Chapter 47

By the time the doors to the lift opened, his mind had begun to focus again, despite his fast-beating heart. Still, if he had been alone, he would have doubled-over with his hands on his knees just to calm himself further. But he immediately noticed that he was not alone, and he straightened his posture accordingly.

"Sir! Where have you been?" Lieutenant Tasha Yar hurried over, quickly leaving a conversation with one of her security team members. Lieutenant Worf also turned from staring out a window into the evening sunset to regard the Captain as he stepped out of the elevator.

Picard tried to compose himself further, but the upper half of his uniform, he realized, was drenched in sweat; a result of what he was certain had been a near-death experience. His encounter with Petral, Reth, and Reth's pet hunting companion had left him shaken, mostly because the earlier bits of information he had learned about the Ciapathians had now been combined with other facts. Now, disturbing new theories began to form like dark clouds in his mind.

Tasha's young face was creased with concern. "Sir...what happened to you? Are you alright?"

He smiled tightly and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine, Lieutenant. But I need to speak with you about increasing the security arrangements."

Will hesitated outside of Beverly Crusher's temporary quarters. The door was wide open, and she was sitting on the edge of the bed, studying some readouts on her tricorder. Despite the information he had passed along to her during their last conversation-that Del had warned her away from Ciapathia based on Petral's fixation on her, she appeared calm. The frown on her face was one of concentration rather than anger, at least as far as he could tell.

"Doctor..."

She looked up sharply. "Yes?"

"Captain Picard is back."

She stood up. "Where has he been?"

Riker shifted uncomfortably. "He's not giving a lot of detail. But, I think it would be best if you examine him. He's...off somehow. He thinks he's only been gone for ten minutes."

Her face went blank. "It's been almost two hours since he disappeared!"

Will nodded grimly. "Yep."

Wordlessly, she turned away to grab her medkit. Breezing by him, he wasn't quick enough to stop her. "Wait, Beverly, did you decide what you're going to do?"

She halted and turned slowly back to him. "No. And as soon as possible, I need to speak with my son."

Riker nodded. "Of course, we'll make that happen this evening."

"Thanks." She raised her medkit in a parting gesture, before turning back in the direction she'd started in.

The Captain was in the main living area, talking quietly with Yar and Worf, but his voice held a distinct edge. Yar had a notably puzzled expression on her face as she listened to him. "No...I don't want to increase the number of security personnel, Lieutenant. What I want is for us to think about this very carefully, and use technology to do as much of the dangerous work for us as possible."

"You mean, surveillance, sir..."

"That is part of what I'm thinking, yes."

"Well sir... one, we'll need to connect with our engineering team on the Enterprise, and two...we'll need to beam down some equipment."

"It can't be anything too obvious, Lieutenant."

"Understood, Captain". She glanced at Commander Riker and Doctor Crusher, who were approaching. "Uh...as I mentioned before, sir, it would help to have more information about where you've been during the last two hours. If we knew more about the layout of the hospital-"

"I told you-" he cut off trying to compose himself. "I've only been gone a few minutes. It all happened so quickly. I went down the lift, and I encountered Petral and Reth-"

"You did what?" Beverly stepped closer, clearly outraged. Picard turned distractedly in her direction.

"Doctor," Riker warned. He was still getting used to the fact that no other member of the new crew had a license to speak to the captain in quite the same way that Crusher did. He'd asked Deanna how best to handle the dynamic between the two officers that could range from chilly to volatile in seconds, and she had come out with an unexpectedly non-Deanna-like answer. "Don't even try."

Meanwhile, Beverly ignored Riker's attempts to reign her in. "Did you go down there looking for Doctor Petral? Don't you realize what could have happened? The man is psychotic, Jean-Luc."

He exhaled and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I realize now that I made a mistake," he admitted mildly.

"A mistake," she echoed as though she hadn't quite heard what he'd said. She looked at Riker for help, but Will just shook his head, trying more subtly to warn her off.

"Yes," the Captain said tightly. "Now...moving on-"

"Did I hear you tell Tasha that you were only gone a few minutes?" Crusher persisted.

He frowned but didn't say anything. He knew he'd only been gone a little while, and yet everyone was looking at him as though he had lost his mind. And the truth was, he couldn't put anything past Petral. What if he had been drugged? Beverly was still speaking, he realized.

