Chapter 3

El Auria

"Even when the majority of the people of El Auria began to see that they had been wrong, they still were made to suffer. Because the Other ruled as a cruel king over the people. He fed off of violence, and when the people gathered together to try and topple him, he even grew stronger. Civil war was widespread now that Orla was no longer there to watch over the people."

"But why did Orla desert us? By leaving the people to suffer she was also cruel," Guinan said with growing outrage.

"I never said Orla was perfect, and anyone who believes she was only capable of kindness does not tell the whole story," explained her grandmother gently.

"Then what made Orla return?"

"She saw many of our people trying to resist the Other, and helping to care for one another. She saw that the people and all of life on El Auria were doomed unless she intervened. And so she returned to confront him."

Enterprise

Picard stared into the mirror in his bedroom and had to admit Beverly had been right; he looked tired. He sighed. After a vacation and three weeks of sleeping deeply each night, it seemed quite odd. His head was pounding. Perhaps he should just give in and tell Beverly about his persistent headache. But something made him cautious. He adjusted his collar again, but just as he turned to leave his eye caught on a glossy black object lying on his dresser. The artifact. It had changed size and shape several times since he first found it half buried on Risa. This was strange, but for some reason did not alarm him.

He recalled that he had placed it in a small case in his desk, so it was strange that more often lately he found it in this spot on top of his dresser underneath the mirror. He reminded himself to have Data test the artifact in his lab. It was not like him to forget, but yet he had. A sudden irrational fear passed through him. What if the tests Data performed altered the artifact in some way—or even damaged it? The room seemed to close in around him, accompanied by a strong wave of nausea.

But then just as soon as it arrived, the feeling departed. Shrugging, he picked the artifact up, and suddenly felt it to be quite heavy in his hand. He gazed at it for a few moments and marveled at its perfection and beauty. Deciding against putting it away, he slipped it into his pocket instead, and now feeling wonderfully and yet inexplicably invigorated, left his quarters.

It was the Vidian festival for welcoming the spring season. He just should have known. Picard had allowed Commander Riker to make the arrangements, coordinating with the Vidian government. At least, he consoled himself; he would not have to participate in the ceremony, which turned out to be very creative. But this did not change the fact that everyone at the ceremony, except for the visiting Enterprise crew was naked. Ah, Riker. No doubt he found the situation highly amusing.

At dinner, he sat at a long banquet table, at which the council elders of the Vidian government also sat—nude of course. Riker and Troi sat on either side of him. Directly across from him were LaForge and Data, and to Data's left sat Beverly Crusher and Worf.

Picard gave Riker a sideways glance. "You knew about this?" he murmured uneasily, glancing over at the wrinkled body of the High Chancellor. The Vidians were humanoid, and frankly, he would have rather at this moment that the Vidians resembled something less familiar; perhaps a jellyfish, or some other beautiful creature.

The corners of Riker's eyes crinkled when he grinned, and yes, he was clearly amused. "Of course, sir. I had to really negotiate in order to convince the Vidians to agree to let us wear our uniforms."

Picard raised his wine glass and paused, offering Riker a faint smile. "Have I ever told you how much I value you as an officer?"

Riker laughed. "Many times sir…but always nice to hear again." He grinned again. "The Vidians believe that by bearing themselves, as they were when they were born, they represent the new life of spring—"

"Thank you, Number One, I understand the symbolism." Picard took a sip of the refreshing drink and his eyes shifted and rested on Beverly. She was laughing and gesturing at LaForge who had apparently said something funny, while Data sat between them with a bemused expression. He felt a pang of something powerful in his heart. He truly did love her, more than anything. Why was it so difficult for him to express such overwhelming feelings? As he placed his glass down on the table his eyes fixed again on Beverly, and finally she noticed his gaze and smiled radiantly at him.

Riker was talking again. "I couldn't talk them out of the Final Embrace, though sir."

Picard's head jerked around to glare at his First Officer. "Final Embrace? What's that?"

Riker cleared his throat, and tried to maintain a serious expression. "Exactly what it sounds like, sir."

Picard's eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Commander," he snapped.

Suddenly uncomfortable under the Captain's piercing gaze, Riker tapped the table top with his fingers. "Once the entire presentation is through the guest of honor—which is you, sir—shares a…rather lengthy embrace with the High Chancellor."

Picard's brow creased as he looked at the Chancellor again, then back at Riker. "So I have to hug him." He sighed and then shrugged. "I've gone through worse, surely," he said as though trying to convince himself.

"Yes, but the embrace is intended to last several minutes, sir."

"Several minutes?" Picard said looking at Riker as though he was crazy.

"Yes sir. Very important to maintain the embrace for as long as possible, until the ritual chimes sound, as a display of unity between our two societies, Captain."

Picard harrumphed and drank the rest of the contents of his glass. "I don't suppose I could use a stand-in," he muttered darkly. Perhaps Mr. Data….

They quieted and looked up, as the Chancellor was beginning to speak.

From across the table, Beverly watched Jean-Luc. How he was able to keep such a straight face while surrounded by so many unattractive naked bodies, she had no idea. She supposed that his self-control was one of the things that made him so successful in diplomatic situations, and certainly as captain of a star ship. But she wondered if these same qualities would prove to be a hindrance in their budding relationship. She put the negative thoughts out of her mind, because she knew he recognized his limitations—he had said as much. She knew he was trying. The more she looked at him, the more she wished they were somewhere alone, enjoying each other's company.

"And so," said the Chancellor, "please enjoy this presentation; our welcoming of the spring season and a new dawn for Vidian society."

