This is the chapter 6 I should have published to begin with. If you've already read it, this one has some missing scenes added. I realized (too late) that it wasn't flowing right so I added a few scenes to smoothe it out.

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The Child

CHAPTER 6

"So, I'm on a feeding schedule now?"

"Call it what you want. You need to keep your blood glucose at healthy levels to avoid more hypoglycemic episodes. They're dangerous." They sat in Crusher's office after the check-up to discuss the results. The doctor had handed Troi a data pad with a meal plan and the counselor was giving it a glance with a frown.

"I don't see why you're complaining, you can eat whatever you want. However, I've included a list of meal recommendations that will optimize your nutrition -and the baby's, of course," Crusher added. "Does he have a name yet?"

"No…I hadn't really thought about it yet. There's normally plenty of time to evaluate the options…"

"Normally." Crusher glanced up from her screen, "You okay?" the doctor had noticed early on that Troi was in low spirits.

"I don't want to leave the Enterprise, Beverly, and I have a feeling it's inevitable."

Crusher stopped typing and leaned forward on her desk, gazing at Troi in sympathy. "It isn't doing you any good to dwell on that, Deanna. I don't want you to leave either but, whatever happens, you'll be in good hands."

"That's not the part that worries me so much."

"What is?"

"What will they do with him? Will they take him away? For whatever reason, he chose me. I'm his mother, I'm his family, my home is his home. No matter how you sugarcoat it, a lab cannot be his home…and I couldn't leave him there. I couldn't live with myself if I did."

Crusher sighed deeply and reached across her desk leaving her hand palm-up. She didn't have any more words of reassurance, only trust in that her friend would be able to sense her honest sympathy and shared pain. Troi gave her a sad smile and accepted the offer, placing her hand in the one Crusher had extended for her. The doctor gave her hand a squeeze. They sat together in quiet companionship for a minute until the doctor broke the silence.

"I hope we can figure something out, Dee, I really do."

The counselor acknowledged with only a nod. After another short moment of thoughtful silence, Crusher snapped Troi out of her uncharacteristic self-pity.

Infusing some energy into her voice, the doctor said, "Deanna, go, get on with your day. Get your mind on something else. This is not good for you. You know that." She tightened her grasp on Troi's hand. "See your clients, the school activities…I recommend some light to moderate exercise, but you have to take it easy with your energy output. Go take a walk in the holodeck and take water and snacks with you. One day at a time."

The counselor nodded while Crusher spoke. She realized that she had been obsessively thinking negative thoughts since that morning after learning about the Watson. She was going down a dark path and that was not somewhere she wanted to be.

"You're right, Bev, I will. I can't stand this either. I feel like it's eating away at me, and I can't let it ruin my life. I need to get back on track." Troi spoke with renewed confidence.

"That's the attitude." Crusher squeezed the counselor's hand one last time and let go. "I'll see you here for your next check-up later today."

Troi nodded and graced the doctor with a genuine smile, "See you later, Bev. Thank you."

The halls were quiet, thank goodness, Troi thought as she walked back to her quarters. Two clients and the review of some department transfer requests, and she was ready for a nap. The walk from her office to her quarters seemed longer than usual. Troi felt more strain in her legs than the day before, and she was certain her belly had grown since she had settled into her office for an afternoon of work.

She had managed to stay behind the safety of her desk for her day's appointments, stealthily avoiding the suspicion of her clients. Luckily they had also not been the particularly observant kind, so she managed to sail through without raising suspicions.

As she reached the doors to her quarters, she sensed they were not empty. The doors sighed open, and she stepped inside, grinning.

There were boards and planks scattered on the floor of her quarters, and Riker sitting on the floor in the middle of the mess. "What's all this?" Troi asked, getting as close as possible to the mess. As she got closer, she realized what it was. "A crib?"

Riker looked up at her with a crooked smile. "I hope you like it. I had it replicated at the store. Although, I hadn't counted on it requiring assembly."

"Oh, Will, thank you!" Troi stepped over the boards and took Will's supportive hand. "I hope it isn't too complicated."

"Well, it's not a starship, but I may need a few minutes to figure out where everything goes."

"Can I help?" Troi sat cross-legged beside Riker and studied the diagrams with him for a minute.

