"The Gatherers," Nicole said, in the tone of one who might say, "The pirates."

"As long as you don't say 'the Reavers', it's fine," Elle said. "Probably." Firefly was a good show. Really good show. Did they have Firefly in the database? She'd have to check. "Or are the Gatherers like the Borrowers?"

"Space nomad pirates," Nicole said.

"Ah." Elle considered this. "Should I hide my vintage books?"

Nicole laughed. "Not unless your vintage books can power a spaceship."

"Oh, those kind of pirates." Elle shrugged. "I have nothing interesting except a vintage 23rd century tricorder and phaser. Slightly waterlogged, but they still work."

"You have a phaser?" Nicole echoed, startled.

"Yup." Elle considered this. "Do I have to recertify my weapons training? Alexa, can you ask Worf if I have to recertify?"

"Star Fleet regulations say yes," Alexa replied.

"Thank you, computer," Elle said, realizing she'd almost blown the AI's cover.

Nicole didn't even notice. "Hey, you should come over and watch the Federation Olympics this weekend. If we stay in this sector we'll get it streamed with only an hour delay."

Even in the 21st century Elle had no interest in the Olympics, but- "Sure," Elle said.

"Oh, and you have to sign up for Trivia Feud," Jetta added, finally pulling her nose out of the holographic model of an Andorian digestive system. "Next game is day after tomorrow."

Elle blanched. "Trivia? I wouldn't know any of the answers."

"Well you can pick your topics," Jetta said, "you can do history, or social issues, or literature. It's not all 'what were the top five fashion fads on Argelius'?"

"Oh, I've been to Argelius," Elle mentioned.

The twins regarded her with astonishment. "How, risque," Nicole said, giggling.

Elle rolled her eyes. "It was shore leave, I went to an art museum. And then there was a serial killer issue so everyone got recalled but, you know. I've been there. Didn't notice any high fashions though. How do you play this trivia game though? Is it like, pub night?"

"No, no, this is our own version of a game show. Anyone on the Enterprise can join. Commander Riker joins a team sometimes. So there are two teams for a certain topic, and then we have to answer the top five or six most popular answers, pulled from like, Federation surveys. And then we all have cupcakes."

Elle started to grin. "You mean it's like Family Feud?"

"What's that?"

"This game."

"Oh. So you'll join?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll come to one, and then join next time."

"Sure! Audience also gets cupcakes, it's a win-win."

Elle smiled. "Nice."

-/\-

"Computer, location of Commander Riker."

"Commander Riker is in Ten-Forward."

"Thank you." Elle tucked Simba the Third into her hoodie pocket and went to find Commander Riker. Apparently to recertify she had to check with her nearest guardian, who also conveniently happened to be her Fleet liason.

She entered Ten-Forward and spotted Riker and Troi talking to a... guest? Delegate? Picard was talking to another woman that definitely looked delegate-y. And a decidedly rough looking man was speaking to Wesley.

"Alexa is that one of the Gatherers?" she whispered, wondering if the computer could still pick up her voice.

"Yes," came the equally soft whisper from the nearest wall screen.

Guinan glanced over at Elle and gestured.

Elle obediently came to the bar and sat down, putting Simba on the counter. "Hi, Guinan."

"Hello, Elle. Simba."

The tribble purred agreeably.

Guinan inclined her head towards Picard's conversation partner. "Marouk, Sovreign of Acamar. We've found ourselves mediating the end of a blood feud."

Elle blinked, startled. "Another family feud?"

Guinan smiled. "This one's a little more high-stakes than fresh cupcakes," she mentioned.

"No kidding," Elle said, subtly watching the differences between Marouk and the Gatherer. She raised an eyebrow as Troi got up and walked away, leaving Riker and the Acamarian woman to talk. Elle could feel the Patented Riker Charm from here, but Troi just smiled and exited, secure in the confidence of her affections. Elle rolled her eyes. "When are they just gonna stop flirting with other people and get together?" she asked.

Guinan laughed. "You would know better than me, Elle."

Elle sighed. "Would it be unethical to tell them they should just kiss already and give Picard grandchildren before he gets too old to enjoy them?"

Guinan's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "No one else can answer that question for you, Elle." She lowered her voice, eyes twinkling. "Though I think we would all lament the lack of facial hair."

Elle thought of Insurrection and grimaced. "Does Riker still have a jawline?"

Guinan laughed and handed Elle a frozen strawberry lemonade. "Some things have to happen at their own pace."

"I mean, yeah," Elle said, "but sometimes its inertia."

Guinan shrugged, eyes still twinkling. "If you want to meddle, I'd suggest you read Emma first."

