Beverly bit her lip as she scanned the man lying on the biobed. Picard stood across from her, watching her every move.

"Doctor?"

"His species isn't on record, which isn't surprising considering he's five hundred years old. But as far as I can tell, he's healthy."

"Counselor Troi?"

Deanna Troi stepped up alongside Beverly and looked down at the man. His eyes were closed and he looked to be resting peacefully. His grey uniform was snug across his chest. A shimmering forcefield surrounded him.

"I can't sense much, Captain. He's been in a very deep sleep for a very long time. All I can sense is…peacefulness."

"Hmm." Picard clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at the man. "Can he be woken safely?"

Crusher nodded. "I've run every known test on him and he seems to be perfectly healthy. Why he was put into stasis, I can't tell. But he should be safe. There's nothing transmissible."

Picard nodded. "Lower the forcefield and wake him."

Beverly nodded at a nurse across the room, who tapped a few buttons on a panel. The shimmering field around the man disappeared. Beverly pressed a hypospray into his neck and it sighed as she injected him. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. He looked blearily around the room before his eyes fixed on Deanna.

"You're safe," she said gently, stepping toward him.

He blinked and then raised a hand to rub his eyes. Their brown color matched his hair that was cropped close to his head.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation starship Enterprise," Picard told him. The man's eyes flicked over to the Captain. "We picked up your shuttle as it was about to fall into a planet's atmosphere."

"How long?"

"You've only been on board a few hours," Beverly told him. She was scanning him again with her tricorder. "Don't worry, you're okay."

The alien stared up at Doctor Crusher. "The virus?"

"What virus?"

His eyes flickered to Deanna and back to the Doctor.

"He's terrified," Deanna said, turning to Picard. Concern was clear in her voice.

"I was infected," the man said. He slowly sat up, groaning as he did.

"I don't detect any sign of a virus in him," Beverly said. She placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "What were the symptoms?"

"It started with a headache," he said slowly. His eyes were wide as he looked from person to person. "Then the chills started. It ended…with death."

"Is he infected?" Picard demanded.

"I don't know anything about his physiology, but he doesn't have any of the symptoms that I would typically associate with a virus. No raised white blood cell count, and he does have white blood cells." She turned back to the man on the bed. "Were you infected?"

"We all were." He raised a hand to his head. "But the headache's gone." He looked at his hands. "And the redness is gone."

"Is it possible that he's been cured?" Picard asked.

Beverly frowned and studied the tricorder. "Our transporter biofilter would have screened out any viruses it detected. It's possible that it worked for his. And being in status would have helped, the virus should have been weakened by his time under."

"Please," the man said. "My planet, they're all infected. If you can cure them..."

Deanna looked at Picard, her eyes sad. Picard sighed.

"If you give us the coordinates, we can set a course. But you should know, you've been in status for almost five hundred of our years."

The man went pale, his ridges standing out in sharp contrast to his white skin. "Five hundred years?"

"I'm sorry," Deanna said. "I know this must be difficult for you. But, it may be possible that your people cured the virus on their own."

The man nodded. "Of course." He turned to Picard and Deanna could feel him pushing down his emotions far out of reach. "I thank you for finding me. I'm Commander Elam Reynar of the Arcadian Task Force."

"Welcome aboard, Commander. This is Doctor Beverly Crusher and Counselor Deanna Troi."

Reynar nodded at each in turn.

"I don't know the coordinates of my planet," he said slowly. "Or what coordinate system you're using."

"My people are working to find the flight path from your ship. Doctor," he continued, turning to Beverly, "do you need to run any further tests?"

"I'd like to check up on him periodically, but for right now, he's perfectly healthy."

"Good. Counselor Troi, Worf, would you escort Reynar to quarters?

"Of course, Captain. Commander?"

Reynar hopped of the bed and followed Deanna out the door, with Worf trailing behind. As they walked, Deanna tried to sort out the myriad emotions that she was sensing from the man.

"I know what you're doing."

"What's that?" she asked.

"You're reading me. You're telepathic, aren't you?"

"I am."

"We have people like you on Arcadia, people with psychic powers."

"I wouldn't call them psychic," Deanna said with a small smile. She could feel both confidence and despair radiating from the man beside her, so strong that it was nearly overwhelming. "I can read emotions, strong emotions."

"What are you reading from me?"

"You're confident," Deanna told him. "You're used to being in control of a situation. And you're scared."

"Very astute."

"It's my job." She came to a halt in front of a set of doors. "These are your quarters. I'll show you how the replicator works. Worf," she said, turning to the Lieutenant, "I think we'll be fine."

"I will station a guard at the door." He glanced at Reynar. "Standard procedure."

Deanna led the way into the set of rooms. They were small but comfortable, sporting a replicator, couch, table with chairs, and a separate area for a bed. Deanna quickly showed Reynar around all these, along with the bathroom.

"This is a replicator."

"What does it do?"

"It transforms energy into matter. It can create food. Are you hungry?"

"No." He paused. "I am thirsty."

