Author's Note: We're leaving Iconia "in the dust" so the Enterprise can get back to Federation space, setting the stage for a showdown between the team and the conspirators.
They've got a plot to unmask and a wedding (or two).
This chapter is the start of the aftermath.
Most importantly, it marks a shift away from the ensemble nature of this arc and back to a Data/Tasha focus.
This arc lays the groundwork for storylines that will carry throughout The Complication series.
I recognise the expansion in perspectives has been a swing in the tone. We're moving to final chunk of this fic.
And while there will be some ensemble bits (and a few Romulan perspective updates), Data and Tasha's relationship remains the primary focus.
Thank you for your patience in indulging me!
Content Warning: violence, pregnancy (& related symptoms), vomiting, suicide, death (minor character)
"Welcome to the Enterprise," Picard said.
Riker yanked the disruptor straight out of Subcommander Taris's hands.
She dove to make a move for the blade holstered at her side. Lieutenant Musiker leapt to her feet and caught Taris's arm.
"You don't get to go out like that," Raffi said.
She glared at Taris. At the moment, Taris was the nearest thing for Raffi to direct anger toward.
The Yamato was gone. Her home was destroyed. Her friends, her Captain, more than a thousand lives lost…
"You might as well kill me now. I won't tell you anything," Taris said.
"We'll see about that," Raffi replied, holding Taris's gaze.
Raffi felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Later," Picard said.
He recognised that anger. He knew what it could do to a person. He didn't blame Lieutenant Musiker. In fact, Jean-Luc recognised much of himself in her.
"Sir, we're receiving a hail from the Thomas Paine," Hawk announced.
"On screen," Picard ordered.
Captain Rixx, who had previously been on a private call with Riker, glanced from Picard to Taris and back again.
Jean-Luc wasn't sure where to begin. Rixx raised his hand to indicate an explanation was unnecessary.
"You can fill me in later. Right now, there's more Romulan ships inbound. We need to determine a course and get the hell out of here," Rixx said.
"How long?" Picard asked.
"Half an hour. Tops. And sensors indicate the Romulan vessel briefly experienced a significant drop in antimatter containment field stability," Rixx warned.
It was a precursor of what had occurred on the Yamato.
"Those idiots," Riker muttered.
Jean-Luc turned to his First Officer.
"La Forge found a way to purge the Iconian virus from the computer, sir. We informed the Romulans but they—"
Riker paused.
"Well, let's just say I don't think they took our warning seriously," he concluded.
"I'll open a channel. You can speak with your ship. Urge them to shut it down before it's too late," Picard said, turning to Taris.
He recognised the look on Taris's features as she weighed the validity of his offer. She had no reason to believe Captain Picard. She was a prisoner on his ship.
"Trust me," Jean-Luc pleaded.
Taris nodded.
On Picard's orders, Worf opened a channel to the Romulan ship. It took three attempts—including Taris's own—before Major Orser would answer the hail.
Riker reiterated the instructions from La Forge.
"We're transmitting them to you now, please," Riker said.
"Do as they say," Taris commanded.
Orser steeled himself.
"As you are aware, Subcommander, protocol dictates that I disregard any orders now that you have been captured. May the Divines show you mercy."
With that, Orser disconnected the channel.
Rixx jumped in on audio to advise that there was another drop in containment integrity on the Romulan ship.
Picard surveyed the Bridge.
"Warp engines?"
"Online," Hawk answered.
"The children?" Picard asked.
"Made it through safely," Worf reported.
Indeed, Lieutenant Aarden was seated in Riker's usual chair.
There was just one final thing for Picard to confirm.
"And the planet? Lieutenant Jae? Do we have any readings?"
Jean-Luc had to be certain.
"I'm having a hard time penetrating the atmosphere, sir. Sensor readings indicated a massive build-up in pressure under the surface. It's consistent with a large hydrothermal explosion," Jae said.
Captain Rixx shared their own sensor readings indicated significant volcanic and seismic activity on the surface.
"We just launched a probe. We can monitor from a distance," Rixx said.
"Set a course for the Neutral Zone and get us out of here," Picard ordered.
Hawk immediately punched in the fastest route. He transmitted the coordinates to his counterpart on the Thomas Paine.
Jean-Luc sat down in his customary chair and signalled for Hawk to make the jump to warp speed.
Two warp bubbles opened.
Major Orser's lip curled as he watched the ships vanish.
"Set in a course to pursue!" Orser demanded. "And hail the fleet! Notify them of their course."
The Uhlan at the helm typed furiously to lay in a new course.
"Sir, navigation is not responding!"
Suddenly, the ship-wide alert system began to blink. An emergency message from the Engineering section cut through.
"We're losing antimatter containment!"
Orser stared at the viewscreen where the planet that had once housed Iconia lay below, desolate and ruined.
Dust.
"Klanda ah, klanda… klanda eir, klanda…"
The self-destruct sequence had activated on its own. They couldn't shut it down. The crew on the Bridge initiated an evacuation.