"Okay, I think I know how this goes. Here," Riker handed Troi the data pad.

They worked in silence, occasionally asking each other for parts out of reach, or for the data pad to check the instructions. "Did you have a good day?" Troi asked.

"Just an average day, nothing outstanding."

"So, you're okay, then?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, this morning in sickbay..."

"Oh." Riker had been hoping that the incident that morning in sickbay would stay in sickbay.

"I didn't want to say anything, but I was disappointed that you didn't want to stay and see the baby. I wanted to know why." Troi asked in her warmest, most unthreatening tone.

"I thought I told you why," the commander said without taking his eyes off his work.

"You gave me excuses, Will, you didn't tell me why." Her soft demeanor was not having the effect on him she had expected.

"I had work piling up. You know I didn't lie to you, Deanna."

"I know, and I believe you, but it's not the reason. You didn't want to stay."

"I didn't want to stay because I had work piling up. I have a job to do on this ship. There's a tight schedule to keep, and you're not my only assignment." Riker instantly regretted the words that had come out of his mouth. He felt the rumblings of an argument about to erupt.

"Assignment?" Troi was taken aback. "I see." She paused. "So, last night you spent in my bed, you were just following orders? How about this morning, were there specific instructions about that too?"

The commander stopped what he was doing and shifted his attention to Troi. "I made you a promise. Doctor Crusher asking me to keep the night watch changes nothing."

"So, it's just the nights that you look forward to?"

"Deanna..." Riker's body language betrayed his frustration, and his emotions broadcast intense restraint.

"Well, you do make it sound that way." The turn of his attitude throughout the course of the day worried and confused the counselor. It also began to frighten her that her strongest pillar of support may be starting to crumble.

"Don't pretend you don't know my true intentions. Don't play dumb with me, it's a major turn-off."

"Oh, I'm sorry, the last thing I would want to be right now is a turn-off." Sarcasm seeped into her voice.

"Why are you being so confrontational?" It was getting harder to maintain his restraint.

"I recall you saying that you would be there for me; be my companion through all of this. But now you're avoiding and evading things that have to do with the baby."

"I'm putting this crib together, aren't I?" Riker let anger seep into his tone. He wasn't proud of it, but he found it difficult to contain his frustration anymore.

"Yes, well, you don't seem very enthusiastic about it."

Riker closed his eyes, took a deep breath which helped him regain some self-control. "Listen, I made you a promise, and I'm here for you. In fact, right now, I am literally here for you."

"You want to be here for me without being here for him."

"I am here for him. I will be. When he's out here with us, needing to be taken care of, I will be here for him. But in the meantime, it can't be all about the baby, Deanna, I'm sorry." Riker was done with this topic of conversation.

The only sounds that could he heard for the next painfully long minutes, were those of the crib coming together.

"Would it be the same if he were yours?" Troi asked flatly.

Riker stopped what he was doing and, head bent, he exhaled heavily. "Probably not," was his honest answer, and then he returned to his task.

The thump of an empty glass on the shiny surface snapped him out of his trance. A rich, amber liquid followed, flowing out of a green-tinted bottle and filling the bottom of the glass.

His gaze trailed upward and met with Guinan's as she screwed he lid back onto the bottle. Her enigmatic smile adding to the numinous aura about her.

"Dodged a bullet there, I hear." Her voice filled the space around them in the pre-lunchtime emptiness of Ten-Forward.

Riker huffed a little self-deprecating chuckle and just stared at the bourbon swaying inside the glass rolling between his fingers.

"I didn't think you felt that way about it either." Guinan slid a napkin over.

The commander shook his head, "I can't find words for it anymore. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say to her."

Guinan nodded in that particular way of hers. "Do you really need that many words to tell her how you feel?"

Riker grinned half-heartedly and took a sip. He immediately appreciated the heat gliding down his throat. "I feel like there's a wall forming between us and it's my fault. I don't…" He shook his head again and took another swig of the deliciously real bourbon. "I don't know how I feel about it anymore."

"How did you feel about it?" Guinan encouraged him to share.

The commander gazed into the swishing liquid while he spoke. "I thought -after the initial shock, I mean. After we had all the facts laid out- I thought that, even if it wasn't mine, it was still my role to stand by Deanna through it all."

