.
But he had placed the wrong dish under the incorrect force shield.
His glorious pasta alla Fiorella was charred to a crisp.
The souffle was nothing more than a chocolatey goop.
Geordi turned to Data and gripped his shoulders.
"Sonya's going to be here in less than an hour!" Geordi cried.
"I will help you return your quarters to a state of orderliness," Data offered.
"It's no good! The dinner is ruined!" Geordi bemoaned.
"Perhaps you could replicate something?" Data suggested.
Geordi dropped his hands to his hips and began pacing around the room.
"Oh what's the use? I promised her something special and now I've ruined it because I'm a ball of nerves," Geordi lamented.
It was hard for Data to see Geordi so distraught. The always cool, ever composed Engineer was struggling to think, reduced to a state of anxiety about screwing up a date with someone he really cared about impressing.
"Geordi, what would you do if this were a situation in Engineering?" Data asked, hoping to redirect Geordi's attention toward a solution.
Geordi snapped his fingers.
"That's it!" Geordi said triumphantly.
He stepped over to the table and studied the force shield around the souffle.
"Computer, increase the energy output of force shield B six times," Geordi instructed.
"Geordi? Are you sure that is a wise idea?" Data asked, concerned about the sudden increase in energy.
Geordi looked up from across the table and had a big smile plastered on his face.
"Sure! I'll crank this up and it will be done in no time. I'll still have this delicious, homemade dessert. I'll replicate something else for dinner and promise to make it up to her next time," Geordi said brightly. "That way I save the evening and set myself up for a second date."
Geordi laughed.
Data smiled and nodded politely.
The souffle exploded.
A loud 'pop' sounded.
The dessert burst, sending spongey, chocolate goop in every direction – hitting the walls and covering the ceiling with a sickening 'splat.'
Geordi and Data bore the brunt of the exploded souffle. It had nailed both of them in the face and over the front of their uniforms.
"Don't say it," Geordi warned.
"I was going to say the aroma is enticing," Data replied.
"Yeah, yeah," Geordi said as he detached his VISOR.
He set it down on the table and made a beeline for the built-in cabinet in order to fetch a flannel to clean his face.
The door chimed to Geordi's quarters.
"Do I even want to know what you two are up to in here?" a voice asked.
It was Commander Riker.
"I got a report there was a fire on this deck. The whole corridor is choked with the smell of something burning," Riker reported. "So I came racing down here and find the two of are, what? Blowing up cupcakes?"
"It's a homemade double-chocolate souffle with a hint of raspberry flavouring, real vanilla beans from Madagascar, and I whipped those egg whites myself," Geordi said stiffly.
"If you can believe it, sir, the burnt smell is an entirely separate matter from the souffle incident," Data added as he wiped the gooey chocolate from his eyes.
"I might as well tell her to forget it," Geordi grumbled. "I've already ruined enough things today. I don't need to put my foot in my mouth tonight."
"This is for a date?" Riker asked.
"Yeah," Geordi replied as he rubbed his face clean.
Geordi tossed Data a second flannel. Data stared down at his uniform and thought there was a little a towel could do to help at this point.
"Maybe I can help," Riker offered.
"Mmm," Tasha said as she licked her finger. "Not bad."
"You delivered the note?" Data asked.
"Everything is in place," Tasha assured him.
Data had dropped by her quarters a half hour earlier – coated in a chocolate – with a rather urgent request.
Miles hadn't been far behind with a specially clipped rose that Keiko had provided.
He'd taken one look at Data and couldn't stop giggling.
Tasha had ushered him out as she raced off to deliver a handwritten note to Ensign Gomez.
When Tasha had returned, Data still hadn't cleaned up. He was too nervous and wanted to be certain the plan was executed without any hiccups.
She swiped her finger along his cheek and then popped it into her mouth.
"I thought you wanted to cover me in chocolate?" she teased.
"This was not intentional," Data protested.
Tasha gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"I'm not complaining," she replied.
She turned him around and pushed him toward the shower.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Tasha said.
Data turned around and tried his best to switch on his alluring persona.
"I thought maybe you wanted to clean it off me?" he asked, lowering his voice.
He ran his own finger along the side of his face and offered it to her.
Tasha looked down at it and then back up at Data.