The Uhlan at the helm transmitted an emergency message to the inbound ships. A Centurion Tactical officer shouted for Orser to issue commands.
Orser remained motionless in front of the viewscreen.
The Centurion punched the communications control and issued the order to abandon ship. He barked at two guards to leave Orser and make their way to the escape pods.
There was a mad dash as Romulan troops across the ship scrambled for the nearest escape pod or shuttle.
"Klanda hwi, klanda… klanda rei, klanda…"
Orser did not understand. He had followed protocol, he was a faithful solider that had served the Romulan Star Empire all his life.
The inbound ships would find the logs. They would know Orser had been in command, that he had failed to stop the Enterprise, that he was responsible for the destruction of his own ship.
Why had the Divines forsaken him to such a fate?
Orser watched, mesmerised by the swirling clouds on the planet below.
"Klanda rha, klanda… klanda mriv, klanda…"
Orser squeezed his eyes shut.
The antimatter containment failed.
When the Romulan ships arrived to answer the emergency hail, they found only the debris of dust and shadow.
USS Enterprise | Bridge
"Number One, get La Forge up here to look at Data. He suffered some kind of… I don't know," Picard confessed.
Data remained motionless on the floor of the Bridge.
His power cell was still beating, but he had said nothing since his odd, terrifying breakdown on Iconia.
"Mr Worf, please escort Subcommander Taris to the Brig," Picard ordered.
A look passed between Worf and Commander Riker.
"I'm afraid the turbolifts aren't functioning, sir," Riker informed him.
"Alright. Take her to the Observation Lounge for now."
"I'm sorry. The Observation Lounge is occupied. The children, sir," Riker said.
Jean-Luc sighed in frustration. He hated to be out of the loop.
"Fine. Take her to my Ready Room and keep her under guard unless you're going to tell me that's in use too?"
Riker blanched. He laughed nervously.
"Well, sir… Counsellor Troi had a medical emergency and—"
"The loo down on Deck 3?" Picard suggested, thrusting his arms out to drive home the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Occupied by another prisoner," Worf announced.
Jean-Luc fought the urge to snap. He settled for pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Do we have a spare closet?" he asked sarcastically.
Worf and Riker fell unusually silent.
"There's a lot that's happened since you went down to the surface," Riker said.
"Clearly," Picard replied.
Captain Picard, Commander Riker, and Worf were in the Ready Room discussing the situation with Geordi on a video channel.
"We've released pistophin gas in the primary Jefferies tubes sections around Main Engineering. We think it's holding the Romulans in place—for now," Geordi advised.
He was still down in Main Engineering.
They couldn't risk restarting the turbolifts.
There were Romulans on the Enterprise. Jean-Luc could hardly believe it. Any other day that alone would warrant an emergency and Red Alert.
Now it was fighting for space as the highest priority.
"We've got about another ten minutes before the pistophin wears off," Geordi said.
Captain Picard turned to Riker.
"Explain to me why you don't want to send teams to go after the Romulans," Picard requested.
"I'm not sure who we can trust, Captain," Riker began.
He sat down across from Jean-Luc and practically collapsed into the chair. Riker's back was killing him. He did not use the opportunity to tell the Captain 'I told you so.'
Jean-Luc already felt terrible enough for dismissing Riker's earlier concerns about a mutiny.
"There's a lot of scared people on the ship. Since you've been gone, we've had mutiny and insubordination and infiltration," Riker shared. "I've got Lieutenant Ford holding a room full of mutineers in the conference room."
Riker only had a handful of people that were available in the vicinity, and he needed them guarding those mutineers.
"We'd only just restored communications shortly before your arrival," Riker said.
"Lieutenant Jae has initiated a deck-by-deck check-in with each section. It is a long list and there is no way of knowing we can trust," Worf pointed out.
"Sickbay's been cut off. We can't make contact with Doctor Crusher. Her access code was used to seal the bulkheads on Deck 12," Riker said.
Jean-Luc visibly tensed.
"Life signs?" he asked tentatively.
"It looks like she's being held with a number of other personnel by one of the Romulan strike teams," Riker said.
Picard had to check his reaction—and prayed to any deity listening that Beverly kept her mouth shut and her head down.
He was further frustrated by the fact he couldn't ask Deanna for counsel. She was out cold, still reeling from the effects of the mental strain of her empathic powers.
"Where is Lieutenant Yar?" Picard asked.
He'd noted her absence on the Bridge and surmised Tasha was trapped on one of the sections.
"In custody, Captain," Will said.
Jean-Luc baulked. Will put up a hand to silence him.
"Sir, it is a long story. Please trust me. I had to make that call. We believe she's been compromised," Will said.
Jean-Luc was itching to know the details.
Tasha?
It wasn't possible.
Just like Gregory Quinn? A little voice in the back of Picard's mind said.
His mind spiralled with possible theories. Had Tasha been overtaken by a parasite? Was she the next victim of the Romulan conspiracy?
And for how long?
They had shared months of secret conversations. Tasha was the one to raise the possibility of a spy in the first place.
Which would be the perfect cover! The voice was back.
