A/N: Sorry I've been so quiet lately...I've been recovering from a concussion when I took a knee to the head during training. Been having a little trouble with my speech, remembering words and which order to put them in, so I haven't been able to work on much. I'm doing better today, managed to get this finished. And hopefully I can get back on my normal track and pump out the rest of these chapters for you! :-) Thanks so much for the reviews on that last chapter! Always makes my day to hear feedback, and especially to hear that people are enjoying the adventure. It cheered me up, especially since I have to take some time off training (jiu-jitsu is my other obsession, and it's TORTURE not to go!).

"How much farther, do you suppose?" Troi asked, trying not to sound as out of breath as she was.

Elion paused beside the red trunk of a tree and squinted through the rain. Dark clouds swept over the top of the ridge, making it appear even taller, even more menacing, than he remembered. "We're almost there," he promised. "In fact, we-" As he turned to face the counselor, the words died on his tongue. The rash had spread at an alarming rate. Tendrils of black now crossed her chest and reached for her throat. Rain slicked the hair to her scalp and ran down her face in little streams. Her lips had lost that alluring color and smile he had known her to wear. "...should take a break. Just a small one," he finished, veiling his concern with a wink.

"No." His suggestion only seemed to upset her. "If we're close, then-"

"Just a couple of minutes, that's all I need." He started to swing his pack to the ground, but she grabbed hold of his arm.

"You don't have to spare my feelings, you know."

Gently moving her hand aside, Elion set the bag at his feet. "What do you mean?"

"You don't need to rest. And neither do I."

"Lady Deanna…" He sighed. For someone of such a gentle nature, her determination was unexpectedly fierce. Admirable. And at the moment, frustrating. "Look, I've seen blackweed cases before. The fever has already set in, hasn't it?"

She looked away bitterly.

"You're going to get worse. But you'll get worse faster if you don't listen to me."

Troi's eyes drifted towards the looming shadow of the ridge. Her stomach churned at the thought of her family held prisoner up there. They couldn't afford for her to get worse. The fever had set in; she could feel it coursing through her blood and ravaging her strength.

Then she felt something else, reaching through the storm like an outstretched hand. Carmen was searching for her, in need of the comfort only a mother's presence could give. The situation had no doubt revived ghosts of her past. Troi tucked her own worries out of sight and sent the young woman silent, soothing thoughts. There was no need for her or Riker to know about the blackweed just yet. They had enough to contend with at the moment.

"Did Lorana make these?"

Elion's question broke through the counselor's thoughts. He lifted a sandwich from the bag he had been carrying.

"Hmm? Oh, yes," Troi replied. She settled down beside him where a tree branch offered sparse shelter from the rain. He passed her the sandwich and then pulled out another one for himself.

"So these people...the ones who took your family..." he said, mulling over his first bite. "What can you tell me about them?"

Troi stared at her sandwich, hoping it would inspire an appetite. Or at least an answer. Elion and Jora had been thrust into the midst of things, blurring the lines so carefully drawn by the Prime Directive. But with her strength fading, Troi knew that eventually, Elion might be their only hope. She would have to trust him if she wanted to get her family back, just as he would have to trust her. And that would require a little bit of honesty.

"They are a very proud race. A militant race," she began, choosing her words carefully. "They see themselves as superior to most other beings, and so they prefer to conquer rather than explore."

"Is that what you do? Explore?" Elion asked.

"Yes." Troi set the sandwich on her lap. Her stomach wouldn't have it, anyway. "We seek out new life, but not to conquer it. Not to destroy it."

"Then why?"

"Progress," she replied. As she looked over at the agent, a tired grin pulled at her lips. "And a well-developed sense of curiosity, I suppose."

Elion returned the grin. "Life and curiosity tend to go hand in hand, don't they?" He sighed wistfully, turning his gaze to the sky above. "I can only imagine the wonders you've seen. I'm envious-it must be beautiful out there."

"Most of it is beautiful," she said, following his gaze. "But we've made our fair share of enemies along the way."

Grunting, Elion's eyes fell to the ridge. "Like these ones."

Troi's brows knit together at the reminder. "Yes, like these-"

A horrendous scream pierced the jungle air. Elion snapped to attention. Troi's blood turned to ice as a vicious snarling sound followed the scream. Whatever it was, it was close by.

As Elion leapt to his feet and tugged on her arm, Troi felt a tug on her mind as well. Carmen. Some of the counselor's alarm must have reached her. She banished it quick as she could, forcing her mind into action instead of fear.

"Here," she urged, shoving her weapon into the agent's hand. "If something happens, I...I may not be able to act. Not quickly enough, at least."

"What is this?" Elion looked down at the strange device. It conformed easily to his hand, but he could see no bullets, no discernible trigger. Just several buttons and an absurdly small screen.

"It's called a phaser," she explained. "Fire it by pressing here. It's set to stun."

"Stun?"

The screaming stopped. An ominous silence followed, broken only by a roll of thunder. Elion tugged on the counselor's arm again. "We need to move, find somewhere safer."

Wiping the rain from her eyes, Troi nodded in agreement. She let him help her to her feet and then followed him over the mud, pushing past sodden leaves and sullen flowers, every step as labored as her breath. The fever began to fog her senses. Several rashes cracked open along her skin and little trickles of blood ran to the ground with the rain. Out of nowhere, a blinding pain struck her empathic senses. She stumbled, falling onto her knees.

"Deanna!" Elion scooped her up, foregoing gentleness in the haste of the moment. "Come on, we can't stop yet! Is it your fever?"

"No, it's...it's her," she gasped.

"Who?"

"Carmen." Troi sank to the ground, slipping slowly from his grasp.

Elion glanced about, straining to listen through the incessant rainfall. He adjusted his grip on the phaser. "That was your daughter we just heard?"

"No. I think that was one of the guards they sent after us."

"Then what were you saying about Carmen?"

Troi squeezed her eyes shut. Her mouth wrenched in pain, her daughter's pain, as it cascaded through their connection. "He's hurting her. Punishing her for something. They must have tried to escape..."

Elion crouched to her level, keeping one eye on the shadowy jungle behind her. "How do you know this?"

She grimaced. "I inherited certain...abilities...from my mother," she admitted. "Just as Carmen inherited them from me."

"Do you mean...mind reading?" Elion asked, somewhat nervously. He felt naked all of a sudden, despite being fully clothed.

"No. We can read emotions, not minds. But we-" She flinched with the thunderous echo of another blow. Carmen would not be able to take much more. She was burrowing into that space between their Betazoid minds, desperate to escape the pain of her physical body. It was torturous for Troi, to be able to hear her but not help her, to be able to reach her but not shelter her. Concentrating, she gathered up every remnant of strength she had left and sent it to her daughter. Hang on to me, love. Just hang on...

Then she collapsed, her skirt furling out beneath her like the petals of a crumpled flower. Elion's eyes flew wide. "Deanna!" He shook her shoulder, trying to rouse her. "Deanna, say something!"

The leaves at her feet rustled violently. Elion's heart leapt into his throat. He lifted the phaser, but a moment too late. A creature bounded out of the bushes, over Troi's body, and collided with his chest before he could remember how to fire.