"Data, I don't think you realise how erm - coated - you are," Tasha said.
"Hours of fun," Data retorted.
Tasha grinned.
"You have chocolate in your nose," Tasha informed him.
She kissed the tip of his finger.
Data's demeanour immediately changed.
He held his hand up under his nose and began to wiggle it.
"Shower," Tasha ordered.
"Will?" Deanna asked between kisses.
He didn't answer.
"Will?" Deanna pressed.
"Yes, Imzadi?" he responded.
"Why are we here?" Deanna asked.
Riker smiled against her neck.
"Because in the grand scheme of the universe, things happened to work out that our two little specks of dust landed on the same ship together," Riker said sweetly.
He peppered a trail of kisses along the line of her jaw.
"You know what I mean," Deanna protested. "Why are we in the middle of subsection J32 of a Jefferies tube?"
They had been scheduled to have dinner together in his quarters. Instead, Will had shown up at her door with a blanket and a bottle of wine. He told her knew of a special spot and he couldn't imagine taking her anywhere else.
"Because under this lighting you look simply marvellous," Will said. "Your eyes are like starlight. And I want to lose myself in your universe."
He growled and captured her lips again.
Riker stopped when Deanna did not react.
"Try again," she said.
"All the tables at Ten Forward were booked," Will replied.
He moved in for a third time, but Deanna put out a hand to stop him.
"Will. What's really going on?" Deanna asked.
Will Riker sat back against the wall of the Jefferies tube and apologised.
"Geordi's got a big date and he got himself all worked up about it," Riker explained. "To make a long story short, he needed a homemade meal on the fly after his, well, exploded."
"And so you-" Deanna started to say.
"Gave him our date night to try and pass off as his own," Riker confessed.
"Poor Geordi," Deanna said sadly.
Commander Riker's brow furrowed.
"What do you mean, 'poor Geordi'?" Riker asked.
"Your lamb chops are terrible," Deanna replied.
Will's face fell.
"But you're a sweet man, Will Riker," Deanna assured him.
She leaned in to give him a kiss. This time, Riker put out a hand to stop her.
"My lamb chops are terrible? Since when?" Riker asked.
He was quite touchy about his cooking.
"Since always," Deanna admitted with a small smile. "But I will gladly put up with them because it means being with you."
She reached out and cupped his face, trying to reassure him that it was alright. She could sense, deep down, that he wasn't really hurt.
"We've known each other for years and you're just now telling me this?" Will said in mock disbelief.
She looped her fingers through his and brought his hand up to her lips.
"I need a moment to think about this," Riker said.
"Well, take all the time you need. I was going to ask you back to my quarters for dessert," Deanna said. "But perhaps you should work through your feelings with some quiet reflection on your own instead."
She grabbed the bottle of wine.
"I'll be taking this. You shouldn't drink alone," Deanna advised sarcastically.
She started to crawl off.
"Imzadi! Imzadi, wait," Will said as he raced after her.
"I didn't realise you played the trombone," Sonya commented as she spied the trombone on its stand in the corner.
"Oh I don't," Geordi answered.
Sonya frowned in confusion.
"I-I mean I don't. Right now. I'm not playing it at the moment," Geordi attempted to cover.
Real smooth. He quipped sarcastically to himself.
"Oh," Sonya replied politely.
She had her hands folded behind her back and was rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.
They were standing about five metres apart from one another.
"Are all the senior officer's quarters this big?" Sonya asked.
Geordi laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to formulate an answer.
"One could get lost in here, yanno?" she said.
Sonya brought her hand up to cup her mouth.
"Hello, hello, hello?" she called out as if to mimic an echo in a cave.
"That's great," Geordi replied.
Silence fell between the pair as they were both unsure what to say.
Sonya spied a row of objects and pictures along the wall and thought perhaps she could use that to start a conversation.
"Oh! Is this your family?" Sonya asked as she began to step over to the shelf.
Geordi panicked.
"No, no," Geordi said strangely, stepping between her and the shelf to block her view.
He reached behind him and turned down the photo frame that held a picture of Commander Riker as a child.
"Why do you have a picture of Commander Riker?" Sonya asked, eyeing another photo down the row.
"Erm, well. We uh, we served together. On the Hood," Geordi said.
Internally, Geordi groaned.