"Has that changed?"

Riker frowned and sat up straighter. "No," he said with absolute certainty.

"So, what has?"

He opened his mouth to answer but instead the frown just got deeper. "I don't know." He kept shaking his head, thinking. "It's hard to see her…just…" Riker hovered his hand a few inches away from his middle and slowly moved it further away.

Guinan nodded in understanding. "It's hard for you to see her visibly pregnant so suddenly and becoming more so too quickly."

Riker raised his eyebrows and took another swig.

Guinan continued, "And this frightens you."

The El-Aurian's sage insight squeezed at Riker's heart. He stared at the remnant of the bourbon with too much intensity while he fought with all his might against the tears that were threatening with making an appearance.

"You know, it's perfectly normal for expectant fathers to feel fear during their partner's pregnancy. There's plenty of unknowns even in a typical pregnancy," Guinan reassured him.

"I'm not an expectant father," Riker retorted, downing the last of his bourbon.

"Aren't you?"

Riker set the empty glass down more forcefully than he had intended.

"What does Deanna need from you that you are willing to offer?" Guinan leaned her forearms on the bar's surface and waited for his answer.

"I don't want her to be alone."

"Companionship," Guinan echoed succinctly. "Anything else?"

"Help. Newborns are a lot of work. She's going to need support."

"Okay, anything else?"

Riker thought for a moment. "Companionship and support." He shrugged at a loss for more. "Is there anything else?"

"Has she asked you for anything, specifically?" Guinan continued to coax him on.

Immediately, Troi's voice resonated in his mind, 'You want to be here for me without being here for him.' Riker exhaled a deep sigh and smoothed down his beard. "She thinks I'm avoiding things that have to do with the baby," he confessed.

"Are you?" Guinan refilled his glass from a different bottle. "This is synthehol, by the way."

"I don't know…maybe. I'm…" Riker tried to articulate his state of mind, but it just wasn't happening. He wasn't good at that kind of thing anyway. "I don't know."

"Do you resent this child?"

He shot her a glare, brow furrowed, "No, of course not." But his tone didn't match his words. He couldn't help it.

Guinan studied him for a moment. "Things would be much different if the baby were yours, wouldn't they?"

Riker sipped the synthehol, missing the sting of the bourbon. "She asked me that too."

Guinan nodded. "This child appeared out of nowhere and chose Deanna to do it. Without asking her -or you, for that matter- it decided to settle-in between you and your imzadi." Riker gave her a wide-eyed stare at her use of the term. He wasn't sure how she knew about it. "Deanna is dealing with it in her own way," she continued unfazed, "You have to find your place and settle in. Ask yourself if this child is going to be a barrier to your relationship or if he's going to be an ally in moving your relationship forward." Guinan paused. "I think you were confident until your fear started making you doubt."

Riker raised his gaze from his glass to Guinan. "I am afraid," he confirmed. Guinan listened, silently encouraging him to speak further. "What if this kid is more than our instruments and computers are telling us? I mean, it took Deanna's DNA and just snapped itself into existence. If it can do that…we have no idea what else it's capable of. What if this turns out to be more than Doctor Crusher can handle and it starts causing trouble down the line? And the birth…something could go wrong and it's just a few days away…" He shook his head, exhausted just thinking about it.

"Does Deanna know you feel this way?"

Riker huffed and ran his fingers through his hair. "She can probably tell."

Guinan flattened her palms against the bar's surface. "She can probably tell?" She echoed his words with as much indignation as her permanently calm demeanor would allow. "And what makes you so sure she isn't afraid to rummage in there" She poked his forehead, "with all the mixed messages you're giving off?"

Riker frowned and folded his arms across his chest.

"I think you know what she needs. Not the least of which is honesty." Guinan reproved the commander. "Come back tomorrow if you want another glass of that bourbon."

She left the first officer sitting alone at the bar, staring at some far away spot deep within.

"I'll be in my ready room. You have the bridge Mr. Data."

"Yes, Sir." The android left his post and sat in the captain's chair, logging in.

As soon as the doors to his ready room slid shut Picard stretched, lifting his arms above his head and releasing the tension that had been building up all day.