She crooked her index finger at him impatiently. "Come with me...I need to examine you."

"Not yet-"

"Time is of the essence," Beverly insisted. "Something could be in your system, Captain. Petral could have drugged you."

"Sir, she's right," Riker interjected. "Everyone in this room can confirm that you were gone for at least two hours and that you were out of communication with any of us."

"The likelihood of foul play is high," Yar agreed. "Captain I will move quickly to get those extra security measures in place." She glanced at Worf, who was standing amongst her security officers and looked as though his head was going to blow off. "Sir, permission to have Lieutenant Worf work with me on this?"

Riker nodded. "Good idea." He watched as Yar, Worf, and the security contingent charged off, eager to have something useful to contribute to this strange situation. Riker could relate to that feeling. He eyed the Captain and Crusher who were now glaring at each other silently. Not eager to break up the staring contest, he made eye contact with Deanna, who was sitting on the couch observing closely in that unobtrusive way she had. Unlike him, she was never uncomfortable in situations like this, and he knew that from experience. It was a matter of time until she intervened and calmed everyone down.

Beverly finally spoke with more than a little impatience. "Well, Captain...shall we do the examination here, or would you like some privacy?"

He inhaled and smoothed his uniform. "I don't need any privacy," he said, moving to sit down the couch next to Troi, who looked at him with some surprise.

Beverly blinked, trying to brush away her irritation. He doesn't want to be alone with me. "Okay," she allowed easily and pulled a chair over to sit down in front of him. She opened her medkit and began to scan him. "Your adrenaline levels are elevated. I'm going to give you something to normalize them and calm you down."

"I am quite calm," he said flatly, looking vacantly past her while she continued her exam.

"You might say so, but your body is telling me otherwise," she replied, twisting a nodule on her tricorder.

"Fine," he conceded as she loaded a hypospray and pressed it into the side of his neck. He then attempted to get to his feet. "Are you done?"

She put a quick hand on his shoulder and pressed him back down. "No..."

He sighed and turned his gaze to the ceiling.

"Hold still, please," Crusher murmured, still gripping his shoulder and now waving the tricorder slowly over his torso. He fought the urge to shrug off her hand and pushed back an image from a dream he'd had recently about her just prior to the away team mission. In the dream, she had also been touching him, but in a much more intimate way. Why the image would come up now unsettled him since he was trying to remain professional.

Beverly's expression continued to grow more concerned as she glanced at the tricorder readings. "I need to examine you in a more private setting Captain," Crusher concluded, standing up quickly.

"No!"

She jumped slightly and looked over at Riker as if to say, "can I have some help please?"

"Sir," ventured Riker. "This is important. With permission, I'd like to accompany you both, sir."

Picard looked somewhat confused but nodded. "Fine."

Picard sat down on the bed in one of the guest rooms and looked up at his CMO and first officer. "Was a clandestine meeting really necessary?"

"Sir," said Riker. "You were gone for over two hours. During that time, something serious could have happened to you. Now, you seem to think that you were gone a matter of minutes. I assure you that this is not the case. With all due respect, Captain I have to question why you took that lift down, without letting me know-"

"Mr. Riker," Picard nearly shouted. "I am unaccustomed to asking anyone for permission to go where I please."

"Captain...it's my job to ensure your safety. When you served as first officer, it may be that the captain took care of themselves-"

Picard stood up so quickly, that Riker thought he was going to hit him. "Do not presume to know my history, Riker. I never served as a first officer. And my captain, despite her brilliance, was killed in the line of duty. There was nothing I could do to stop it from happening."

Riker swallowed. He'd forgotten what he'd read about Picard's history. Picard had been the second officer on the Stargazer when his captain had died and the first officer had been severely injured. Picard had been promoted in battle and was later formally promoted to Captain by Starfleet Command. The sorrow on Picard's face was so raw, it seemed as though he had just gone through that harrowing experience. "I'm sorry, Captain. I didn't know that."

Picard sat back down and rubbed his hands on his knees. He looked embarrassed. "No matter," he mumbled. He glanced up at Crusher, who had been standing by holding her medkit. "Carry on, Doctor," he said in a more even voice.

She pulled up a chair in front of him and opened her tricorder. She held it up to show him. "Do you see these readings?"

"Hmm?"