It wasn't a lie. But it also didn't explain the odd nature of having a picture of the First Officer in quarters that he was pretending were his own.
"Cool," Sonya said in earnest. "I think it's neat you're close with your friends."
Geordi breathed a sigh of relief.
"Food?" Geordi managed to squeak out.
"Yeah. I'm starved," Sonya replied.
They made their way over to the table. Geordi poured Sonya glass of wine and then took his own seat. He ordered the computer to remove the force shield that was keeping their plates warm.
Sonya looked down at the plate before her and then up at Geordi and grinned.
"This is really nice," she said. "Thank you."
"It's an old family recipe," Geordi said, feeling more confident by the minute.
Geordi cut a piece of meat off and popped it into his mouth.
At the other end of the table, Sonya also began to eat.
"Mmm," Geordi began to say.
Suddenly, his face fell.
Sonya stopped chewing.
Simultaneously, they both reached for their napkins and spat out the foul-tasting meat.
Geordi put his head in his hands and took a deep, shaky breath.
"It's not bad," Sonya said from the other end of the table. "I really like the potatoes!"
Geordi looked around the room and then took a sip of his wine.
"The wine is lovely," Sonya added, trying to cheer him up.
Gods she's sweet. Geordi thought to himself.
"Sonya, I need to confess something," Geordi said. "Something important. And when I tell you, I won't blame you if you run out of this room and never talk to me again."
"The lamb is really Targ?" Sonya joked.
She had been hoping to lighten the mood.
But Geordi's face remained sour. He shook his head.
Sonya put her hands in her lap. She wasn't sure what to say. Geordi seemed so serious.
"I'm not who you think I am," Geordi said. "Rather, I'm not what you think I am."
There was a pregnant pause.
"Are you the Romulan spy everyone's gossiping about?" Sonya asked in a hushed voice.
Her eyes went wide with fear as she glanced around the room.
"Oh my gods! Am I going to die?" she said, panicked. "I don't know anything! I swear!"
"What?" Geordi shouted. "No!"
Sonya pushed her chair back and put her hands out as she began to back away from the table.
"I'm an antimatter specialist but there are about three hundred more qualified experts than me," Sonya said quickly. "I-I've never even been in charge of a shift rotation. Coolant systems are a breeze, but Federation politics are like trying to learn Klingon for me. I wouldn't know a command function from a comic book."
"Sonya-" Geordi said.
"Oh Professor Hawley was right! I wasn't cut out for the Flagship. I'm an incoherent, babbling-" Sonya went on.
"Ensign Gomez!" Geordi snapped to get her attention.
Sonya stopped.
"I'm not a Romulan spy," Geordi said.
"Oh," Sonya said simply.
She blinked a few times, still perplexed about what was happening.
Geordi's shoulders slumped.
"These aren't my quarters," he confessed. "This. All of this is fake."
He motioned to the dinner on the table and the trombone in the corner.
Sonya looked around and then leaned in.
"Are we on the holodeck?" she whispered.
"No," Geordi whispered back. "Why are you whispering?"
"I don't know," Sonya replied in a hushed voice.
It was all so ridiculous.
Geordi started to laugh. He couldn't contain it anymore. Their evening had gone so wildly off the rails.
A sniffle from the other end of the table brought him back to reality.
"So what is this then?" Sonya asked. "Some kind of cruel practical joke?"
She thumbed away a tear, embarrassed at herself for starting to cry.
"Well, good one Lieutenant," Sonya said bitterly. "Hope you got your kicks. I'll be going now."
Sonya took two steps to the door and then whipped around.
"But if you think I'm going to just roll over and be treated like this you've got another thing coming. You can bet I'll warn whatever poor Ensign you try to pull this crap on next," Sonya said in a raised voice.
She dropped her eyes to the floor.
"I really thought you were better than this," she said sadly.
Geordi had been so taken aback by her reaction, he hadn't been able to come up with a response.
"Sonya, wait!" Geordi said.
He jumped up from the table and raced over to catch her just before she got to the door.
"I lied. I lied about all of this. These are Commander Riker's quarters," Geordi explained. "I had this great big, beautiful dinner planned and I screwed it up because I was so nervous about tonight. I burned the pasta. I blew up a cake. I covered Data in chocolate-"
"You covered Commander Data in chocolate? That wasn't supposed to be a part of the date, was it?" Sonya asked, concerned.