The table quieted, and the ceiling of the room transformed into a night's sky. They craned their necks upward as three dimensional images of spirits flying through the sky whirled around them. It appeared to be a re-enactment of a love story between two beautiful beings. During the final negotiations, the Chancellor had mentioned several times to Picard the importance of the god and goddess who were believed to be the progenitors of the Vidian people. He assumed that the images above them were representations of the couple's epic journey, which had been filled with heartache and triumph alike. The story, although quite religious and melodramatic, was very touching—if you liked that sort of thing. At some point Picard began to feel dizzy, and he tore his eyes away from the spectacle, only to find that Beverly was staring at him from across the table in the darkness. He stared back at her, feeling the familiar connection growing, until the show apparently ended, and the lighting returned to normal.

Picard blinked and picked up his glass, getting to his feet. "A remarkable presentation," he said with a genial smile, projecting his voice through the room. He raised his glass. "On behalf of the Enterprise crew and Starfleet, I thank the Vidian people for welcoming us to your world, and allowing us to participate in your most treasured ceremonies…and as you stand on the cusp of a new and exciting era, know that we stand with you, welcoming you into the United Federation of Planets."

There was applause around the table, and Picard nodded and sat back down. The Chancellor began to speak again, about his gratitude, his excitement about the entry into the Federation, and then his speech took an oddly religious turn. "Surely the gods of yesteryear would recognize the blessings we have here today, and would recognize that it is fate that Starfleet sent us such wonderful ambassadors. Captain Picard is not unlike the sage philosopher Rento, who many cycles ago became the savior to our people when he taught us the true ways, that we follow today."

Picard shook his head slightly, and had to struggle to keep from objecting vocally. Then he heard a voice; a mere whisper really. He actually turned his head and looked around, but the people around the table were listening respectfully to the Chancellor's speech. No one was talking to him. He heard the whisper again, and realized he had no idea what the voice was saying. But it was there nonetheless. He shook his head again, feeling a pressure inside his skull. For some reason he reached beneath his dress uniform jacket and found the artifact. He gripped it, and then felt the pain ebbing slightly. But the whisper became louder. He dropped his head, and stared at the table cloth. Closing his eyes he saw an image of a battlefield with dead soldiers all around him. Was he there? And then the image faded, and he jerked his head back up.

Feeling a wave of nausea, and distantly recognizing that the Chancellor had stopped speaking, he got up from the table. The bright colors and lightheartedness of the room returned and he straightened his uniform. Turning stiffly, he scanned the room and found the doorway they had used to come in. His head pounded between his ears, and he just needed a few minutes alone. "Please excuse me," he said to no one in particular and moved to the exit.

He hadn't seen Beverly follow him, but she had, almost immediately. Out in the hallway, he stood with his head just touching the wall. He breathed slowly, but the pressure in his skull seemed to grow now in concert with the whispering voice. He couldn't even tell what it was telling him. Even more than the pain, this was unsettling, for he was not a man who heard voices.

"Jean-Luc?" Beverly stood nearby in the shadows. "What's wrong?" She walked toward him, not waiting for his answer. But he didn't answer, he just stood still. He was afraid that if he spoke the pain might increase, so he stayed quiet.

Beverly stepped closer and placed her hand on the back of his neck. "What's going on?" she said softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

He put his fist on the wall and pushed himself away from the wall to look at her. "It's my head," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "It's very painful," he said touching his temple gingerly.

She took a small instrument from a small med kit and put it to his temple. It made a faint whirring sound and glowed red. "Everything is reading normal, but this instrument is only for emergency purposes. We need to get you back up to the Enterprise as soon as possible. I'll run some more reliable tests."

He leaned back against the wall and sighed. "Alright. But I need to finish the ceremony first," he said.

She pulled out a hypo and injected it into his neck. "Just something for the pain. Now you can finish the ceremony. I doubt that you would listen to me if I told you not to." She smiled at him, but her eyes were full of worry.

He reached out and touched her arm and then took her hand. "Thank you…I am beginning to feel better." He squeezed her hand, and she tightened her fingers in his.

"Jean-Luc, how long has this been going on?"

He looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Beverly. I thought it would go away, but it seems to have…gotten worse."

"How long? This is your doctor talking now…."

He shrugged. "About two and a half weeks," he admitted, looking away.

She shook her head, flabbergasted. "What? Why? Why didn't you tell me?"

He looked at her. "I told you, I thought it would go away. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept it from you."

"No…no you shouldn't have," but her anger had already left her. She put her hand under his chin. She kissed him once, then again more passionately.

"Please don't hide from me," she said. "I love you."

El Auria

"Did Orla defeat the Other?" Guinan asked, stirring the soup in the pan. She poured some into a small bowl and then brought it to her grandmother.

"Yes," said the old woman taking the bowl from the little girl.

"How?"

Her grandmother broke into a big smile. "Why with love of course. She defeated him with love. It took almost everything in her being to do so."

With love? Guinan frowned, but said nothing.

"But something very strange happened when she defeated him," her grandmother continued. "His body shattered and broke into four pieces."

Guinan gasped. "Where did they go?"

For the first time, her grandmother seemed unsure. She hesitated. "One piece stayed here on El Auria. The other three pieces of his body spread out through the multi-dimensions. They still exist, as does the one remaining here on our planet."

Guinan's eyes widened. "The hill! It is on the hill…."

"Yes, Guinan. For now we are at peace, and we want nothing more than that. As long as we can remain such a people, the piece of the Other that lives on that hill cannot harm us."

Guinan tilted her head. "But then why are you so afraid, Momi?"

"Someday many years in the future, this world will see great trouble, great pain. And when it does, the Other will have his chance to return." She reached out and gripped Guinan's small face in her hand. "And when that happens—before that happens, you must stop him."