Disclaimer: Paramount Studios and the estate of Gene Roddenberry own copyright of all things Star Trek. The original plot is my own as are any characters created specifically for this story.
'Julian!' He swung around. The call had come from the other side of the expansive bar which dominated Ten-Forward. Will Riker was beckoning to him. Picking up his glass he slid off his seat and made his way over to the empty seat next to that occupied by the not inconsiderable figure of the Enterprise' first officer. He sat down, raising his glass in silent toast to Riker. 'What are you drinking?' Riker inquired solicitously. Bashir indicated his glass and Riker beckoned to a nearby waiter indicating a refill of both their glasses. He glanced at the junior officer gauging his mood. Now seemed as good a time as any.
'So Julian, quiet day?' Bashir leant his arm on the bar and stared deep into his glass, remembering the fury of the scramble to arms - as it were - when battle was joined. He sighed and replied softly, 'Don't I wish!' His face brightened, 'Mind you there were high spots. I was working with a wonderful person..' Riker glanced sideways at him, realising that he had it very bad. Wondering if Beverly knew how bad. He dragged his mind back to the reason he had asked Bashir to join him. 'Was that all, the company I mean?' The loaded question, yet Bashir seemed totally oblivious to any special meaning. He considered, then grinned; 'Well no. There was one other thing. Beverly got a bit cross with me actually. Apparently my bedside manner needs a bit of work!' He laughed, joined by Riker who inquired, 'Why?' Bashir shrugged, 'Oh nothing really, just that I need to practice a little more restraint in giving good news.'
Riker's interest was piqued; 'Oh yes? What was that?' He reached for his glass awaiting Bashir's reply. 'Oh er, yeah that's right. We have a prospective mother-to-be on board. Perhaps you know her, an ensign, Tess something, Allenby I think.' He recoiled from the tremendous snort from his side as a shower of synthahol splattered his face. Instinctively he wiped his cheek clean with his hand. Then, confused he turned and began banging the choking Commander on the back. Riker coughed repeatedly, snorting, wiping at the tears welling up in his eyes. His throat sore he sipped gently at the remnants of his drink, most of which now decorated the back of the bar, Julian's uniform, other customers, assorted waiters. Riker regained his composure slowly. Then as sense returned he became dimly aware of the facts of the case at hand. A female officer he was currently emotionally involved with was pregnant. It did not take a great deal of thought to.. He swore softly.
'Oh Julian, you didn't!' Bashir was in trouble again. This time however, he was at a loss to understand how. He mumbled a nervous reply. Beverly was cross - very cross. Bashir felt suddenly irritated that he was being blamed for something he had no control over. He voiced this feeling, at great length; 'Well how was I supposed to know? I mean, ship's gossip has never been much of an interest of mine. Tell me, how was I supposed to know that Will Riker was romantically involved with Tess Allenby?' Beverly groaned. She knew he was right, and yet.. She grinned suddenly, 'Poor Will. Tell me again how he took the news.' Julian looked sardonically at her; 'You, are a sadist. Not a good trait in a doctor', he grinned and laughed, 'Oh alright! He choked profusely, spat damn near half a glass of synthale over me, the bar and several unfortunates nearby, then I performed the Heimlich Manoeuvre to help him recover his breath. Now, are you done?'
Beverly smiled and patted his shoulder. He looked over at her and grinned. She cleared her throat and replied softly; 'Yes. Look Julian, I'm sorry I blasted off at you. It's just that, I've known Will Riker a long time. I care about him. He's going to be very confused right now and he's going to need help. Especially as he's operating - probably - under the mistaken assumption that he's the father.' Now Bashir gave up completely and dropped any pretence of knowing what was going on; 'Huh? He isn't?' Beverly shook her head, 'No, come on, did you honestly think he was?' He ignored the question, thinking it's answer obvious, 'So why the drama?' Beverly glared at him exasperated, 'Because he's forgotten that she was seeing Lieutenant Carlton before him. And because he's male he thinks that because he is seeing her when the news breaks, naturally that he's the daddy! Wrong, very wrong. Couldn't hardly be more wrong.'
He wiped a hand over his face. It came away slick with sweat. He groaned loudly, expressively. A thought struck, 'Hold on, so if he isn't the father, shouldn't we tell him? I mean.. What?' Beverly once again was shaking her head vehemently. Divining her meaning he was shocked, 'You can't mean not tell him? That's cruel.' Beverly grinned, 'Yes, but very funny. Very, very funny!' It was his turn to shake his head, no; 'Where is he now?' She shrugged, 'I don't know, but I could make a very good guess!'