Elle cringed. "Oh, I've seen that movie, I don't wanna be that person." She slurped at her frozen lemonade, casting all thoughts of matchmaking out of her mind. She watched the Acamarian woman return to her sovereign, and a moment later Riker got up and made for the exit.

Elle grabbed Simba and hurried after him. "Commander?"

"On my way to sickbay, walk with me," he commanded. "What's up?"

Elle fell into step with him. "I wanna recertify my phaser training and go for away team certification."

Riker nodded. "Good idea." He glanced at her. "Have you talked to Deanna about this?"

"A little bit," Elle said.

They arrived in sickbay and Dr. Crusher waved them over. "Will, I've discovered something very interesting. The old Gatherer on the planet? I know what caused his heart attack. The medical tricorder almost missed it, but there was a microvirus in his body, blocking his autonomic nerve impulses, one specifically engineered to attack his genes specifically."

"Murder," Elle whispered, with the accompanying irreverent jazz hands.

"Yes," Crusher said grimly.

"Ok, ignoring the fact that this is clearly a targeted bio-weapon that's actually really cool," Elle said, peering at the analysis on the screen. "Look at that little virus-bot!"

Riker and Crusher shared a glance. "I can see Dr. McCoy was your biology teacher," Crusher said dryly.

Elle grinned. "Yeah..."

"We'll see if we can get access to the Acamarian medical database," Riker said, frowning. "Elle, you don't remember anything about this?"

"It seems familiar, but you guys had a lot of episodes and if people are flirting a lot I skip through them..." She trailed off, thinking.

"Flirting?" Dr. Crusher asked, interested. "Will? Who are we flirting with?"

Riker's ears turned red. "Well. The Acamarian sovereign's chef is a very talented cook-"

"Ohh, the poisoner," Elle realized. "It is the family feud!"

"Poison?" Riker blanched.

"Well, the, the engineered virus thingamabob," Elle said, gesturing vaguely at the screen. "This one clan, against the remaining members of the other clan, and she's like super old but her body's in slo-mo. Or something. You always end up flirting with the person who ends up becomign the bad guy, that's how I remember."

Riker huffed a sigh. "Okay. We need to inform the captain."

When pressed, the chef did indeed confess to being of the Clan Tralesta, which had been at odds with the old man's clan Voltron-something-or-other. Elle stopped paying attention after the chef was escorted to a holding cell. Which meant the captain still had to mediate peace between the Gatherers and the remaining Acamarians.

"Any other hints?" Riker asked.

Elle shrugged. "Sorry. It's up to the captain now."

"Your confidence in me is astounding," Picard said dryly.

Elle gave him a double thumbs-up. "Oh captain, my captain, I have the utmost faith in your skills at mediating conflicts," she intoned.

Picard rolled his eyes. "I'm going to have Beverly cast you in the next table reading," he threatened, and went out to speak to the Acamarians.

Riker was grinning.

"What?" Elle asked, sticking Simba the Third in her hoodie pocket.

"I never thought I would see Jean-Luc Picard trading barbs with a sixteen-year-old," Riker sighed, rather sappily.

"It's called character development," Elle sniffed, secretly pleased.

-/\-

"The wars are over, Yuta."

"You cannot understand."

"You're right, I can't. Because I've seen the part of you that regrets what you've become. Listen to me. You don't have to do this any more."

"I have no choice. William, I. I'm sorry."

"Stop."

Blasts of phaser fire.

"Yuta, don't do this."

Another blast, blinding. There is one less person on the surface of the planet.

Elle jolted awake, gasping. "For episodic knowledge, you're late," she told her subconscious. It didn't matter, now. Yuta was in the brig, the Gatherer truce was almost complete, and Riker hadn't even gotten attached to her.

The idea still turned Elle's stomach. She got out of bed, wrapped a slouchy cardigan around her shoulders, and picked up the tribble. Simba the Third began purring loudly in response to her distress.

She went to the nearest observation deck, the one sandwiched in between the mess hall on deck six and the mold culture lab. There was no one there at this time of night. Usually the only ones there were the biology people - there was a Cuban coffee pot in the corner. "Do not drink coffee at two in the morning," she muttered to herself. "Don't do it."

Elle sat on the bench facing the stars and pulled one leg up under her. She kicked the other leg aimlessly, realized she didn't have shoes. "Whoops, safety violation," she whispered to Simba the Third. "Don't tell Worf."

Considering that Simba the Third had a deep and unyielding aversion to Worf (and vice versa), her minor rulebreaking would probably be fine.

Staring out at the stars as they made their way to Starbase 343, Elle wondered if the change would be noticeable, if Yuta staying alive as the last of her clan would change any dynamics for the Acamarians. If she could be helped, in some way, to let go of her anger.