A/N: Started this chapter, had zero transitions, no inspiration except one conversation with Picard and one bad joke. Now it's a day late and two chapters. Huh?

"All right, how do I look?"

Simba the Third trilled.

"Good." Elle picked up the tribble and kissed its forehead. "You nervous?"

Simba trilled again, a little softer, and nuzzled her cheek.

"Me too." Elle gave it a final kiss and tucked the tribble back into its habitat.

She walked to the rec deck, attempting to portray a confident mien. "C'mon Elle. You've herded alien-possessed orphans around a ship for days, you can do this. You got this." Cast out fear. Mentally prepared, Elle walked up to the kiddie pool.

The teacher, Mrs. Malkoch, smiled at her. "Right on time." She clapped her hands, garnering the attention of the ten kids standing at the pool's edge. "Everybody, you know Elle."

"Hi!"

Elle waved at the assorted four-to-eight-year-olds. "Hi."

"Elle is going to be my assistant for the next few weeks." Mrs. Malkoch reviewed the rules, and then turned to Elle. "Could you stand on the steps and help everyone get into the pool safely?"

Elle nodded.

As everyone knows, a four-to-eight-year-old's preferred manner of entering the pool is hopping from the top step and pinwheeling their arms.

Elle was already desensitized to water in her face by the time the last kid was in the pool. Unfortunately, Counselor Troi was good at her job.

Also, even if they are in the water, lugging around small children to prevent them from accidentally drowning each other in sheer unbridled enthusiasm is hard work.

Elle slept excellently that night.

-/\-

"-And the clan of the Eye said, no. Stated? Stated their intentions, and-"

"Elle Wilcott to the captain's ready room."

Elle reached out and tapped the comm switch. "On my way." She gave Satel an apologetic grin. "Sorry."

"There is no need to apologize," Satel said placidly. "You have duties. And your Vulcan to Standard translation is proceeding admirably."

Elle inclined her head. "See you tomorrow." She waved bye to Satel's dad and left their apartment.

Captain Picard was waiting for her with a cup of vanilla chai. "We are on our way to Rutia Four," he said, sliding the glass teacup across the desk. "A planet that is currently undergoing significant social strife." He flipped the laptop monitor around and showed her the mission briefing.

Elle scooted her chair closer and read through the brief. "Medical supplies... freedom fighters... they're not part of the Federation?"

"No, but they have requested medical and disaster relief," Picard said.

"Cool."

Riker entered the room. "Security reports readiness, sir" he said, handing over a PADD. "Dr. Crusher wants one final sweep of supplies before Medical reports readiness."

"Thank you, Number One."

Riker leaned his elbow on Elle's head in a supremely annoying brotherly manner. "Nice armrest you have, captain," he said. "Surprisingly comfy."

Picard smirked at Elle's glare. "That armrest is also combat-rated, commander. I'd be careful if I were you."

Riker grinned and ruffled Elle's hair. "What do you think?" he asked. "Is this an episode?"

Elle batted at his hands. "I don't know, I haven't read all the way, you're interrupting me."

"Coffee?" the captain asked. "I've been meaning to ask you, Will..."

Their discussion faded into the background as Elle read through the planetary history section. "The Ansata freedom fighters have progressed to acts of terror on the civilian populace, no longer stating terms or allowing acts of compromise. The Rutian government has no plans at this time to release the Ansata continent as a free nation, leading to increased tension. All Federation relief ships should be on highest alert."

Elle groaned. "Wait, no, this is definitely an episode."

"Are you sure?" Picard asked, sobering.

"I'm sure. I know, because it has ties to both Star Wars and Doctor Who."

Riker didn't even blink. "Why?"

"The name of this episode is The High Ground!" Elle laughed to herself and then quickly sobered. "Sorry. It's not actually funny."

Picard looked at Riker, the captain's I-don't-speak-teenager face on.

Riker smothered a grin. "Okay, I get the Star Wars reference, but Doctor Who? That old monster sci-fi show?"

"I feel offended at that description," Elle decided. "But yes. Because it's about the moral high ground! The Daleks can kill us stone dead but we have the moral high ground, so who's the real winner here?"

"I don't know what a Dalek is."

"You, are a Philistine," Elle decided. "And on further contemplation, I think Obi-Wan is also talking about having the moral high ground because both times he's beaten the bad guys he's been on physically lower ground... hmm."

Riker shook his head. "The point of all this being?"

"Being we become a prime target for their next attack!" Elle looked at the captain. "My official recommendation, captain, is not to send anyone down to the planet."

Picard frowned. "This is a relief mission. I will have to send down security and medical personnel."

Elle grimaced. "Just make sure, make sure that everyone's careful. Really careful. And don't let Dr. Crusher beam down."

Picard's eyebrows went up. "I don't think I could stop her from overseeing the medical facilities herself."

"Okay, fine, but make sure she knows the freedom fighters are snatching medical personnel."

His eyebrows went higher. "Hm. I will speak to her."

"As in, she has to think with her Star Fleet tactical brain, not her Hippocratic Oath feral McCoy brain."

Riker put his hand over his mouth. "I'd pay money to see you tell her that, verbatim," he told his captain, snickering.

Picard snorted. "I'd pay money to not say that to her, verbatim. Elle, what exactly happens in this episode?"

"'Splosion, Dr. Crusher stays down there, gets abducted, works on the sick freedom fighters, they come after the Enterprise, you get abducted for Federation leveraging, Worf comes in guns blazing, blah blah blah."

They stared at her.

"There was something in there about dimensional shifting," Elle said. "The kind that the alternate universe Torchwood had in that one Doctor Who episode." She frowned. "Come to think of it... did Doctor Who steal this plot device?"