He coughed nervously. It had been a long time since such a big man had felt so totally and utterly terrified. He pressed the actuator of the door courtesy panel and waited. The reply was not long in coming; 'Come in!' He stepped forward and the door slid open. The room's occupant had her back to him. She was leant over a vase, watering the flowers it contained. He found himself idly admiring her and mentally slapped himself. That was how he'd managed to get himself into the current mess. He coughed. She turned around; 'Oh, hi Will!'
'Imzadi.' She eyed him curiously. The only time he ever used that word was when he had a problem. Of the female variety. Suspecting that she knew the reason she indicated the couch. He sat down slowly, and she sat on a nearby chair. He was fidgeting nervously, his head down as he picked at his fingernails. She was now very curious. This would have to be a very serious problem. One that she now really wanted to know. The waves of emotion flooding in from him were nearly flooding her senses.
'It's Tess..' She cut in, 'I know that, what about her?' He continued nervously, 'She er, she's.. she's pregnant Deanna!' Troi gulped. This was not good. No wonder - she suddenly realised - he'd been so weird when they'd briefed the Captain on the civilian evacuation problem. He must have suspected something, but only just had it confirmed. She looked across at him, wondering how to respond. 'Are you saying you think you're the father?' She inquired slowly. He looked up sharply, 'Well who else is there? I mean to say..' She interrupted swiftly, 'What does Beverly say?' He shrugged. She mimicked the motion as she replied; 'What does.. mean? Come on Will, you're being no help at all!' He growled, 'So what am I supposed to say? That I just found out by accident from Doctor Bashir in Ten-Forward? That I choked and spat half a glass of synthale over him? And that..'
The door enunciator interrupted him. Troi sighed in exasperation. Interruption she did not need, not now. 'Come in!' Irritated. She stared as Beverly Crusher walked in, followed swiftly by Julian Bashir. 'I hope we're not interrupting anything?' Crusher inquired sweetly, but far too innocently. Troi scanned her empathically. She could read extreme amusement and very little else. She frowned. Beverly must know the situation. There was no call for amusement in the current state of play. Unless - the frown deepened - unless all was not quite as it appeared. She did not believe that Bashir would have lied to Will. Which left Will's assumption that he was the father. She let her gaze wander between Will and Beverly, catching her eye. Equally subtly Beverly shook her auburn head, no. Being very careful, Troi noticed, to conceal the grin fighting just below the surface.
'So, Beverly, what can I do for you?' She smiled. Beverly's self control gave up. She grinned openly. 'Well, it's not actually you I wanted to see Deanna, it's Will.' She turned to Riker, 'Congratulations Will, I just heard!' There was a snort from Bashir, a warning note in his voice as he spoke; 'Beverly! Remember what we agreed?' She turned to him, a disappointed expression on her face; 'Spoilsport! Oh, alright! Actually Will, I have a bit of good news for you. Julian tells me that he let slip about Tess' pregnancy..' Will spluttered, 'Let slip!' She coughed, trying to fight back the fit of giggles; 'Er yes. Anyhow, as usual I did all the usual tests. And found out the name of the father..' The sentence had an unfinished air, hanging as it was in the air like a time bomb.
Having had enough of the suspense Deanna broke the spell. 'O.K. Beverly, now spill it!' The comment got her a 'Thanksalot!'. 'Lieutenant Carlton. Will, she was already pregnant when you started seeing her. She's three weeks gone, and you only started seeing her, what? Ten days ago?' He nodded having breathed a shuddering sigh, but not one - Troi noticed - of relief. Puzzled she regarded him quizzically. He shrugged, and all the pieces fell into place at once. He had been looking forward - nervously, yes - to being a dad. He was at the age when he was looking back on his life and - she realised - regretting that all he saw was career. Where was the legacy of Will Riker? She reached out to touch his hand gently. Looked over to speak to Bashir and Crusher. And found they were alone.
'Will, I know! It hurts, no doubt she will want to go back to him now. But I also know that it is not the only reason you're hurting. You wanted this to be your child. You're looking back - probably at us..', he winced, '..and thinking what have I done with my life? What do I have to show for myself? Will, you have everything going for you. Don't spoil it all. Don't rush into something without thinking it through properly first...' She stopped as he held up his hand to quiet her; 'Deanna, thanks. But I think I need to work this one out on my own.' He stood and she rose to her feet following him. As he reached the door he turned and kissed her on the cheek. 'Imzadi.' She swallowed fighting her emotions, husking 'Forever Will, forever.' He turned and left to return to his own quarters.