Picard couldn't allow himself to dwell on that issue. There were more pressing matters at hand.
"Captain, how's Data?"
Geordi had been burning to ask that question ever since he was informed Data was unconscious.
"Truthfully, Mr La Forge, he's not well," Picard answered. "Lieutenant Musiker is with him now. She's one of the officers from the Yamato."
"Captain, I'd like to get up there as soon as I can to—"
"I know, Mr La Forge. But I need you in Engineering," Picard interjected before adding, "the same applies to Mr O'Brien. I want him working on a way to beam those Romulans to the Brig."
They suspected the Romulan shock troops were using some kind of transporter interference device because they could not get a lock on their signals.
"Captain, we need Data," Geordi insisted.
"Geordi, I don't believe Mr Data will be in any condition to assist," Picard said.
Data's final moments on Iconia had been alarming. Jean-Luc had never before seen Data react that way to anything—even the Edo probe that had scrambled his neural net a year prior.
"Sir, if this is the same Iconian virus that infected our computers then we need to shut it down before it overwrites Data's entire system. We could lose Data forever. Or he could become a danger to the ship," Geordi argued.
Geordi was clearly distressed.
"At… at least deactivate him for now. Trust me, Data would understand given the circumstances," Geordi said
Picard glanced over at Worf.
"Do it," he ordered.
Data was in the Captain's quarters, just off the Ready Room. Worf stepped away to see to that task. He returned a moment later to advise it was done.
"Captain, I'd like to send someone to look at Data. Please," Geordi requested.
"Make it so," Picard agreed.
Jean-Luc turned to Riker.
"I know you've had a long day, Will. I am afraid I must call on you one more time."
Geordi pulled open the hatch to a secondary maintenance access shaft. It was a small section that connected Main Engineering to one of the ship's primary vertical Jefferies tubes.
"You'll have a head start over the Romulans—but only a couple of minutes," Geordi cautioned. "And once you reach the Jefferies tube, you'll need to be sure to seal the bulkhead behind you before you begin your ascent."
A small amount of pistophin gas would escape after opening the bulkhead in the shaft. But the scrubbers in that maintenance crawlspace would be sufficient to prevent it from reaching Main Engineering—provided the bulkhead was sealed again.
"And remember, you'll have eighty-three minutes of breathable air," Geordi advised as he handed over the breather.
It was a small device that one could attach over their nose and mouth that was used in short-term emergency situations.
"If Deck 3 is inaccessible, it looks like there are safe pockets on Decks 17 and 9," Miles said.
"But avoid Deck 12," Geordi added.
Reg Barclay glanced back and forth between the pair.
"Are… are you sure that—"
Barclay paused and gulped.
"If you aren't comfortable doing this, I'll ask someone else," Geordi assured him.
Barclay was torn.
It was a terrifying climb. H would be alone and unarmed. It would also be a gruelling climb to reach Deck 3. There were Romulans about.
Geordi put his hand on Barclay's shoulder and reiterated that he had no desire to pressure him into a decision.
"I won't lie, it's risky," Miles said.
"But Data needs someone right now. You're the best man we've got. And I think that… I know that Data would trust you, Reg," Geordi said.
All three were privy to Data's personal desire to maintain discretion regarding his body. For Data, matters of Engineering were medical. Geordi had always sought to treat Data's schematics and physical condition with the same level of respect as private medical information.
"I've seen you scale the mast of that ship on the holodeck better than any of us. I know you can do this," Miles said, hoping to inspire courage.
O'Brien's words weren't empty praise—Barclay was natural during their Age of Sail holodeck adventures.
"I'll—"
Barclay paused to clear his throat.
"I'll do it," he said, feigning confidence he didn't feel.
Geordi winked and then offered Barclay a salute. O'Brien playfully punched Barclay on the arm.
"Give 'em hell, Cap," O'Brien said.
Up on Deck 3, Worf located a suitable room in which to detain Subcommander Taris.
While Federation prisoners were rarely restrained outside of transport, Worf kept the magnetic lock cuffs on Taris. He wasn't going to take any chances.
He inspected every inch of the room. It was a rarely used small conference area with no exterior view windows. Worf used an extra set of magnetic cuffs to secure Subcommander Taris to a chair at the table.
"What are you so afraid of?" Taris asked.
Worf ignored her comment and checked to ensure her restraints were locked in place.
"Kill me," Taris said.
There was no malice in her voice. Instead, it was a plea.
"Kill me. Please."
Worf did not respond. He took up a position in the corner by the door where he stood like a statute.
"Klingon, you, of all people, should understand," Taris continued.
Taris could not be exchanged as a prisoner. She could not face the shame of returning defeated.
"And I will never provide the Federation with information. I am useless to you as a prisoner. And… and I know that Starfleet prohibits the execution of prisoners," Taris added solemnly.
In her view, it was a far greater punishment to remain imprisoned.
"I… I would like to have some shred of dignity intact when I face the judgement of the Divines," Taris pleaded.
Worf hesitated.