The constant flow of information about the plasma plague had the whole fleet on edge. A resurgence of this ancient virus was spreading through the Rochellis system, and it was in the Federation's best interest to aid in halting it, but nobody wanted that kind of cargo in their hands. But that wasn't the only thing running circles in his mind lately. The situation with Troi had him increasingly concerned.

He ordered tea from the replicator. Chamomile this time. With the way he was feeling, he thought it was wise to skip the Earl Grey. Picard retrieved his cup and his data pad and sat down on his sofa, deciding to review his messages and documents within the comfortable silence of his ready room until lunchtime.

Troi walked down the ramp slower than usual, using the bulkhead for support. Her rapidly expanding center of gravity had her doubting her sense of balance, forcing her to be extra careful around stairs and ramps.

"Hello, Counselor."

"Hello, Data." Troi returned the android's greeting as she took her seat on the bridge.

"The captain is in his ready room," Data informed her.

"Thank you." Troi smiled at him and settled into her seat, logging in. A moment later she turned back towards Data and found him staring at her. "Is everything alright, Data?"

"Yes, Counselor. The ship and I are functioning within normal parameters," the android answered flatly. "However, the sudden and significant changes in your anatomy lead me to question your ability to adapt adequately. Are you successfully adapting to the changes, Counselor?"

Troi smiled, a little embarrassed but also amused at the android's innocent curiosity. "Thank you for your concern, Data. I am adapting adequately. Better than expected, actually."

"I am glad to hear that, Counselor."

Troi nodded and relaxed into her seat.

"Doctor Crusher warned us about possible episodes of hypoglycemia. Is that no longer an issue?"

Troi called upon her trained patience. Catering to Data's infinite curiosity was not a problem for her but considering their current audience and the topic of conversation, it was making her uncomfortable. "It's being managed so, no, it's not an issue any longer." She hoped that was the end of it.

"I have concluded that, under typical circumstances, the weight and girth you have gained-"

"Data," Troi interrupted, putting a halt to the android's rambling, "I would be glad to answer your questions in a more appropriate setting. How about we discuss this later over dessert?"

Data blinked. "That is an acceptable alternative. However, I do not need to eat, so dessert-"

Troi put a hand up. "I know, Data. The dessert would be for me. You know, to keep my blood sugar from dropping."

"Ah, yes, of course. I look forward to our meeting, Counselor." Data turned his attention back to the viewscreen and said no more.

Troi sighed with relief and let her head fall back against the backrest.

Picard exited his ready room and strode towards his seat at the center of the bridge but stopped before the unusual scene he encountered.

"Sir," Data acknowledged the captain's presence as he stood. He observed the captain observing the counselor. "Although I am aware that falling asleep on the bridge is not appropriate conduct, I took into consideration the minimal amount of activity in our current patrol and concluded that allowing Counselor Troi to rest is in her best interest."

"Thank you, Data, that was very thoughtful." Picard continued observing the scene with an amused grin. The android settled back into his post and the captain into his center seat. He glanced at the counselor to his left Hear head was tilted to the side and her breathing was steady. He noticed that her belly was larger than it had been the last tie he saw her. He considered the toll this pregnancy was having on her and was tempted to let her sleep, but he was almost certain that if he did, she would probably have a hard time getting over the embarrassment of napping on the bridge. Picard covered one of her hands with his and waited, counting on the contact being enough to wake her gently.

Troi's eyes blinked open. After a moment of disorientation, she straightened in her seat and focused on Picard. Her expression changed immediately. "Sir, I'm sorry."

"It's quite alright, Counselor, there's no reason to apologize."

"No, I shouldn't have let myself fall asleep. I don't know how-"

"Counselor, please, don't fret over it," Picard insisted, then had an idea. "In fact, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to discuss a few things with you, and considering the time, we can discuss them over lunch. Care to join me in my ready room?"

"Yes, of course, Sir." Troi was thankful for the offer to escape from the collectively curious gaze of the bridge crew.

Picard stood and Troi attempted to but couldn't make it out of her seat. The captain saw this and immediately feared it was another episode of low blood-sugar. He knelt beside her.

"Counselor, are you alright?" He asked with apprehension.

Troi looked at him with a sheepish grin. "I'm fine, Captain, I'm just having some difficulty getting out of my seat," she explained.