"They don't mean anything to you, do they? But to me, they mean that someone has tampered with your biological make-up, Captain."

"Petral?" Riker questioned.

"Whoever did it used very sophisticated methods, which I can't simply fix. The functions of his adrenal cortex have been, for lack of a better word, altered."

"What?" Picard visibly tensed. "What does that mean?"

Beverly sat back and looked at him. "I know this sounds strange, but your adrenaline and testosterone levels have been increased to damaging levels. But this isn't just a drug reaction, your biology has been changed."

"Petral," Picard muttered.

"Yes. Petral is all about biological manipulation," said Beverly. "If he is responsible for producing a clone of Geordi that lived with us convincingly for a matter of days, then he could easily do something like this."

"But why?" Riker asked.

"No doubt to somehow fit into his sick game, and his disturbing fixation on humans," Picard said. He rubbed his chin. "You said you can't just fix it."

"No. But I can try and manage it with medication to lessen the symptoms."

"Which are?"

"At best, elevated heart rate, aggression, and increased sex drive."

Riker crossed his arms and tried to remain objective, unsure if having an increased sex drive should be considered a negative symptom.

Picard flashed to the dream he had had about Beverly again and crossed one leg over the other. He leaned forward suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Those were the best side effects. Dare I ask what the worst are?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Your cardiac implant could be compromised. And we don't have the resources to do heart surgery on an away team mission, Captain."

Riker looked down at his colleagues and mentally prepared for battle. "The risk is too great. The Captain should return to the ship."

"That is exactly what Petral wants," said Picard tightly.

"In all fairness, sir, we don't know what Petral wants," Riker shot back. "And I don't care. What we do know is that he means you harm."

"Petral means us all harm," said Picard, getting to his feet. He put some space between himself and his first officer. Beverly was correct about increased aggression. The feelings were certainly there. Every real or potential disagreement put him on edge. He stood up abruptly. "I have work to do."

Beverly sighed and grabbed her medkit. "I'll come and find you in a few minutes, once I've synthesized a medication to treat this."

It took her more than a few minutes, which was good because Picard was able to calm his mind. He knew he wouldn't have much time before yet another interruption, so he went back over some of the research he started prior to beaming down. As he skimmed the public information available for Admiral Forrester, he found some numerous pictures of Forrester with his wife, Clarissa "happily married for 35 years" according to Starfleet records. Picard had a hard time believing that anyone could be happily married to Forrester, but then, Picard had thankfully never been married. Another image of Beverly flashed through his mind; this time as she appeared on her wedding day. He didn't remember much about that day, because he had tried for so long not to remember it. He had been happy for Jack and Beverly, but had for the first time, wondered if he had made the correct choices in life. Until that day, he had never truly questioned the life he had chosen to pursue.

Shaking off these thoughts, he saw that there were a few holos of Forrester's children that he had uploaded unnecessarily. He moved to delete the file but instead looked closer at the photo. A chill went through him as though the temperature had just dropped in the room. Quickly typing instructions into his data pad, he sent the file to Data along with a priority message.

Suddenly feeling extremely tense, he hit his communicator. "Picard to Riker."

"Riker here, sir."

"I need to speak with Counselor Allen, right away."

Counselor Sarah Allen sat down across from the captain in what was now his makeshift ready room; one of many guest rooms that the away team otherwise did not have a need for.

"Nice office, Captain. Not really your style, though, is it? I mean, it's very informal..."

"I wouldn't know how to appropriately answer such a comment, so I won't," Picard said, hardly glancing up from his work.

Counselor Allen was amused by this statement but merely fixed him with a patient look. "How can I help you, Captain?"

"I have a question for you," he said, sitting up straighter to face her directly. "So you can help me by answering it honestly."

"You've just met me, Captain, so I will let that comment go. I am a very honest person. Please...go ahead with your question."

"Were you instructed by anyone at Starfleet to delay the transport of the Tranan people to Earth?"

She hesitated. "Is there a particular person you are talking about?"

"That wasn't my question, Counselor. Do I need to repeat it?"

"No. The best way I can answer that question, Captain is to tell you that I have been instructed not to discuss any specific orders with you."

Picard's mouth tightened into a dissatisfied line. "I see. Counselor, if you are trying to obstruct the Tranans from traveling to Earth, what you are doing is unethical-"

"Not if the Tranans don't want to go to Earth."