Left on her own Deanna reflected. On Will. On how very much like Picard he was becoming. There had been a time when he had told her everything, and he would never have concealed anything. Especially not of this magnitude. He was becoming a loner. A very private person. His emotions - she winced as she recalled his reaction to Sandy's death - were becoming more raw and untamed. It worried her. She sighed. 'I think I'd better clear some free time for the next couple of weeks!'
'Colonel, the Akagi, Monitor and Charleston are all calling in', Kira Nerys was feeling harassed. She shrugged helplessly. Space was becoming full. This many ships in a tight pack was not only confusing to administer, but inherently dangerous. Kira mumbled 'Where do I put them?' Realising the ensign was awaiting her response she scowled; 'Oh, I don't know. Tell them to er, hold their positions and keep their manoeuvring thrusters only on line. We don't need any accidents.' She turned, 'Chief, liaise with all the Chief Engineers. Tell them we've got to transmit the data to the Enterprise now! If we don't the renegade might slip past before we're ready.' O'Brien pushed away from his console replying, 'Aye Colonel.' He turned and strode onto the turbolift, commanding, 'Docking pylon three.' The lift rose and he disappeared from sight. As he waited for his journey to come to an end he tapped his communicator as a thought occurred.
'Colonel, please contact the fleet and request all Chief Engineers to transport to DS9? I think it would be best to carry out the briefing onboard, and save time.' The reply was swift and abrupt, 'Acknowledged. Kira out.' He stepped off the lift and made his way toward the transporter room. Time was - as had been noted - of the essence. He stepped through the door as the first of the arrivals, the representative from the Hood, was stepping down from the central pedestal. He stepped forward introducing himself; 'Miles O'Brien, Operations Chief.' The other grasped the proffered hand in a firm handshake, replying, 'Tony A'Kell, Chief Engineer, the Hood.' He glanced around commenting, 'Nice place you've got here.' O'Brien eyed him warily, unsure if he was the victim of a joke. But the face, which returned his scrutiny, was completely without guile. He took it at face value; 'Thanks, we like it.'
The atmosphere on the Enterprise was tense. Maintaining a constant red alert status was beginning to wear on all crewmembers. Picard glanced wearily to his side as the turbolift door slid open. He sighed as Beverly Crusher entered. Not entirely unexpected. She strode up to his chair and stood in front of him, deliberately making a show of examining all three of those sat in the command chairs. He groaned; 'Yes Doctor?' The reply was swift; 'All three of you are showing signs of serious lack of rest. Basic exhaustion is only a hairsbreadth away. I wouldn't be doing my job if I allowed you to remain on duty. As of now I'm ordering you all to quarters', as they hesitated, 'Go on, move! I'll make sure you're advised at once if anything happens to require your attention.' Grumbling good naturally, for they all knew she was right, all three stood up, Riker arching his back to stretch his stiff muscles. They traipsed slowly to the turbolift as their replacements slid into place. Picard noticing as the doors closed that Crusher herself took Riker's place as Data dropped into his chair.
He stood back against the rear of the lift, arms crossed across his chest. Troi regarded him from the side curiously; 'Captain?' His head rose slowly his expression quizzical; 'Yes Counsellor?' She returned his gaze, 'I know you wanted to stay. But Beverly's right. We all need to rest, I know I do. It just seemed too much effort to move when we didn't have too though, didn't it? Will?' Drawing Riker into the discussion. They both nodded resignedly. She grinned happily having scored the point. Riker spoke up, 'So what do we do now? I feel like a spare part!' Troi glanced at him pityingly; 'Sleep Will, sleep. That's the whole idea. Go back to your quarters, set the computer to wake you in eight hours, then sleep. At least, that's what I'm going to do! See you!' The turbolift doors slid open and she disappeared down the corridor to their left. Picard glanced at Riker grinning suddenly; 'Sounds good to me Number One. See you in eight hours.' He tapped Will's shoulder as he too stepped off the lift and made his way back to his quarters.
Riker sighed heavily and he too exited the turbolift. He groaned as he walked slowly back to his quarters. He rubbed his face in his hands. Damn, he felt horrible. He slipped into his quarters. At the sight of his bed, he suddenly realised how tired he really was. Not bothering to undress he dropped onto the bed, and within seconds was fast asleep. But it was not a peaceful sleep. The events of the day kept looming up out of the dark, Tess, the ball of flame as the Klingon ship disintegrated, the face of a child, Troi. He stirred restlessly, but did not wake.