"Computer, water, cold."

A glass of water materialized in the slot. Deanna picked it up and handed it to Reynar, who slowly accepted it. He took a sip and then gulped it down.

"Impressive. We don't have anything like this on Arcadia." His face tightened. "I mean, of course, that we didn't."

"I know this must all be very confusing," Deanna told him. "Did your species have warp travel? Had you met any other species before us?"

"Warp?"

"Faster than light."

He shook his head. "We had barely started exploring the other planets in our own system. But we knew there was someone out there, we had been visited by a species called the Kaldarians."

"The Federation," Deanna explained, "has a policy of non-interference. We don't contact any species that hasn't achieved faster than light transport."

"Then why did you pick me up?"

"We brought your shuttle aboard because it was going to be destroyed. Would you like to sit down?"

Deanna settled on the couch and Reynar perched on the edge of a chair. His muscles were clenched as if he was ready to leap out of his seat at any moment.

"Your life support in your pod was failing. If we didn't help, then you would have died."

"Then I owe you my thanks."

"Why were you in the pod?"

"When our doctors couldn't find a cure, they sent me up in hope that someone would find me. But I was already infected, everyone was, so they had to put me in stasis."

"That was very brave of you."

"Not as brave as the people who stayed."

Deanna nodded. "Once we find your planet, we'll set a course there. We'll find out what happened."

"I would like to know." He paused.

"What is it?"

He smiled wolfishly. "Can't you sense it?"

"I am only half Betazoid, a species that's telepathic. I'm also half human. So I can only sense emotions, not your thoughts."

"Ah." He didn't elaborate.

"You must have a lot of questions."

Reynar hesitated. Then he settled back a little further into the chair and spoke. "How did you cure me?"

"Our transporter can screen out harmful viruses and bacteria. A transporter works almost like a replicator, but it's used to transport someone from one place to another." She smiles. "I'm not an engineer, though, so I can't explain it better than that."

"And you can use this to cure anything?"

"Unfortunately, no. But it works sometimes."

"You're lucky. The virus was wiping out thousands on my planet. I would…I didn't want your ship to be infected."

"We took precautions. But I'm happy that you're safe."

Reynar's face went blank. "My ship?"

"I know it powered down when we brought it aboard. They may be working on it."

"I'd like to see it, when you have time."

"I'll talk to the Captain about it," Deanna told him. "In the meantime, I would get some rest."

"I've been resting for five hundred years, Counselor."

Deanna allowed herself a small smile. "Well, I'll let you get settled in. We'll keep you updated when we find your planet."

"Thank you, Counselor."

"My name's Deanna."

Reynar nodded.

The security guard was outside the quarters when Deanna left. She tried to sort through her own feelings as she reflected on Reynar's. He was pushing down all his painful emotions, including the fear and grief. He had obviously had training in controlling himself, probably military since he had said he was a Commander in some task force. He was more controll than almost anyone she had met, except perhaps for Captain Picard. But he was also tightly wound, and she wasn't sure what would happen when he was forced to confront those feelings.

She made her way to the bridge, where she found Riker talking to Picard. Riker was lounging back in his chair, one foot perched on the opposite knee. Picard was sitting straight-shouldered, as usual. Deanna took her seat to Picard's left. Both men turned to her.

"What did you learn?"

"He's scared. And hurt. I think the reality of his situation is starting to dawn on him. Even if his civilization survived, everyone he knows is dead."

"So he's telling the truth?" Riker asked.

"Oh, yes. He was put into stasis so that someone could find him and hopefully cure him. They knew there were other species out there but hadn't developed warp power in order to reach them. But I don't think he thought it would take this long."

"Did he mention the shielding?"

"Shielding?"

"His ship was protected by a remodulating beam," Picard explained. "We had trouble locking on."

"I didn't ask. I told him we would tell him when we found his home planet."

"Very good, Counselor. Date and Mister LaForge are working on tracing the shuttlecraft's course."

"Do you think it's a good idea?" Riker asked. "If they're pre-warp, maybe it would be best to…"

"We have to take him home," Deanna cut in.

Riker raised an eyebrow but it was Picard who spoke. "We will. If Arcadia has already been contacted by another species, then we cannot do much more harm. And it is possible that they've developed faster than light travel in the last half a century."

"If they survived."

"Yes, Number One. If they survived."

"Another thing, Captain. He asked if he could see his ship."

Picard nodded. "Once Geordi and Data are done with it, I'll have it arranged. I'll be in my Ready Room."

As he disappeared through the doorway, Riker turned to Deanna.

"He's affected you."

"He's in pain," Deanna said, her voice stiff. "I'm concerned that the stress may be too much for him."

"We'll find out what happened to his planet," Riker said.

"Of course." She sighed. "I'm sorry, Will. I think I'm tired. Just…the amount of pain that I sensed from him, once he found out what had happened, was overwhelming."

"Maybe you should rest."

"Maybe you're right. I'll be in my office." She stood and left the bridge, leaving Riker sitting alone.