Geordi waved his hands in the negative.
"Not remotely," he assured her.
He took hold of her hands.
"I didn't want to do too much and scare you off. At the same time I was worried if it wasn't perfect that you wouldn't be interested in me," Geordi admitted. "I was so worried about impressing you that I psyched myself out."
Sonya didn't respond.
"I can prove it to you!" Geordi insisted. "The burned pasta smell is still lingering around my quarters. There's chocolate on the ceiling. I can show you."
To Geordi's dismay, she said nothing.
"Everybody can back me up. Tasha delivered the note. Riker made the food because this was supposed to be his date. Keiko got me the rose. Please let me prove it to you, Sonya," Geordi said urgently. "Please don't walk out that door."
"You did all of that for me?" Sonya asked.
"Now you probably think I'm a nutter," Geordi sighed.
Sonya gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"I think it's rather thoughtful," she said.
Geordi froze.
"I like your spark," Sonya told him.
"Commander Riker didn't catch you ahead of time and tip you off, did he?" Geordi asked quietly.
Sonya shook her head.
"I was only late because I spilled hot cocoa all over my first outfit," Sonya shared. "It calms my nerves. You weren't the only one worried about making a good impression."
For the first time all night, Geordi felt like he could breathe.
"Do you want to shrug off all this fancy stuff and do something more relaxed instead?" Geordi suggested.
He was nervous about going to Ten Forward at such a late hour alone. While they'd shared a few drinks after shifts, Geordi didn't want anyone on the Engineering staff to get the wrong impression or think that he was playing favourites with Sonya's recent project appointments.
"Let's clean this up and I know just the place," Sonya assured him.
"It's just a little bit further," Sonya said as they made their way down the corridor.
Geordi and Sonya had gone down a few decks and were in a largely abandoned area of the ship. There wasn't much around this part of the deck other than storage and an engineering subcommand console.
They had stopped by Sonya's quarters to grab a thermos of hot cocoa. As it turned out, they were both collectors of a card strategy game called Age of Sail. Geordi had been playing for ages and didn't know that Sonya was a fiend.
Other than Reg, Miles, and Data, Geordi didn't know anyone else aboard that was keen to play.
"I picked up the Man O' War deck when we were on shore leave," Sonya said. "It came with two rare cards including a Red Lion. I'm building a new deck, you see. Really putting my focus on heavier cannon ships."
Sonya detached an access panel to crawl into the Jefferies tube.
"Hey! Get your own Jefferies tube," Riker snapped.
He and Deanna had never made it back to her quarters.
"Sorry, Commander," Sonya squeaked.
Geordi reached down and quickly tried to replace the panel.
"Hey! Wait! How was the food?" Riker shouted desperately as Geordi resealed the access panel.
Across the ship, Captain Picard set down his old copy of To the Lighthouse on the nightstand. After having it returned, he decided it might be nice to pick up reading where he'd left off a decade earlier.
Jean-Luc closed his eyes and massaged his temples.
His headache was back, and it was stronger than ever.
But it was nothing compared to what happened to Vigo and the rest of my crew. Picard thought to himself.
And the Ferengi.
DaiMon Bok's comment about his conscience had been hanging around him like a shadow all afternoon.
And it seemed that as the hours ticked by, the ghosts of the past crept closer to the forefront of his mind.
He didn't want to wake Beverly at this hour. She'd only insist on a series of invasive tests to try and rule out a medical cause.
Inside, Jean-Luc felt like this wasn't a medical issue.
His heart was heavy with guilt.
He may have been cleared by a court martial investigative panel.
But it didn't ease the pain of destroying a vessel and the loss of thirty-two fine Starfleet officers.
Captain's personal log. Stardate 41278.9. A Ferengi known as DaiMon Bok has produced a ghost ship from my past. After drifting through space for ten years, the Stargazer has found her way back to me. The Ferengi turned the ship over with no expectations of compensation. An unusual notion given what little we know of the Ferengi.
While I am thrilled to have my personal effects returned to me and to know that the ship somehow survived, I find myself overwhelmed with the memory of that time in my life and the consequences of losing my beloved ship.