He was furious about the prospect that Tasha, his best friend, his sister in battle, a member of the House of Mogh, had been compromised by a Romulan parasite.
Worf wanted to exact revenge.
By rights, he had every duty to under Klingon law. The Right of Vengeance applied to any Klingon seeking to avenge the death of a lover, sibling, or compatriot in battle.
And for a moment, Worf was very tempted.
His hand hovered near the blade he kept holstered at his waist when Worf was struck by another thought.
It was only a split second, but he understood.
He felt an odd sense of empathy toward Subcommander Taris and her desire to seek death.
He would have done the same in her position.
"I gave my word to Captain Picard that I would keep you safely detained," Worf replied in a stiff voice.
Taris sneered.
"Have they broken you, Klingon? Is that what your treaty has done? Broken the spirit of the Klingon Empire? Have you become their lapdogs?"
Worf's jaw clenched.
"I chose to serve Starfleet just as you chose to serve your Empire," Worf declared.
He turned and locked eyes with Taris.
"I have no regrets. Do you?" Worf asked in a smooth voice.
Jean-Luc was in his Ready Room on a call with Captain Rixx.
"Long-range sensors indicate the Romulan ships that were in pursuit appear to have changed course. It looks like they're pulling back to Romulus," Rixx advised. "If that armada we detected earlier was indeed Klingons…"
Rixx trailed off and left the rest unsaid.
The Romulan ships may have been recalled in defence of the homeworld.
"Or they know that Admiral Aaron is just waiting for us. We're not a threat to them anymore," Picard grumbled.
Riker interrupted to let Captain Picard know that he and his team were standing by at key locations outside the Jefferies tubes on Deck 3.
They didn't have many people. Riker was limited to those that were already on that level. A team from the Geology department that had been sheltered in a lounge guarded one spot.
Across the deck, two maintenance personnel had phasers aimed at another Jefferies tube hatch.
Riker had even pulled the interns. He was with three Starfleet Academy interns standing watch over the main shaft.
"We're in place, Captain," Riker advised.
Until they could figure out a way to incapacitate the Romulans, it was their only option. They'd tried to release anesthesine gas to immobilise the Romulan strike team that were holed up on Deck 18 only to discover they'd disabled the system.
The anesthesine was a one-shot. That meant they had to reserve it in case they needed to use it in the Jefferies tube system to prevent the Romulans overtaking the Bridge.
"I have teams standing by to beam over and assist once we drop out of warp," Rixx advised.
They were less than an hour from the Neutral Zone—at least, from the Romulan side of the border.
Both ships would still need to traverse the Neutral Zone itself.
It was chosen because it was a desolate area of space. There were few M-class planets. Asteroid fields, ancient mine fields, and debris from the war littered the space between the two powers.
The area was prone to violent plasma storms. There were dozens of identified black hole zones—and many more unknown.
The area was also a hotspot for Breen activity, smugglers, and pirates. The Orion Syndicate used the Neutral Zone to sneak around shipping lanes. Nausicaan strike teams used the area for training exercises.
And it was no secret the Romulans kept their own surveillance despite their treaty obligations.
"Stand by, Number One. Keep me posted if there's any movement," Picard replied.
He was about to turn back to his strategy session with Rixx when a second chime interrupted.
"Sir, Subcommander Taris is requesting to speak to you," Worf said.
Jean-Luc's mouth went thin.
"I have already told her that—"
"Forgive me, Captain. But I think you should listen. She has information about the Romulan transporter interference devices," Worf said.
A pregnant pause followed.
"Should I escort Taris to your Ready Room?" Worf asked.
"No. I'll come to you," Picard replied.
He didn't want Taris anywhere near the Bridge.
Tasha closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing.
It was both uncomfortably warm and tight in the closet. Tasha was desperate for even a hint of fresh air.
Her hands were bound. She couldn't loosen her uniform collar or readjust her position on the floor. It had taken all of Tasha's strength just to move herself into an upright, seated position.
"Hello?" she called out.
There was no response.
A bead of perspiration ran down Tasha's face. There was a foul, metallic taste in her mouth. Her stomach churned.
"Hello? Please… please I need to—"
Tasha paused. She fought the urge to vomit.
She had been in tight spaces before. Tasha wasn't claustrophobic. In fact, she was quite accustomed to climbing around in the confined areas of a starship.
Why is it so damn hot? Tasha thought.
"I need to get out of here!" Tasha hollered through the door.
Just outside, the team standing guard was torn.
"Maybe she is really sick?" one suggested, concerned.
"Or it's a ruse," another said. "Remember what Lieutenant Worf said. She could try anything."
A moment later, there was a loud 'thump.'
The four officers that had been dispatched to guard Lieutenant Yar stared at one another.
"We should help her," the first said, reminding the team there were four of them and that Tasha was both unarmed and restrained.
"We can't open the lock. We need Lieutenant Worf's authorisation code," another pointed out.
A second later, they heard Tasha gagging. The first officer didn't hesitate. She tapped her combadge to place an urgent call.