It took him a moment, but Picard understood her dilemma. "Oh," he chuckled and stood up holding out his hands. Troi accepted and let the captain pull her up.

"Thank you, Sir," she said, somewhat embarrassed.

"My pleasure." Picard gestured towards his ready room. "After you."

Ensign Ortega made her way across the tables in the almost empty, post-lunch Ten-Forward lounge until she reached the one she was aiming for.

"Counselor Troi?" she said.

The counselor looked up from her data pad and gave the ensign her signature welcoming smile.

"Ensign Ortega."

"Are you busy?" the ensign nervously. "Because, if you are, I can go," she fumbled.

"No, not at all. What can I do for you?" The counselor didn't need to be an empath to see that the ensign was uncomfortable.

"Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?" Ortega asked, trying to sound cooler and more assertive than she really felt.

Troi felt that she knew where this was headed. Was she comfortable talking at any length about this subject with a young member of the crew? Maybe letting the ensign ask her a question would help her decide.

"What would you like to know?" The counselor invited Ensign Ortega to ask.

"May I sit?"

"Of course."

The ensign sat, placed her data pad and stylus on the table and pulled the chair closer to the table. Troi noticed that the pad was the student model typically used for notetaking by the ensigns.

"Are you going to take notes?" The counselor added a little banter to lighten the mood.

"Yes."

"Oh, you are? And I thought I was being funny." Troi was curious now.

"Well, it's just that… I mean, we -we, as in the junior crew- we, um…noticed that…uh…well, we don't really understand how you… I mean…"

Troi raised her hand, hoping to relieve the young ensign of her misery. "Juni, ask me your question."

The ensign took a breath. "Are you…" she glanced at the counselors round belly with the question in her eyes.

"Am I…" The counselor coaxed her on.

Ortega started to form the word but couldn't seem to get it out. Troi sensed that the embarrassment at possibly getting it wrong was a bit stronger than her will to ask the question in such a straightforward manner.

"Pregnant?" Troi finished with a tilt of her head and slightly raised eyebrow.

A weight seemed to lift from the ensign. "Yes," she said with a sigh of relief.

"Yes, I am."

"You are? Wow, okay, um…" Ortega's flustered rambling continued, nonetheless. "I'm sorry, counselor, it's just that several of us noticed and some of us asked our seniors, but no one was telling us anything so, a lot of rumors started. So, the thing is, we really want to know because, all we have are these rumors, but no one wants to invade your privacy so…" The ensign ended abruptly with a huff, seeming to run out of steam.

"I see," Troi said, charmed by the ensign's honest confession, but also feeling ashamed. In the effort to preserve her privacy, she had inadvertently allowed this to become rumors. Yet, at the same time, she recognized that the opportunity to mend the situation had presented itself on a silver platter.

"Is it a real baby?" Ortega caught herself. "I'm sorry for the stupid question but, it's just-"

"It's okay, Juni, I understand. Everyone is confused by it, I know," Troi gently reassured her. "And, yes, it is real. It's very real." She confirmed with a hand on her protruding belly.

Ortega nodded, a slight furrow in her brow as she thought. "So…people that have seen you a few days ago said you looked…like…not pregnant, and now you're…" The ensign looked at Troi's round middle. "How far along are you?"

"About the equivalent of six months." The counselor had decided on a straightforward approach to the ensign's questions. Nothing better to quell rumors than the straight-up truth.

"The equivalent of six months?" Ortega echoed. Besides her genuine curiosity, Troi sensed from the ensign the anticipation of being at the brink of learning something strange and unexpected.

"Yes. You see, this baby is growing very quickly. Doctor Crusher expects he will be born in a few days," Troi explained in the usual soothing voice she used when sharing her insights with her clients.

Ortega's eyebrows shot up. "In a few days? But a few days ago, you weren't…" The ensign's cogs were whirling. "When did your pregnancy start?"

"A little over seventy-two hours ago," Troi answered plainly. Only the faint upward slant at the corner of her lips hinted of her amusement.

"So, your pregnancy, from start to finish, will only last a few days?" Ortega emitted a strange mix of disbelief and avid curiosity.

"M hmm," Troi confirmed, taking a sip from her glass. "I thought you were going to take notes."

