Chapter 38


The Aldrin

One of the security officers escorting Bok nodded for Wesley to get out of the way. "Kid, we have orders to bring this prisoner to meet with Captain Riker. I'm afraid your conversation will have to wait."

Wesley gave the two men his most annoyingly sullen teenage face. "Look guys, I just want to ask him one question. Can't you just leave us alone for one minute?" He rolled his eyes in Bok's direction. "He's in restraints…not exactly dangerous. Plus, look at him, he's puny."

The other security officer shook his head no. "Sorry kid, I don't know who you think you are, but the Captain trumps you. You want to talk to this Ferengi; you'll have to wait your turn."

Wesley laughed. "Riker? Yeah right, the guy is a hack!"

The two officers looked at each other in confusion, and then turned back to Wesley. "Better watch your mouth, kid...what do you think the Captain would say if he heard you talking like that?"

"Like I care! What are you two idiots going to do-snitch on me?" Wesley moved his wrist and felt the hypo drop into the palm of his right hand. It was now or never. He grabbed Bok's arm and yanked the Ferengi toward him. Both officers descended on him.

"Hey! Listen you little sh—"

As soon as the lead officer reached out to grab Wesley's collar, he brought the hypo to the man's neck quickly. The guard immediately dropped to the deck unconscious.

"Hey!" When the second guard bent down to help his unconscious friend, Wesley emptied the rest of the hypo into his neck. As the guard slumped to the deck, Wesley turned to Bok, who was watching him with great interest.

Bok wrung his hands with mischievous delight. "How creative...and daring! To look at you, youngster, I never would have thought you had the nools for this kind of work."

"Me neither," Wesley replied honestly. The fact was he'd expected Riker to say no to him. But he still had to try. Riker was the one who had taught him to always have a back-up plan. And so he'd planned for this. But still, as Wes stared down at the two unconscious men, regret began to creep into his heart. He shook it off. The only thing that mattered was finding Mayer and stopping him. Bok knew where and when to find Mayer, and so Bok had to go with him.

Gaining his resolve back quickly he stepped closer to Bok and grabbed the Ferengi by the arm. He spoke into his wrist communicator. "Transport code Crusher two, initiate." He and Bok were immediately transported away and into a small cargo bay. Bok was eyeing him even as they re-materialized.


"What exactly is your proposition, boy?" Bok yanked his arm away from Wesley. "I demand to hear your terms before you surprise me with another transport."

Wesley glanced around the cargo bay. Based on the shift report he'd known staff had been moved to more crucial areas of the ship. At the same time, the very valuable piece he was looking for was in here somewhere, inside one of a hundred or so nondescript grey hexagonal containers.

He switched on his tricorder and began to scan the room for an electromagnetic wave.

"I demand to know your plan, young human! Speak! Riker, as stupid as he is has already realized I have escaped, and he is sending guards here to kill me as we stand here!"

Wesley frowned down at the instrument in his hand. "He's not going to kill you, that's not his style...wait…here it is," he suddenly exclaimed with delight.

"Here is what?" demanded Bok.

Still staring at the tricorder he followed its insistent beeping which grew more rapid as he approached his target. "Damn," he murmured stopping short. He turned to regard Bok and sighed in frustration. "There's a force field. Of course, they're not going to leave this thing completely unguarded."

Bok grinned. "The Pedestal is inside there…how clever. And your intent is what, Human? To return to the past and stop the madman Mayer from giving my past self the Singularity Net technology?" He began to giggle. "Child you know nothing, if you think you will trick Mayer. He is a genius who has no soul. He carries only rage and evil inside of him."

Wesley clenched his jaw angrily. "Like the way you were when you used the Net against Captain Picard? I can't think of anything more evil than what you did. Look at the destruction you've caused, Bok."

Bok slowly shook his head, making his lobes wiggle. "You are very mistaken. Yes, I was bent on revenge, and yes, I enjoyed every minute of what I did to Picard, that self-righteous son of a slime devil. He killed my offspring, after all!" He clutched his hands together again. "But now I have changed my ways, young hew-mon. In fact, I want to help…put things right," he insisted. "I did not intend for the Malkatans to advance upon our galaxy in the way they did. The Malkatans are as much a threat to the Ferengi as they are to the Federation. Do you think I want to lose all of my property to these…these barbarians?"

Wesley's eyes narrowed. "That was what I was hoping you'd say. Because you know where and when we can find Mayer, don't you? So all we have to do is use the Pedestal to take us there…stop Mayer and then travel back here. You can get us back here can't you?"

Bok blinked quickly trying to affect an innocent expression. "Of course I can…but I must know, young one; what is in it for Bok?"

"What's in it for you? Are you kidding me, Bok? You just admitted that you let the Malkatans overrun the galaxy, and that your people could be destroyed. Don't you want to be the hero? I thought you wanted to make things right!"

"I do," said Bok. "But…I need assurances that I will not go to prison if I risk my life to help you, boy."

"I'll use my influence to make sure you're not prosecuted," Wesley suddenly blurted out. "I promise." He knew he sounded desperate, that he'd given Bok too much, but he needed Bok's cooperation.

Bok's face changed slightly, and Wesley knew he'd made a mistake. He couldn't give Bok the upper hand. But he was desperate, seventeen years old, and trying to outwit a master negotiator. "You have influence?" Bok asked doubtfully. "Over who?"

"Captain—Captain Picard," Wes stuttered, now on completely shaky ground. "If I ask him to, he'll give you some kind of amnesty—I know he will."