"Lieutenant Worf! We need you get out here right away! Something's wrong with Lieutenant Yar!"
Captain Picard had just come down from the Bridge and rounded the corner when he discovered the four panicked crew members.
"What's going on?" Picard demanded.
"It's Lieutenant Yar, sir. There's something wrong."
"Or she's trying to escape," insisted crewman Cadwell.
Worf had been explicit—they were not to believe anything Lieutenant Yar said or did no matter how extreme her protests.
"Open the door!" Picard ordered.
"We can't! It's got a Level One Security lock. It requires a senior officer and—"
"Out of the way," Picard barked.
He punched in his access code.
The door hissed open. Tasha, who had collapsed against it, spilled out onto the carpet onto her back. She gagged, choking on her own vomit as she wretched.
Jean-Luc quickly dropped to his knees and rolled Tasha onto her side. Tears clung to her red eyes. Her body twitched. An unholy choking noise escaped from her throat.
It was a gruesome sight. Jean-Luc had never seen Tasha look so helpless. That in and of itself was frightening.
Captain Picard ordered one of the crewmen to fetch water and cold compress from the nearest terminal.
Tasha's body convulsed as she heaved onto the carpet.
Each time she thought it had slowed, the compulsion racked her body again. The stench clung to the air, the remnants of her last meal filled her nostrils. Tasha could feel chunks in the back of her throat—all of which made her want to hurl again.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
A moment later, Tasha groaned and flinched as something cool made contact with the back of her neck. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear Captain Picard's voice. It was oddly soothing.
"It's alright, Tasha," Jean-Luc said.
Crewman Caldwell had been wise enough to bring along a clean flannel from the kit. Jean-Luc used it to gently wipe Tasha's nose and mouth.
Tasha was too dizzy to think clearly. She felt all the blood in her veins had suddenly surged, not unlike when the lift dropped too fast or the jolt right before the body was subjected to heavy gravitational forces.
Tasha was briefly reminded of her first time in a high-G training capsule at Starfleet Academy.
Unable to move, she simply surrendered to it.
"Take her to my Ready Room. Stay with her. Be sure to keep her on her side," Picard ordered.
Caldwell protested.
"But Captain, Lieutenant Worf said—"
"I know what Lieutenant Worf said. But I am your Captain. Now take her to my Ready Room," Jean-Luc barked.
After seeing Tasha safely off, Picard arrived outside of the small conference room where Taris was detained.
He straightened his uniform before stepping inside.
"Captain, I believe you will want to hear this," Worf said.
"Thank you, Mr Worf."
Jean-Luc sat across from Subcommander Taris. It felt oddly symbolic after their own showdown as their ships had hung nose-to-nose hours earlier.
Captain Picard listened patiently as Taris laid out her terms.
"And you will tell us how to override the transport inhibitors if we do this for you?" Picard asked.
"Yes."
Jean-Luc sighed. He wasn't comfortable with the bargain.
Desperate times…
Picard did not like the Romulans using the situation for leverage. He decided to gain a little leverage of his own.
"I need more than that, Subcommander," Picard said.
His eyes narrowed.
"One of my people has been compromised by your parasite. I need to know how to safely remove it," Picard said.
Taris blinked.
"I can't help you," she said coolly.
Picard caught a brief flash of genuine bewilderment in her eyes before Taris recovered. Jean-Luc's eyes narrowed.
"Because you don't know," he realised.
Taris fell silent.
She didn't know. She had no clue what Picard was talking about. She figured that if it was part of a Romulan operation, it was best to say nothing at all.
Subcommander Taris was loyal to a fault to her Empire. She was wise enough to know that she wasn't privy to all the moving parts behind the curtain.
Strategic division was a necessary component of subterfuge and success.
"You have no idea what your government has been up to," Picard went on. "You don't realise that you were ordered to send us back across the Neutral Zone because your Empire has already infiltrated Starfleet Command."
Taris tried to keep her reaction in check—but she couldn't hide her smug sense of satisfaction at that news.
"Then it won't be long before you do face justice, Picard. One way or another," she remarked.
"Perhaps," Picard acknowledged.
He rose from the table and turned for the door.
"Picard? Our agreement?" Taris asked.
Jean-Luc paused.
"Please kill me. Let me die with honour. You… you needn't waste a man guarding me if I'm gone," Taris said in an effort to appeal to Jean-Luc.
She'd been in command of her own ship. She knew they were struggling given the circumstances.
"We will leave you on the nearest M-class planet with an emergency beacon and provisions," Jean-Luc said.
Taris was practically in tears.
"KILL ME!" she roared.
Jean-Luc whipped around.
"No," he said.
"You should. I would if our positions were reversed," Taris said.
Jean-Luc nodded.
"I believe you would. And you may think me weak. But I will not abandon the principles I swore to uphold even in these circumstances—especially in these circumstances," Picard said.
Taris scowled.
"Then I won't help you," she vowed.
"Then you will either rot in a Federation prison or, more likely, you will be returned to Empire to face disgrace," Picard shot back.
Taris blanched.
She couldn't return.
