The hardest part was over, but she knew from experience the next part could be equally so: waiting. Waiting to see if all of their efforts had been successful.

Waiting for him to wake up.

At least there was no time for a bedside vigil; there was more than enough going on outside the medbay to keep her busy, distracted, and sleepless besides. The discovery of the crashed Artifact on Ghulion IV's surface had opened up another significant avenue of engagement for the Starfleet crews, both diplomatic and medical. Beverly had visited the crash site with some of her crew and spent hours assisting Seven of Nine, the former Borg and Voyager crew member turned Fenris Ranger, whom she'd met before, with the ongoing triage of injured drone and scientist survivors. She and Geordi had been grieved to learn, though, that their good friend Hugh, the former Borg drone they had rescued and befriended so many years ago on the Enterprise-D, who had headed the "xB" rehabilitation project on the Artifact, was not among the survivors—he'd been killed by the Zhat Vash after having helped Jean-Luc and Soji escape from the cube.

With the nonstop activity, the awful news, the waiting, she was starting to hit her limits; but she took comfort in Geordi's presence, and gratefully accepted his suggestion to retreat back to Coppelius Station for drinks in the courtyard. For a few short minutes, at least, they were able to rest and reminisce, and it felt good to pay some small tribute to Hugh's memory.

"I only wish it hadn't ended this way," Beverly murmured again. "It's so terribly unfair. He dedicated his life to helping so many less fortunate."

"And he died helping, too, or else we might not be here right now," Geordi reminded her gently. "With the hope of starting over with the synths, and a better future for the surviving xBs in the Federation." He smiled regretfully and raised his glass. "To Hugh. May we all go out so selflessly."

"To Hugh," she agreed, finishing her wine.

A chirp sounded in the quiet. "Enterprise to La Forge."

Geordi sighed and tapped his communicator. "La Forge here. Go ahead, Captain."

"Commander, please join me and Doctor Soong at the main meeting room in the east wing of Building Two. Five minutes?"

"Yes, sir, I'll be right there." He closed the channel and raised an eyebrow at Beverly. "Is it just me, or were first contact missions not this exhausting when I was younger?"

She laughed. "I don't know, old man. How would you have known one way or the other, being stuck in the engine room all the time?"

"Well, someone should have warned me diplomacy would be such a chore before I switched to command track. Someone like, say, any captains I might know." He cuffed her lightly on the shoulder as they rose.

"Did I never warn you? How odd. I knew I'd forgotten something." She grinned and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for the drink, Geordi."

"Pretty sure you earned it, Doc. See you later." He cast a quick, meaningful glance back in the direction of the medbay in the building behind them. "But call if you need me before then."

"I will." Beverly waved goodbye, then sighed and sank back down in her seat, the momentary good humor fading as tiredness crept back in. Staring absently into her empty glass, it was a moment before she noticed two new figures, a woman and man, approaching out of the corner of her eye. Though it hadn't registered in the moment because she didn't know her, she did know of the woman—Raffaela Musiker, the brilliant analyst who'd served as Jean-Luc's first officer on the Verity during the years of the Romulan rescue armada. Conversely, she didn't know the taller Romulan by Musiker's side at all, though she did remember his name. "Commander," she said in greeting, inviting them with a gesture to join her. "Elnor." He nodded respectfully.

"Call me Raffi, Doctor," she replied, settling down casually across from her with a tumbler of amber liquid. "I haven't been Commander in a long time."

"Raffi." Beverly nodded, and massaged the back of her neck wearily. The uniform was wearing more than a little stiff after these long hours. "Then 'Beverly' is fine."

"May we ask how the admiral is doing?" Elnor asked, anxiously and without preamble. He had an unusual accent Beverly hadn't encountered among Romulans before, and he carried himself with the alertness and taut control of a warrior. She wondered idly how he had come to be a part of Jean-Luc's unlikely crew, and guessed it must somehow have related back to the rescue efforts, before the supernova. Before Mars.

But surely Elnor would have been only a child in those years, she thought, and she regarded him with new compassion. So many had lost so much…

"We don't know quite yet," she told him kindly. "But everything went very well and he's stable, so we should be able to know for certain very soon."

He nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. I'm very relieved you were here. I was afraid he would not survive."

She smiled. "I'll let you know as soon as he's awake. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."

Raffi took a sip of her drink, observing her shrewdly. "You know, I've always been curious to meet you, Beverly."

A beautifully-colored butterfly landed on the edge of the table, then flitted away. Bemused, Beverly pulled her gaze back to Raffi and raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"He used to talk about you a lot. Always 'Doctor Crusher' this and 'Doctor Crusher' that. Formal, you know, but in a very JL kind of way that meant he missed having you around."

Then he had a strange way of showing it. A muscle twitched in her cheek as she considered how to respond to this. "I didn't know that," she said at last.

"Because he dropped out of sight for ten years?"

Beverly eyed Raffi thoughtfully, wondering what the latter was aiming at. "Something like that."

The woman lifted her glass. Her long limbs were rail-thin, to a degree that, in Beverly's practiced estimation, wasn't quite healthy, and the lines on her face hinted at a life that had proved rather harder than it should have. But her brown eyes were perceptive—and, unexpectedly, sympathetic. "Well, you aren't the only one."

"I'm sorry," Beverly said, genuinely distressed as she understood, and she suddenly remembered Jean-Luc had said the same thing: Raffi, I'm sorry. What had happened after the Verity? "I didn't realize..."

Raffi waved it off. "Oh, I resented the hell out of him for years. But it's not his fault, really. I mean, my own choices are only on me. And it's not like I didn't know JL has...a difficult time showing how he cares. You know?"

No, that's not it, the doctor thought automatically. In public, certainly; formality and reserve had always been an integral part of his personality. But otherwise? Not at all. Or rather, she amended, not with her. Over countless shared meals and quiet times alone together, dancing at stuffy admirals' balls, attending concerts and lectures, even in their professional lives—affection had practically defined his interactions with her.

Right up until the day it all ended.

"So it's hard for him, too," Raffi was saying. "But he does care."

"But you were upset by his actions," Elnor observed frankly, glancing between the two older women. "As I was. Though I care for him greatly. Were you friends for very long?"

Beverly found herself tensing at the continued direction of the conversation, feeling a rising, instinctive need to somehow retreat. Her innate reluctance to discuss this with virtual strangers—no matter how genuine and friendly they were—vastly outweighed any natural interest she might have to delve deeper into their stories. Another time, maybe; she didn't intend to be rude. But not here; not right now. It was too much. "You know, it was a long time ago," she said finally, pushing up from the table with a polite smile. "I'm just glad he should be all right now. In fact, I should be getting back to check on his progress now."

Raffi tilted her head and studied her for a moment, and a look of unspoken understanding passed between them. "Right. It's good to finally meet you, Beverly."

"Likewise," she said sincerely. "I'm sorry to leave so quickly."

"Oh, don't mention it." She took hold of Elnor's arm in an almost maternal gesture, cueing him to stand with her. "We're heading back to our ship now. But you'll call when JL wakes up?"

"Of course." Beverly kept her smile until they'd passed out of sight, then slowed her steps as she approached the main building. She'd thought she could make it through a simple conversation just now, but it seemed that talking about Jean-Luc was like walking through a minefield she'd just discovered wasn't cleared. Why everything had to be so complicated where he was concerned… She closed her eyes, trying to screw up her courage and force down the emotions that her exhausted self was increasingly struggling to contain. Just a little longer, and you'll be fine, she told herself.

But she wasn't at all sure that she would. The waiting was hard. What came next...might be harder.