'Colonel, we're being hailed by the Hood.' Kira glanced up; 'Yes, Ensign?' The young officer replied swiftly, 'They say the transmission to the Enterprise is complete. We should get the results in two hours.' Kira grinned; 'Excellent! Keep me posted.' She turned and stepped up into her office and the door slid shut behind her.
'How's it looking Data?' Geordi was tired, irritable, and very unimpressed. The stats they had received from the fleet were not anything like what he had expected - or that he had hoped for. The coverage available with the provided data was not nearly sufficient, and it was not shaping up to be one of his better days. Data regarded him quizzically noting the tone in his friend's voice. He phrased his answer very carefully, knowing that Geordi was not going to be particularly pleased with it; 'I think we have a problem Geordi', he responded. Geordi was not at all satisfied with this answer and replied, testily, 'Yes Data, that I could figure out for myself! What is the problem?' He was aggravated and weary. He really did not need Data spoon-feeding him information.
Data paused before replying. 'The tachyon pulse from the Merrimac is going to be significantly lower than that of any other ship, and there is going to be a corresponding weakness in our grid as a result. If we are to achieve full coverage their output will have to be supplemented somehow. However, at the present time, I have no idea how this will be accomplished. Rerouting more power through their deflector dish could, conceivably, burn it out completely. Unfortunately, I cannot perceive any other option at this time. Unless, of course, you have any ideas of your own?' He prompted. The silence lengthened as he awaited the response of the Enterprise' Chief Engineer. Who was currently scowling in a displeased, almost ferocious manner.
His answer was forestalled however, by the arrival in Engineering of Picard. LaForge glanced up, surprise replacing the annoyance on his face. This was a totally unexpected occurrence, and he was a little nonplussed by the motivation behind it. Picard strode toward them purposefully. Evidently the previous eight hours sleep had done him infinite good, for he was bright-eyed and alert. Not to mention being in a very inquisitive mood. Geordi noted the latter quality glumly. He knew that the report he was about to make to the captain was not calculated to prolong the good mood for very much longer.
'Captain, sir, I wasn't expecting you', he began warily. Picard noted his tone before replying; 'Relax Mr. LaForge, this is not an official inspection, have no fear. I merely came down, before returning to the bridge, to inquire how the analysis of the data received from DS9 is progressing. Is there any news as yet?' As Data had before him, Geordi considered his reply carefully; 'Yes sir', he replied, 'And I'm afraid it is not good! According to the data, and our Data', he grinned wryly, 'the Merrimac's output is not going to be sufficient for our purpose. The result of which, is that we won't be able to get full coverage. I'm sorry sir.' Picard grinned broadly in response, a totally unexpected reaction. 'Excellent!' Geordi was thrown completely off balance; 'I'm sorry sir? Er, how is that good exactly?' Picard, still smiling, enlightened him.
'Well Geordi', he began, speaking as if to a small child, 'If there is a small gap in the tachyon grid, that we know of, and that will be evident to the Cardassians, perhaps we can herd them into it. At which point we can close the trap, ensnare them', Geordi interrupted, 'And nail them!' Picard regarded him dubiously, 'Yes, so although essentially bad news, this weakness may be turned to our advantage. Please transmit your specifications and any recommendations to Colonel Kira at DS9. She has agreed that DS9 be the C & C centre for the duration of this operation. I shall be dispatching my own messages to both parties, especially to impress upon the Merrimac's captain the pivotal role his ship is to play in the coming drama.' He waited expectantly. 'Aye sir', Geordi snapped, 'I'll get right on it!' He returned his attention to the console to his rear; 'Ensign establish a secure datalink to DS9.' Picard turned to his second officer; 'Mr. Data, if you're finished here, a word if I may?' His upturned palm extended outward indicated the door behind them. Data nodded and strode swiftly out, pausing at the door, to allow Picard to exit ahead of him.
Macet sat in the command chair. Drumming his fingers angrily on the armrest to his side. Similarly Evek occupied the first officer's chair, looking decidedly ill at ease. Not at all happy with his current, unfamiliar post. 'Status!' Macet snapped. Glowering Evek responded, 'Repairs are still underway. They should be completed within thirty minutes. We may then continue on our course to the Cardassian border. Macet grimaced, 'Fool! Don't you realise that the Federation will be ready and waiting for us by now? We must choose another path.' He could tell Evek disagreed. 'Well? You have another proposal?' The reply hissed through the space between them; 'Yes!' Spitting from between Evek's lips. 'What is it?' Evek's eyes hardened, unused to such peremptory commands.