Taris's resolve faltered. Picard could see she was distressed.
"I will amend my offer. I will drop you at the nearest M-class planet with an emergency beacon and provisions and I will return the weapons we confiscated from you," Picard said.
Taris nodded.
"As for what you do from there—"
Picard paused and swallowed his reservations about the situation.
"I will leave that decision to you," Picard concluded.
A bead of perspiration ran down Will Riker's spine. His lower back was nearly shot. His movements were stiff. He desperately needed to stretch—but he couldn't abandon his post.
Will closed his eyes and took a breath.
If they managed to survive, Riker was going to need a stiff drink, a steroid hypospray for his back, and six months to sleep it off.
A sudden noise from the Jefferies tube shook Riker from his thoughts.
"What was that?" asked Acting Ensign Hughes.
Riker gestured for them all to stay quiet. He tightened his grip on his phaser.
Thump. Clang.
Someone was climbing the ladder.
Riker signalled for two of the interns to take up positions on opposite sides. He instructed the third to be ready to open the hatch.
Thump. Clang. Clang.
"Now!" Riker ordered.
Hughes pulled open the hatch. Riker yanked out the person inside and threw them down on the carpet where the two interns had their phasers aimed.
Riker glanced down in the tube to clear the area. He was surprised to find no strike party waiting.
A muffled cry from the carpet followed.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"
Riker whipped around.
"Hold your fire!" he hollered.
Riker blinked in surprise as he stared at the figure on the ground.
"Barclay?"
Lieutenant Barclay kept his hands in the air. He was still wearing his breather. He had a toolkit slung over his shoulder which explained the clanging noise they'd heard hitting the ladder.
Riker had presumed it was Romulan boots.
Will offered Barclay his hand and helped pull the man to his feet. Reg was shaken from his surprise greeting and exhausted from the climb.
"What are you doing here?" Riker asked.
"L-L-Lieutenant La Forge sent me to check on Data," Barclay stammered.
"Right." Riker nodded.
He'd been present in the Ready Room when Geordi had made his request. Riker too had been disturbed by Data's injuries.
"Take care of him," Riker said as he sent Barclay on his way.
Deanna wasn't sure how long she had been in sondormada.
She drifted somewhere between sleep and consciousness as she slowly became aware of her body and mind again.
Sondormada was a state of consciousness unique to the Betazoid mind. The body had a way of inducing it automatically whenever secretions of preclaseptamin, a Betazoid neurotransmitter, reached dangerous levels.
In essence, the body went dormant to protect itself.
In sondormada, the Betazoid mind wasn't entirely offline. It could best be described as a dreamlike state where the mind wandered, latching on to the simplest of functions in the near vicinity to help establish a basic rhythm—just enough to keep the lights on without overloading the mind.
That could be the beep of a Sickbay monitoring device.
The gentle hum of the ship's computer.
Or a heartbeat.
After hours of intense mental agony, Deanna's body had finally slipped into sondormada.
Deanna felt pleasantly warm. It was like she had just slipped into a hot bath within one of her favourite western paperbacks.
She didn't have to worry about the ship or her appointment calendar.
There was nothing she needed in that moment. All her worries melted away, enveloped in a comfortable embrace. Deanna couldn't quite feel it, but she could sense it was there all the same.
Thump, thump… thump, thump… thump, thump.
Measured.
Steady.
Synchronous.
Thump, thump… thump, thump…
It echoed in Deanna's mind.
She felt it in her bones.
Thump, thump… thump, thump…
Without moving a muscle, Deanna felt as she had stretched and then curled up, snug and cosy without a care in the world.
Deanna let herself slip away into that feeling.
Thump, thump... thump, thump… thump, thump…
The door to Captain Picard's private quarters slid open. Lieutenant Aarden stepped inside.
"How are you doing?" asked Raffi.
She was still at Data's side. Raffi wasn't sure what she could do for him, but she wanted Data to know he wasn't alone.
"I'm alright given everything," Aarden replied.
Captain Picard's quarters had quickly begun to fill.
Deanna was lying on the Captain's sofa. Less than a metre away, two crewmen had put Tasha down on the Captain's reclining chair.
Lieutenant Aarden was in desperate need of a rest. She needed to sit down somewhere that wasn't a duty chair and she needed to hydrate.
"Loo?" Aarden asked
Raffi pointed down the corridor.
Aarden waddled off.
After finally relieving her bladder, Aarden asked if she could help.
"I'm not sure," Raffi answered honestly.
Deanna was in some kind of state. Riker had advised to keep the room dark and let her rest.
Tasha was dizzy and dehydrated. In the last twelve hours, she'd been trapped on the turbolift, stuck in Sickbay, undertaken an exhaustive climb on the Jefferies tube, and been forced to kneel for a long time as one of Logan's hostages.
A severe headache made it difficult to communicate.
Tasha was barely hanging in there.
Worst of all, no one knew why she kept dry heaving.
"Bring back memories?" Raffi teased.
It was enough to earn a smile from Lieutenant Aarden. She'd had a nightmare first trimester—something that was well-known on the Yamato.