"Picard is a dead man...in any timeline," Bok scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. "He can no more give me amnesty than he can save each of his own pathetic lives."

Wesley balled up his fist and felt a sudden rage overtake him. He wanted more than anything to punch Bok right in his sensitive ear, but he remembered his goal. "A promise is a promise," Wesley said. "I'll do my best to make sure you're protected. Just help me, Bok. Or you're back in detention here on this ship."

Bok made a face, and then pointed at the container Wesley stood next to. "How are you going to destroy the force field?" he questioned. Wesley smiled internally, hoping that meant Bok had made his decision.

Wes shrugged. "I don't have to destroy it," he said. "Not if I can deactivate it." he turned away slightly and started typing some code into the tricorder. In less than a minute he had the correct frequency and the field was lowered. He quickly dropped the container's sides and the Pedestal of Time was exposed. It glowed hazily in the bright lighting of the cargo bay.

"I will get you where you want to go, young human," said Bok. "I will bring you to Mayer. But I cannot guarantee that you will make it back alive."


First the bright lights…then the faded beeping and muffled voices becoming clearer. Now the cold sharp dryness inside her nose, and a halting breath in. She could feel nothing below her chest. "My baby," she whispered.

"She's awake," she heard Deanna cry out. "She's awake, hurry!"

"Troi," Beverly whispered hoarsely. She felt the nurse at her side, checking her vitals. "Where is my baby? I can't feel anything."

Troi was holding her hand. "The baby is alright, Beverly. But she's in recovery right now. They need to monitor her for a bit longer."

Beverly felt herself smile. "She…she's a girl," she mumbled groggily.

"Yes," said Deanna with an exuberant laugh. "She's a girl. And she's very beautiful. And I can already tell she is going to be a handful, because she didn't want to leave you. She has quite a set of lungs."

"Hmm," Beverly shut her eyes. "Going to have a great voice, just like her father."

Deanna blinked back tears and smiled. "Yes, I think you're right about that."

Beverly turned her head to look at Troi. "Jean-Luc …he and Worf were going to take the Enterprise and meet us out here. Where is he, Deanna?"

"Beverly, I'm sure he—"

"Troi, this is no time to make me feel better," interrupted Beverly. She paused as the nurse emptied a hypo of painkillers into her neck. Her brain was so fuzzy she couldn't focus on her words. "I need to know the-the truth."

"Alright," Deanna allowed slowly. "He's not here, Beverly. He's still on Earth. But the good news is, we're headed to Earth to see him now."

Beverly smiled dreamily. "So we've won…the Malkatans are finished then."

"Soon," said Troi, afraid that her friend might be able to detect the doubt creeping back into her tone. The truth was the Malkatans were far from finished. It was the Federation, by all accounts, which was struggling for its very survival. But as much as her friend needed the truth, Deanna needed to keep Beverly calm and safe. And updates about the war would not help her in that task.

"I need to see Wesley, then," Beverly said, shutting her eyes. "Can you tell him to come visit me?"

"Of course." Deanna smiled slightly and then hit her communicator. "Troi to Riker."

"Riker here—what is it, Troi, we've got a crisis up here."

Deanna froze at his words, and hesitated before she asked, "Can you tell Wesley to come to see Beverly in the hospital?"

Riker paused. "Are you alone?" Deanna shut her eyes slowly. Of course I'm not alone, Will, I'm in the hospital with Beverly.

Beverly's eyes snapped open. She tried to sit up. "What is going on? Where is my son?"

"Beverly, calm down—"

"I won't calm down, Deanna. Where is Wesley?" A nurse was at her side, administering another drug. She pushed at the nurse in frustration. "No! I've got to see my son…."

"Doctor Crusher," the nurse warned sternly. "If you don't sit still we will have to put you under sedation. Now you know the recovery protocols better than anyone, and—"

"Damn the protocols. Will, where is my son?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, Beverly, but he's disappeared," said Riker. "And I think he's taken Bok into the past to stop Mayer from altering time."


Earth—Present Day Altered Timeline

"We have beamed up the last group of survivors from this region, Captain. The other starships report in that they are at full capacity for occupants now sir...as are we," Worf said, leaning on the tactical station. From orbit, the viewscreen showed the surface of the Earth, and that they had just passed over Southeast Asia. Worf tried not to think about his family, in particular his son. Due to the emergent situation, the transports had been quick and unceremonious, with little or no communication between the Enterprise and the survivors on the surface prior to each beam out. They had beamed up survivors from Russia, but he hadn't inquired about how many survivors had been rescued. He tried to focus on his post instead of useless guessing.

"Mary to Worf,"

"Go ahead," said Worf. He gritted his teeth. Captain Picard had given the elder human a communicator. As a result, the old woman had been calling him every five minutes giving him updates on the survivors and "security" risks such as replicator malfunctions, and arguments among the all-volunteer "crew".

"There are some people down here asking for you, Mr. Worf."

"Mary...I am presently engaged in my duties and we are about to enter battle in a matter of minutes. Would you please handle the problem yourself-"

"No, you misunderstood me, Worf! It's your parents and son! They're here on board and they're going to be fine."

Worf froze. Alexander...alive? He raised his eyes and the Captain had turned from the helm and was regarding him seriously.

Worf straightened. "Sir...I cannot leave my post."

"Yes you can, and that's an order, Mr. Worf. Be back at your station in ten minutes," said Picard. He hesitated before turning back around. "You may never see them again, so don't waste any more time. Go," he urged Worf quietly. Inside his own mind a voice echoed the same words; except now he was thinking about Beverly again.