"I hope we agree that it should be their choice, not someone else's."

"Who are you referring to, Captain? I too appreciate honesty during discussions."

He felt his face grow hot. "Do you agree that the Tranans should be able to choose their own fate, or not?"

"I do agree, but you have to understand that they have almost no context of what Earth even is."

Picard was having difficulty remaining calm, which was beginning to worry him. He pushed his chair back from the small table. "Thank you for your time, Counselor, we can finish our discussion later."

She leaned in with concern. "Are you alright? Your face is flushed. I didn't mean to upset you, Captain. I just thought we were having a friendly discussion."

He closed his eyes briefly. "I am not...upset," he said through gritted teeth. "Let's discuss this later, shall we?"

She shook her head, visibly confused. "Fine. Let me know when you want to talk again." She stood up, just as Beverly entered the room, carrying a hypospray and several vials of purple liquid. "I hope you feel better soon, Captain," said Allen, before turning to leave.

"So," said Beverly, carefully placing the vials on the table, and sitting down in the empty chair across from Picard. "You're not feeling well?"

Jean-Luc rubbed the back of his neck, which felt hot. His muscles were tense. He thought back to his encounter with Petral and Reth in a dark basement, and he imagined that he had attacked them. But that wasn't what had happened at all. In fact, it seemed that whatever had happened was hidden from his memory due to Petral's tampering. The thought of being drugged and experimented on chilled him and his heart began to race again. "I'm fine," he said.

"Likely story." Beverly loaded up the hypo with one of the vials. She held it up for him to see. "This is a drug that I have synthesized and should help normalize your heart rate and keep you calm."

"So it will help with the...symptoms you mentioned before."

"What have you been experiencing so far? And I need more than an: 'I'm fine' this time, Captain."

"I feel...on edge and tense. My muscles are tight, and yet I feel less control over my emotions."

She smiled slightly. "Thank you for being honest with me." She leaned in and emptied the hypo contents into his neck. "This will last a few hours. I'm going to leave these other doses for you to use every two hours as you feel those symptoms coming on."

"Thank you, Doctor." He picked up a vial and studied it curiously. He was beginning to grow calmer by the moment.

"Have you given any thought to Riker's suggestion that you return to the ship?"

He looked at her. "No."

"And yet you think I should return to the Enterprise because Petral is fixated on me?"

"I never said that," he said with a frown.

"No, you didn't. You sent Riker to tell me-"

"I gave you a choice, Doctor. It is your choice whether you want to leave the away team or not."

"So you were concerned about my safety, but didn't think it was important enough to tell me yourself? Or you didn't have time, because you needed to take a walk?"

"That's not fair, Doctor."

"Why did you go down to that hospital, Jean-Luc?" Beverly's voice was trembling. "Tell me the truth...please."

He covered his face with his hands. "It was irrational. I was angry and I wanted to find Petral and confront him."

She grabbed his hand in hers. "And look at what happened. You could have been killed."

He tried to pull his hand away, but she wouldn't let go. "But I wasn't killed, Beverly. Please let go of my hand," he said quietly, averting his eyes.

She let go, exasperated. "Why do you think he is fixated on me? Did he tell you?"

He rubbed his hands on his knees. "I-I can't be certain."

"You're lying to me!" She got up from her seat angrily. "You want me to make a choice that involves my personal safety, but you don't want me to make an informed decision? This is not like you, Captain." She crossed her arms, but then laughed abruptly. "Actually, maybe it is like you. Do you know what this reminds me of?"

"What?" he mumbled, not sure he liked the direction of this conversation.

"When I first came on board the Enterprise and you invited me to transfer off of it within hours of seeing me."

"I was surprised that you had requested this posting. It was the wrong reaction, I now realize."

"Exactly! You assumed that I wouldn't want to serve with you, just like you are assuming now that I'm better off not knowing the truth. You are telling me to make a choice and at the same time telling me that you know what is best for me."

"No!" he shouted, surprising himself and Beverly. She took an uncertain step backward.

"No," he repeated, trying to quiet his mind. "Beverly...It's simply that I am worried. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Wow, it's been a year since I last posted in this story. What can I say? Shit happens! Hope you enjoy, I'll try and get back into it. -PP