"Ugh. Don't remind me," Aarden replied as she covered her nose.
She was still highly sensitive to smells.
"I swear I can smell moonbeams," Aarden added.
Aarden's gaze fell on the replicator.
"Is it working again?" Aarden asked.
Raffi nodded.
"Have you tried a hydro tablet?" Aarden inquired.
Raffi shook her head in the negative.
Tasha had not been able to sip any water offered to her. She couldn't even keep her head up. There was a cold compress across the nape of her neck. It helped treat the headache, but not the dehydration causing it.
Hydro tablets were small, dissolvable tablets that helped most humanoids in cases of dehydration. They weren't dangerous and had no side effects and could be readily accessed through the replicator without the need to visit Sickbay.
They were commonly used by folks that suffered migraines and were popular with athletes, officers in physically demanding positions, or for hangovers.
And pregnancies.
"These were a lifesaver during my first trimester," Aarden said as she ordered one up.
They dissolved under the tongue, making them easy to take.
"Should we?" Raffi questioned.
"We both saw what Geirson was like. It wasn't like this," Aarden countered, citing their colleague that had been overtaken by the parasite.
Geirson had been in control. He was agitated. Powerful.
Tasha couldn't even sit up. She was peaky. Sweating. Practically lifeless save for occasionally gagging.
"I'm not a medic, but I don't see how a hydro tablet could hurt," Aarden said.
"Yeah," Raffi agreed.
Out on the Bridge, Captain Picard was on an audio channel with Geordi.
"And you're sure there's no chance this will trigger some… unforeseen action?" Picard inquired.
"I don't think so, Captain," Geordi answered.
Captain Picard wasn't ready to entirely trust Subcommander Taris.
In exchange for the opportunity to end her own life, Taris had offered Jean-Luc the transponder code to override the Romulan transport inhibitors worn by the strike teams.
Picard feared they might really trigger a detonation or some other dangerous device.
"We've been trying to break the code for some time, Captain. Most of those devices are designed to trigger if you input the wrong signal or tamper with it," Geordi explained.
He was fairly confident Taris's information could be trusted—at least when it came to the transponder.
She had requested Picard kill her crew too, assuring him that it was what they would want.
Jean-Luc wasn't prepared to agree to that measure. Instead, he would offer them the same choice as Taris.
"Alright, Mr La Forge. I want you to beam the Romulans to Brig. Ensure you fill those cells with anesthesine and beam out their equipment," Picard ordered.
He couldn't risk the Romulans trying to break out or shoot up the place.
There was a pause on the channel.
"Done and done," Geordi replied a moment later.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Jean-Luc felt his jaw unclench.
A little.
Jean-Luc straightened his posture and tapped the ship-wide communications channel to address the crew.
"This is Captain Picard. I know that right now you are probably confused, frightened, or angry—and rightfully so," he acknowledged.
He informed the ship that they were working to restore all systems.
"For your safety and the safety of all on board, I must ask you to remain sheltered in place. Teams have been dispatched to clear all sections, but I must ask for your patience as we conduct a deck-by-deck sweep," Picard said.
It would take time for Medical and Security staff to clear the ship. They would have to conduct a scan of every person on board to ensure no one else had been overtaken by the parasite.
"I know that you have been forced to endure restrictions on your travel and communications, which you have accepted with the dignity I have come to expect, but do not deserve, from such a fine crew," Picard continued.
Jean-Luc paused. He felt his words did little to convey his gratitude.
"You have demonstrated grace under pressure for which I thank you. And I want to assure you that our situation is nearly at an end," Picard said. "But I must ask you to hold on a little longer."
He wasn't ready to disclose everything. Not yet—not until he confirmed a plan to get the crew to safety.
"There will be a detailed, ship-wide briefing in four hours. Picard out," Picard said.
With that, Jean-Luc turned to Lieutenant Jae.
"Have we reestablished contact with Deck 12?" Picard asked.
"Aye, sir. Doctor Crusher is standing by," Jae informed him.
Picard wanted to melt to the floor and weep with relief. He settled for opening a private channel.
"Doctor?"
"Captain."
"I'm going to have Lieutenant La Forge reactivate one of the turbolifts. I need you to get up to the Bridge. Now," Picard said.
An alert beeped on the helm.
"Captain, we're approaching the border," Hawk advised.
"Good. Notify the Thomas Paine. Captain Rixx has teams standing by and they have offered to take some of our wounded," Picard said.
Beverly Crusher shot a dirty look over her shoulder at the three men standing in the doorway.
Captain Picard, Commander Riker, and Worf knew they were in deep trouble. They could feel the anger radiating off Doctor Crusher under her gaze.
"She's dehydrated," Beverly said.
She clicked her medical kit closed harder than intended.
"Severely dehydrated. If Lieutenant Aarden hadn't thought to administer a hydro tablet, Tasha might have—"
"Doctor, we thought she was compromised," Picard interjected. "We called you here as soon as we could."
He knew Worf and Riker already felt terrible for Tasha's imprisonment.