The ensign sat up straighter and blinked a few times. She looked at her data pad and stylus on the table, then she chuckled. "I don't think I'll have a problem remembering every detail of this conversation," Ortega said with enough confidence. She glanced at the table for a moment, then smiled. "A boy, huh?"

Troi mirrored the smile. "Yes."

"So…" the analytical ensign's cogs started turning again. "Is he just a baby, or is there something else to him?"

Troi set her glass back down on the table slowly, giving herself time to consider the answer. "He's just a baby."

Ortega nodded.

"And something else."

The ensign's nodding paused, and her gaze returned to the counselor.

The conversation was going down a path Troi was not sure she wanted to take. She could either share the whole story or pull rank and end it there. It was her own very personal experience after all. Though, she also knew that being open and sincere with the younger crew would be encouraging for them, and it would also end the resurgence of any more rumors before they started to sprout again. So, Troi decided on a concise account of the facts.

"The night he was conceived, there was an unaccounted-for energy transference in the ship's outer hull. Shortly after the computer flagged the energy transference, I had an encounter with a conscious presence manifesting in a sphere of light which entered my body. There is a high probability that the two events are related." Troi entwined her fingers around her middle and gave Ortega a moment to digest the information.

The ensign nodded very slowly as she processed what the counselor had just shared. Her gaze returned to the counselor and a quirky smile formed on her lips. "Like a little star," she said wistfully. "A star baby."

Ortega's response caught Troi by surprise. It was charmingly ingenuous, and it touched a part of her heart. The counselor smiled warmly at the ensign and nodded. "A star baby," she echoed with more emotion than she had intended.

"Thank you, Counselor. Thank you for sharing this with me," Ortega said. Troi sensed her profound gratitude and satisfaction.

"You're welcome, Juni. And thank you for the opportunity to end those rumors for good," Troi said. "We don't want any more of those buzzing around."

"Definitely not," Ortega agreed. She gathered her things and turned to go. "Oh!" she exclaimed, turning back. "Is there going to be a baby shower?" the ensign asked with a dose of youthful enthusiasm.

Troi laughed at the unexpected question. "Ah, no, Juni, I don't think so."

"Aw…" Ortega reacted with disappointment, albeit very briefly. "Okay, then, but you can't stop the avalanche of gifts that are about to show up at your door," the ensign threatened with a cheeky grin.

Once again, the counselor chuckled. "Well, I will just have to be grateful for every single one."

Ortega nodded and walked away quite satisfied. Troi watched her with bright eyes and nervous anticipation. Very soon, her 'star baby' would be the talk of the town.

"Subspace communication from Starfleet Medical, Captain. Admiral Hudson." The young officer's voice entered Picard's ready room and interrupted the gentle dance between cello and piano of Schumann's Dichterliebe.

"Patch it through." The captain settled down at desk and set his teacup aside. He had a strong feeling this was going to be a conversation he did not want to have. He took a calming breath before opening the channel with the admiral. "Admiral Hudson." Picard accompanied his greeting with a polite smile.

"Captain," The admiral returned the greeting with a nod. "We have decided to admit Counselor Troi to the Watson. Given the rate of gestation, we cannot spare any more time. The Watson has already been given orders to rendezvous with the Enterprise. They will be contacting you with their ETA."

"Admiral, you are removing a senior officer from her post when her life and wellbeing are not in any danger. The life inside of her is not a threat. Is there anything we can do to convince you to reconsider?"

"Picard, Counselor Troi has presented us with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to witness, firsthand, the spontaneous gestation of a clone. Accelerated growth and chromosomal mutation…if we can gain enough knowledge about how this is possible…" Hudson clasped his hands on his desk and leaned closer to the screen, "Picard, every department in Starfleet is expecting this to be a game-changer. Your counselor, right now, is priceless."

"She is priceless. I do not approve of what you are doing to her." The increased volume of Picard's voice betrayed his frustration.

"Relax, Picard, it'll be velvet gloves with her. I'd be surprised if she wants to return to the Enterprise after this," Hudson replied with a chuckle.

Picard did not appreciate the humor. "This just sounds like data gathering. It can be done aboard the Enterprise. Why admit her to a medical vessel?"