"Focus, please," Picard said patiently. "What dimensional shifting?"

"It's, like a transporter. They shift through dimensions to go from one place to another with this button thing. Wesley figures out how to triangulate their home base, but shields don't work against those things."

Picard frowned. "It sounds plausible enough. Number One, put us on yellow alert while we're in orbit, have security standing by at all critical systems. And we're going up a level on away team protocol. Absolutely no leisure time on-planet. I want us in and out."

"Yes, sir."

-/\-

Their arrival at Rutia Four was heralded with pleasure by governmental authorities and no sign of Ansatan activity. Picard begrudgingly gave the go-ahead to start beaming down personnel and supplies. From the headache-y look on his face, Elle surmised he actually had spoken to Dr. Crusher.

She slipped away to go to swim class. Forewarned was fore-armed, right?

-/\-

Elle had just finished drying her hair when Commander Riker commed her.

"Elle, there's been an incident."

Elle stopped, towel in hand. "What happened?"

"Dr. Crusher's been taken. The captain's having a briefing with Wesley in five minutes and he wants to talk to you as well."

"On my way." Elle threw her hair into a loose braid and pulled on her shoes.

It was just Picard, Troi, and Wesley in the captain's ready room. "We have no reason to believe she's been hurt in any way," Troi was saying calmly, mostly directed at Wesley.

Picard nodded. "In fact, it's more than likely that they will take good care of her, if they want to use her as a bargaining chip."

"Bargaining chip?" Wesley asked, startled.

"The innocent often become the pawns in conflicts of this type, Wes."

Elle nodded.

"You see, the Ansata separatists have been trying for generations to freed themselves from the rule of the eastern continent. If they can get the government just to acknowledge their demands, then kidnapping your mother will have served its purpose. I think that may be what they're after, but it may not. Frankly, Wesley, I don't care. My only concern is to get your mother back. Very shortly, we shall be leaving to have a meeting with the authorities."

"Request permission to be on the away team, sir," Wesley said immediately.

The captain shook his head. "No. You have an important job to do here. If we are to free your mother, then we have to be able to trace the movements of the terrorists. I want you to work with the team that are investigating this new technology of theirs."

"I understand."

"Report to Mister Data. Dismissed."

Wesley glanced at Elle and she gave him an encouraging smile. He left.

"He needs your strength right now," Troi said softly.

Picard looked grim. "History has shown us that strength may be useless when faced with terrorism." He looked at Elle. "You were right."

"I really wish I wasn't," Elle replied. "Did she stay behind to treat attack victims?"

"No. They actively pulled her from the medical center."

"Then it was specific targeting."

"Yes. Do you have any other ideas?"

Elle shook her head. "I've been thinking about it, but I can't remember any specific technology or device names. What I do remember is that type of dimensional shifting does cause internal damage to living tissue."

"Hence the need for a doctor."

"Yes, sir. She's not being harmed."

Picard blew out a relieved breath. "That's good. That's, good. Thank you, Elle."

-/\-

Three days in, it was getting a little tense.

Elle hesitated. "Captain?"

"Yes, Elle?"

"I'm not saying I agree with the underground fighters, because terrorism is bad, but, if nobody's listening, what are they supposed to do?"

Picard sighed. "The thing is, Elle, violence isn't the solution. It is never the solution, no matter how bleak it seems. Even when words, diplomacy, trade, mediation, even if those things fail, violence is only a temporary brushing-off of the issues. If the problem itself isn't resolved, then there will always be a return to violence. It's not the solution, it's a reaction. The solution will only come when both sides agree to stop fighting and work together instead of against each other. Unfortunately, this may mean one side will escalate until the other side begins to consider it an unacceptable, leading to situations like these."

"But what if they're right?"

"Do the ends justify the means?" Picard asked. "Do the motives justify the actions?"

"Cool motive, still murder," Elle murmured.

"Precisely." Picard regarded her for a moment. "This is, of course, not to say that doing things considered legally wrong is always morally wrong. What would you do if I suddenly ordered the Enterprise to impose martial law on the planet and get rid of the Ansatan freedom fighters?"

Elle tilted her head. "Well, I'd probably nerve pinch you, lock you in the closet, and listen to Commander Riker instead."

"Mutiny," Picard said. "But you would be in the right."

"I get that," Elle said, "I do."

Picard took a sip of his tea. "To fight for your freedom, for your rights and those of others, is not wrong. It is when you cross that line, from fighting for change, to causing violence for violence's sake, to provoke fear, that it changes..." he shook his head.

"What can we do?" Elle asked.

"We can provide mediation if it is asked of us. But Rutia is not aligned with the Federation. We have to let them make their own decisions."

"Even if it's dumb?"

"Even if it's dumb."

Elle sighed.

-/\-

"Hey, Wes. How're you holding up?"

He turned anguished eyes in her direction. "I can't believe you knew. You could've prevented my mom from being abducted!"

Elle winced. "I'm sorry. I did everything I could. I warned the captain. But she had to go down to the planet to help the Rutians. But we'll get her back."

"Help me with the tracking system," he demanded. "Where are they?"

"Underground," Elle said. "Shielded."

"I know that. That's why we can't find them," he huffed, irritated. "Don't you know this episode?"

Elle shook her head slowly. "I'm not a magic eight-ball, Wesley. I don't have the coordinates in my head, and I don't know the math behind triangulating those dimension jumpers. But I do know that you can figure it out. You have those skills, not me. You can do this. I promise."

He stared at her a moment longer. "Okay," he said, and nodded sharply. "Okay." He turned back to the computer.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

He sighed. "It's not your fault. Sorry. It's just, my mom."

"I know. But she's going to be okay. I promise. For reals."