'Our crews are not well equipped to carry out the required repairs. They have only been able to effect patches to the systems. As such a shorter, more direct route, is the only one which guarantees our survival as far as the Cardassian border, much less the success of the entire mission. Agreed, a more circuitous route would be safer, but we would run out of supplies, and fail the very instant we attempt to gain more. Macet grunted sourly. He knew that Evek was undoubtedly correct in his assessment. But he despised the thought. He made a swift, distasteful, decision. 'Very well, agreed.' The remark caught Evek off-guard, and Macet pounced; 'Well? What are you waiting for? Get us underway! Now!'
'Evek to Engineering. Bring the warp-core back on-line. I want to be underway the instant repairs are complete. Evek out!' The response, 'Aye sir!', quite unnecessary, was heard. In the Cardassian military a response was never required, as the automatic assumption was that an order given would be obeyed. Confirmation was akin to an insult. The bridge became deathly quiet. There followed an abrupt, hasty, transmission; 'My apologies sir!' Evek merely grunted, 'See that it doesn't happen again! Bridge out!'
As the lift gate swung open, O'Brien bounded onto the upper deck of Ops. He caught hold of the sides of the stairs and slid down to the central station. He kicked at the nearest console, swearing vehemently, 'Bloody Cardassians! Can't make anything that'll work for more than five minutes without breaking! How the hell do I fix this? He booted the console again. He was amazed to see an array of control displays light its' surface. Quickly he ran a diagnostic of its main functions. He grinned, then laughed aloud. Scratching his head briskly with his free hand; 'Well, I don't know how, but it's working!' A better engineer than some, he added under his breath, 'Still, I would like to know why it broke down in the first place!'
He turned to find Kira behind him, arms folded across her chest. A broad grin splayed across her face. 'Yes, Colonel? Anything wrong?' Kira's grin broadened; 'Er, no Chief, I was just, er, observing your.. unique.. operating style.' O'Brien grunted good naturedly, responding, 'Well it works for me! Anyway', he tapped the console behind him, 'Should be OK now!' Kira stepped up, all business; 'Good, we need that sensor array. It wouldn't do for the Cardassians to arrive unannounced. That could ruin a lot of people's days, ours included!'
O'Brien's eyes flashed to the display to his right. Noting the incoming transmission from LaForge he quickly entered his code key, surmising that the encryption of the incoming data would be keyed to him. He grinned as the garbled data became clear. He was right. Geordi had remembered his code key and tailored the transmission to his personal attention. Then as the content of the message became evident to him he grimaced in turn. Kira was quick to notice his demeanour.
'What is it Chief?'
'Looks like trouble. The Merrimac doesn't have the power to lay down the coverage in their sector of the net. Captain Picard seems to think that the Cardassians will spot the weakness and attempt to exploit it. He feels that if the gap is exploited we can use it to our advantage and slam the door behind them once they take the bait...'
'But you don't agree.' It was a statement.
O'Brien glanced at Kira, a question in his eyes. Understanding dawned on her and she thought swiftly. 'Ah. I agree. Macet is not stupid. Nor is Evek. If they see the gap, there is no guarantee that they will swallow the bait. The problem is what they will do then', O'Brien nodded slowly in agreement. Tactical Chief of a starship, the USS Rutledge at Setlik III, during the Cardassian border wars, he had vast firsthand experience of Cardassian tactics. He grimaced, as his instincts told him the most likely effect of the Cardassians encountering the hostile net and the weakness therein.
'They'll pounce', he commented flatly, 'open the gap wide with phasers and photons. Probably target the Merrimac and possibly the ships either side. Then pour on the power and drive straight through at warp. We'll have little or no opportunity to prevent it.'
Kira nodded her agreement to his assessment. She clamped her lips tight in deep thought. Gathering together every scrap of data she knew of Cardassians in general and of the two Guls, Macet and Evek in particular. Her teeth ground together as she concentrated on the task at hand. Aware that those around were waiting, she gathered her wits.
'Best I can suggest is that we pull back once they reveal their position... then rip them apart with phaser and photon fire. Only problem with that is.. they will reveal their position by destroying one or more of our ships.
So.. we are left with weighing up the position. Do we sacrifice one ship or even two to prevent a future war which could cost billions of lives on both sides?'
She paused, thinking. All eyes rested on her. She shifted uneasily. Devil's Advocate was not a position she was remotely content with. Nor, she realised with some relief, one she had to maintain. Turning to the Ops officer she snapped, 'Get me the Enterprise.. now! Chief... you continue to liaise with LaForge to lay out the net. For now we will continue with plan A, until such time as we are advised of any alternative.' Both officers nodded and turned away to resume stance at their consoles.