"Starfleet geneticists are overzealous with their data. They want to centralize everything. The lab on the Watson is the best Starfleet has in the way of starship-based facilities."

"Admiral, I must ask you to reconsider. Can we not carry out this observation on the Enterprise? Counselor Troi is adamant about remaining here and, I must admit, so am I."

"I can sympathize with Counselor Troi. This ordeal must be difficult for her, to say the least. She's a young officer in an important position on the flagship and this is probably the last thing she expected to happen in the line of duty. But her first duty is to Starfleet. I don't need to explain that to you, Picard.

"I've reviewed Troi's service record. She's a serious officer, highly intelligent and with a bright future in the Fleet. Her particular pregnancy, given how it happened and that it happened in the line of duty, is within Starfleet jurisdiction.

"An unknown entity has infiltrated our humanoid genetic makeup. Knowing what and how is invaluable to the Federation. It is Troi's duty as a Starfleet officer to cooperate with the investigation into this being she is carrying." With a deep and gruff voice, Hudson continued before Picard had a chance to interject, "It's final, Captain. Counselor Troi will be transported to the Watson via shuttlecraft. The team doesn't want to dematerialize the fetus. They're a picky bunch," Hudson added with a chuckle.

Picard's dislike for the man increased by the second, aided by the lighthearted attitude he seemed to have towards their dilemma.

"Counselor Troi will be presented her orders shortly. I expect full cooperation. Hudson out."

Picard stared at the Starfleet emblem floating placidly in the middle of his screen. His stillness held within a deep disappointment. He told Troi that he would do whatever it took to keep Starfleet from taking her away from her home, but all it took was an order being given and his hands were tied. It was time to be Captain now. Emotional ties would have to be set aside if duty was to be fulfilled.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Troi crossed her arms and tilted her head "Are you not sure?" She wasn't going to allow him to reject her suggestion.

"No, I'm- I mean, yes, I'd like one, but Doctor Crusher told you not to exert yourself too-"

"Oh, please, Will, this does not come close to what I call exertion. Go, get out of that uniform. I'll wait." She shooed him to his bedroom.

In the time between her appointments, Troi had reflected on their intense conversation earlier in her quarters. She could have taken a resentful approach, but she knew better. She knew him better. Yes, he could be an asshole sometimes, and as infuriating as that could be, it wasn't a reflection of what he felt towards her. That behavior from him, when directed at her, was always accompanied by strong insecurity or fear or both. He had been radiating those emotions at critical levels during their argument. Through her interpretation, Troi concluded that Riker was still having a difficult time with the reality of the baby, and he was raising subconscious barriers against it.

Troi needed to get him to talk about it, but she wasn't his counselor, so a professional setting was out of the question. Next option was to get him to relax and let the barriers fall. Thankfully, she was trained in patience.

"So, she's going to have the baby in a few days."

Over a dozen junior officers gathered around Ortega in the mess hall. They were a mix of ensigns and young lieutenants eager to find out what was really going on with the counselor.

"So, it's not Commander Riker's?" The voice of a young man, Lieutenant Parker, rose from the small crowd.

Several pairs of eyes were immediately aimed at him. He looked around at them. "Oh, come on, it's obvious!"

"Juni just said that it was an entity made of light," another voice from the group reminded him. "Right?" Lieutenant Morris turned to Ortega for confirmation.

"Counselor Troi said it was 'a presence manifesting as a sphere of light.' Her exact words." Ortega was thankful for her excellent memory.

"Maybe she just wants everyone to think that, so we don't suspect it's Riker's." Parker insisted.

"How could it be Commander Riker's baby when it's developing so fast, it's going to be born in just a few days? You're not making any sense, Parker." Lieutenant Stromm rationalized with impatience.

"This is all too weird," another female voice chimed in. "If I were her I'd be scared of my mind." The normally quiet ensign from sciences pointed out the elephant in the room. Murmurs rose from the group as some of the crewmembers agreed.

"She didn't seem scared at all," Ortega said looking around. "I mean, she's an empath so I'm pretty sure she can tell if it's hostile or something."

"I don't know…it just gives me a weird feeling knowing this kid is going to be running around the ship soon. It kind of gives me the creeps. If I had kids, I don't think I'd want them hanging out with him." Stromm reflected out loud.

