Hope you like reading this as much as I liked writing it!!
He paced back and forth, arms held stiffly behind his back. He needed answers and yet there seemed to be no logical ones around. Every time he tried to close his eyes for the smallest of rests, something huge happened. Picard had just settled into a good book, one he had been meaning to finish for some time now but had never had the time, when he had been informed by his second in command that the 17 year old girl, River, had broken Worf's nose, cracked two of his ribs and bruised his much of his face. He had simply stood, dumb folded at the turn of events.His book had been promptly discarded and forgotten as he had made his was swiftly to Sickbay where the Doctor was tending to Worf's injuries. River was on another bed, where Picard had been told her brother had sedated her with an old fashioned syringe he had had with him and his medical supplies after returning from Serenity. Doctor Crusher had demanded to see all his medical supplies as she believed he was dealing in medieval medicine, but Mal had quickly stepped in to defend his Doctor, saying it was none of her business what medicine they had, it kept them alive when one of them had a partially nasty wound.
He stopped his pacing as Beverly walked over to him, apparently finished with Worf who was now sitting on the biobed.
"He just needs to take it easy but other wise he's fine. I would recommend he spends the rest of the day resting." Beverly concluded.
Picard nodded before asking, "and the girl?"
Beverly looked in her direction as did Picard. Simon was sitting beside her, his eyes fixed again on the padd he had been reading since before this had happened.
"She's sleeping, and that man hasn't left her side since he came in."
Picard nodded, saying nothing. "Do we know why she attacked Worf?" He finally asked.
"He said she hasn't had an outburst like that for some time now. He doesn't know what triggered it off, he never does."
"I'll have two Security guards posted outside the entrance. I don't want something like this happening again." Picard said before leaving. Beverly made her way over to Simon. He looked up at her, reading her face.
"Your Captain's assigning guards, isn't he?" He asked angrily.
"Can you blame him? For what your sister was able to do, I honestly don't think they'll be able to handle her anyway, if she wakes up and decides she hasn't finished what she's started."
Simon said nothing to that, but instead thought back to the moment it had happened. She's said something was here. They? Who were They? Only River could answer that, and she was currently unavailable.
Mal, Kaylee, Wash, Zoë, Shepherd, Inara and Jayne were quietly sitting around the dining table in Serenity, their discussion, as expected, was trained on a certain brother and sister. Especially the sister. Mal had spent the last few hours explaining to Captain Picard why he had fired at his Security Officer. When he thought Picard understood, Mal then demanded to know why Picard hadn't told him about the force fields that came into play when a non-regulation weapon was fired. Picard had simply said it was for the crew's safety which had been demonstrated just a few hours ago.
Kaylee and Geordie had been trying to get the engine running again when Mal had burst into her engine room, giving a curt explanation to Geordie that he needed some privacy to talk to Kaylee. Geordie had left, saying he would return later if Kaylee needed extra hands. Mal couldn't help but notice Geordie seemed somewhat infatuated with Kaylee, not that he particularly cared.
Wash and Zoë had been walking, hand in hand around the Enterprise when they had heard of what had transpired. On their way to Sickbay, they had bumped into Inara who had remained silent except to ask what they knew, all the way.
It hadn't taken long for Mal to figure out where Jayne had gone. They had all been introduced to the holodeck. A wonderful room that could create anything they wanted. A bar type room, women dancing serving drinks to a beautiful lake area hidden behind blossoming trees. Jayne, until this moment, had spent his entire time there.
"Hey, I gots an idea, why don't we just steal one of them fancy do hickers they gots for their ship to kept it running, stick it to ours and get the hell outta here?" Jayne shrugged his shoulders, as if the plan was even worth thinking about. Mal stared at him, his face still and un-laughing.
"Do I look like one in the mood for one of your dumb ass plans to help us escape these nice happy travelers? Honestly, do I? Coz your about this far away," Mal held his fingers together so that they were almost touching, "from being thrown off this boat. Far as I'm concerned, you can stay here. Give them bastards the same headaches you give me." He snapped.
Jayne became silent, knowing his Captain's tone as one not to mess with. It was then that Kaylee, tied of being ignored, slapped her hands on the table to get their attention. Mal jumped in his chair, turning to look at who had made the noise.
"Hey, I've been with their engineer most of the day, and he said, that robot guy, might know how to send us back, in theory." She said timidly. "Said something bout making a star supernova coz some wormhole was unstable. Just needed to be reactivated." She finished nodding.
"That's great. So what the hell does that mean?" Mal asked, throwing his hands into the air.
"Best not think of it. Makes your head spin." Wash offered. "Oh, I know what we can do while we wait. We could replicate a whole heap of food for storage. We are running low you know." He turned to his wife, who smiled at his idea.
"Now that ain't half a bad thought." Jayne commented. "Just need to find someone who can work the bloody things properly."
"What do you mean you can't identify it?" The Romulan Captain of the T'mor, Kirvack, questioned his tactical officer.
"The ships design isn't in our database." He answered, scanning through various texts that might help them identify the ship that sat silently on the edge of their sensors.
"Then check again. Find out what species they are. I want to know who they are." He ordered. "I want to know who's in my space. They'll wish they never crossed into it." Sniggering, he swiftly left the bridge.
Dec'tor quickened his pace. He'd already displeased his Captain; he didn't wish to make the same mistake. A few of the settings to his left began sounding in alarm. The unknown ship was picking up speed, and heading straight for them. Alerting the Captain over the con, he armed the torpedoes.
"What is it?" Kirvack gruffly demanded, walking back onto the bridge he'd left only minutes ago.
"The unknown ship is picking up speed. They'll be within firing range in six minutes." He reported.
Kivack turned to the Communications officer. "Any response to hails?"
"None sir." He shook his head.
At that moment, a shock wave shook through the ship. Kirvack was thrown to the floor but quickly picked himself back up again, his face burning with anger.
"Fire at will." He hissed to Dec'tor, as he sat stiffly in his chair, leaning forward.
They let fire a volley of their own shots and watched in satisfaction as they hit their target.
"Sir, they appear to be picking up more speed. They're on a collision course!" Dec'tor's hands flew over his controls, trying to get the ship out of the way. But in truth, the black ship did not intend to smash into them, it intended to dock. And dock is what it managed to do, after more damage was taken. Kirvack, his face red with fury, sent 12 officers to the docking port. If anyone intended to board the ship, they would be killed before they knew what hit them.
Reaching the dock, they drew their weapons. Kirvack stood behind Dec'tor as the door creaked open. What they saw, they did not expect. A fury of people, looking somewhat like humans rushed them. Through some of them had weapons, most didn't use them. They bared their blackened teeth, their faces, scared and bleeding, and bit into their flesh. Kirvack stood frozen. Never before had he seen such insanity. And the last thing he knew, before he left this world, was the knife that sliced thought his throat and the stench of flesh and blood that became imprinted into his brain.