More hums of approval from several in the group.

"Come on, guys, if there was something wrong Counselor Troi would know. I don't think she'd be so cool about it if that were the case." Ortega felt the strong need to defend the counselor.

"Maybe the baby is tricking her into thinking that and then, when it's born, it's actually a freaky weird alien that we've never seen before." Parker turned it into a tasteless joke.

Some chuckles and murmurs followed. They broke off into smaller groups and dispersed around the mess hall for some recreational activities to end the day. The reactions amongst the group were not exactly what Ortega had expected. She wondered whether to be worried about the attitude that some of her crewmates had expressed toward Counselor Troi's baby. She hoped that would change once they saw that it was just a baby, like the counselor had reassured her. Juni hoped with all her heart that it was true.

"This is nice," the commander's groan was muffled by the pillow in which half of his face was buried.

"I know, and you deserve it. You've been too tense these last couple of days," Troi agreed while she kneaded between his shoulder blades.

Riker exhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, Deanna. I know it looks like I've been avoiding you, and I don't want you to think that I'm being distant…" It sounded like he wanted to say more.

Troi paused her kneading. "What's worrying you so much?" She asked gently, inviting him to share.

The commander shifted and Troi dismounted from his back, sitting on her heels beside him. He rested his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"There's a generalized tension in the fleet because of the plasma plague. Whichever ships get assigned to transport those samples are going to be responsible for a highly volatile cargo of a dangerous virus. The Enterprise is lower on the list because of the larger number of civilian population amongst the crew, but we're not exempt."

Troi nodded throughout his explanation. She could feel the soft vibration of worry this potential assignment was producing in the crew.

"The investigation into the energy transference is going nowhere. So far, we haven't found anything in your blood samples that have any correlation with it, but Starfleet insists we keep looking. It's taking up valuable time and attention that's needed in other areas of the ship. There's the whole deal with the Watson…" He ended with a deep sigh, then returned his gaze to Troi for the first time since he had laid down for the backrub. "And then there's you."

Troi gave him a warm, sympathetic smile and a tilt of her head, "I know you're worried about me, imzadi, but there's no need. I'm fine, the baby is fine. Beverly keeps saying that the pregnancy is progressing well."

"You're still having the hypoglycemia," Riker reminded her, justifying his concerns.

"Well, yes, but that's under control now. In fact, I've recovered my appetite and I haven't had an episode since this morning." Troi leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her imzadi's forehead. "Please don't worry about me, you don't need the added stress. Besides, the baby will be born soon, and I'll be back to normal."

"That's actually the thing that worries me the most." Riker confessed with some hesitation.

"What, that I'll be back to normal?" Troi teased. It triggered a burst of laughter from the commander. He reached out and brushed Troi's cheek with the backs of his fingers, then cupped her face. She leaned into his touch, never taking her eyes off his.

"I keep thinking," Riker began, the hesitancy in his voice betrayed the fear of revealing his apprehensions, "that something could go wrong during the birth. What if there's something truly different about this baby, and something happens while he's being born and you-" He shook his head. "I just have this nagging feeling about it that I can't shake." Riker exhaled heavily. The confession lifted a weight off him.

Troi had been sensing constant preoccupation from him for the past couple of days. A preoccupation specifically about her. She understood and accepted that. She was sensing that kind of concern from most of the crew, but it was the disquiet in her imzadi's heart that caused her the most concern. She placed a hand on his chest. "I'll be alright, imzadi, please don't worry."

Riker covered her hand with his. "Have you heard from the Watson?"

"Not since they confirmed the reception of my report."

"Hm" He returned to his thoughts. A moment later, his hand moved to Troi's round belly.

"I recommended they bring their people here to gather their data." Troi shrugged, "I don't think it will make a difference in their decisions, but…wishful thinking again, I suppose."

Riker was out of words. It felt like there was nothing that could reassure him, but he didn't want to press on with the subject. All he wanted now was to keep Deanna near, fooling himself into believing he could keep her safe just by holding her close. He caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "You're tired. Stay here tonight."

In response, Troi pulled back the covers and climbed in. Riker did the same they tucked their bodies together, finding solace in the comfort of their embrace.