Beverly's bluster faded.
"I didn't clear her for duty. I should never have let her go," Beverly said.
Tasha had already been severely dehydrated during Beverly's previous exam. Coupled with the fatigue and heightened levels of stress, Beverly was impressed Tasha hadn't collapsed sooner.
"You only did what you thought was best. We all were doing what we thought was best," Picard said.
He knew the whole crew had taken their mistakes hard. It had been a trying day and Jean-Luc wanted them to understand he was incredibly proud of the way they'd handled themselves.
"And Deanna?" Will asked.
Beverly sighed.
"Best as I can tell, she's in sondormada. It's a Betazoid state of dormancy," Beverly explained. "I don't think she's in any immediate danger. I want to conduct a more thorough neural scan as soon as possible. And I've asked Ensign Vel to report here."
Vel was a Betazoid medical technician. Beverly was hoping she could provide additional information about Deanna's condition.
Beverly had never encountered it before. She had only read about it in medical texts.
"It can last for hours or days. Sometimes longer," Beverly advised.
She also made an unusual request.
"For now, I'd like to keep them here. There's no room in Sickbay. Our secondary triage site is already overflowing," Beverly said.
Jean-Luc understood.
"And Data?" Picard inquired about their third patient.
Barclay was at Data's side with his diagnostic tool in hand. He'd followed Geordi's instructions to the letter.
Data was already deactivated. That meant Barclay just had to check each system to ensure there was no trace of the Iconian virus.
"His positronic matrix shows no sign of the Iconian code. But—"
Barclay paused.
"Data's programming is very complex," Barclay said.
Even Geordi felt it was far beyond his own understanding. There were days he felt like a child again, ripping apart his first radio to see how it worked on the inside.
"I really think Geordi should give Data a once-over before we try to reactivate him," Barclay said.
He wasn't just concerned about his own reputation as a diagnostic engineer—Barclay knew that Data's very existence hung in the balance.
"I… I ran my scans against Data's last scans. The ones that Lieutenant La Forge took a few months ago. There looks to be a segment of his memory engrams that have been wiped clean," Barclay explained.
It was a small segment, infinitesimal compared the sum of Data's memory, but Barclay didn't feel right ruling it out.
Not until he was certain.
"It could be a normal part of Data's operating system. I just don't know, sir. And I don't want to take the risk," Barclay acknowledged.
Jean-Luc was convinced.
"Alright. Thank you, Mr Barclay. You may return to Engineering."
Captain Picard turned his attention to Lieutenant Aarden.
"I'd like you to go with Doctor Crusher and tell her everything you can about your experience with Geirson and the parasite," Picard said.
"And my husband? The survivors?" Aarden inquired.
She had patiently waited for any news of her husband, Michael.
"We managed to beam some people off the Yamato before her destruction. But I am sorry, I don't have names yet," Picard said.
Truly, he felt awful that he could not give her more information.
"Our teams are working on that now. As soon as we can, I will inform you personally," Picard said.
"Captain, with your permission I would like to start there," Worf offered.
He explained that if there was a parasite, it may have originated or come from the crew they beamed over.
"And I promised Lieutenant Aarden that I would help her search for her spouse," Worf said.
Jean-Luc was in agreement. It was as good a place to start as any.
"Beverly, we need to check every person on this ship—every person—for the parasite," Picard said.
Beverly nodded.
It was a tall order. She was already overwhelmed with the wounded and down a Doctor. Selar's injuries were serious enough that she remained sedated.
"With your permission, Captain, I would like to inform Doctors Finnigan and Halor of the situation. And some of the nursing staff," Beverly requested.
It was not a light ask.
"I know this is confidential, but I need the staffing," Beverly explained.
Picard nodded slowly.
"Soon enough they'll find out. Tell who you need. For now," Picard agreed.
Finally, Jean-Luc turned to Commander Riker.
"Begin your search," Picard ordered. "And Number One?"
Riker stopped just shy of the door.
"Please notify Rachel Cohn that I would like to speak with her in my Ready Room at her earliest convenience," Picard said.
"Captain?" Riker asked.
"Soon enough the ship will know. And she's owed an explanation first," Picard said.
"What about Lieutenant Commander Logan?" Riker inquired.
He was still in custody in the loo.
"Truthfully, I'm not sure what to do with him yet," Picard admitted.
Logan had been a trusted officer and the Night Watch Commander.
"For now, I think I'd like to leave him to cool his heels for a while yet," Picard said.
Riker agreed and set off to rendezvous with Lieutenant Ford.
"Can I help?" Raffi offered.
Jean-Luc gestured for Lieutenant Musiker to sit down in his Ready Room. He queued up his computer and signalled to open a channel.
"I would like you to speak with Captain Rixx from the Thomas Paine. You can trust him. Please, tell him what you know about Captain Varley, these secret orders, and what you witnessed," Picard instructed.
On her way down to Sickbay, Beverly tapped her communicator.
"Wesley? Wesley, please respond."
Silence followed.
"Computer, what is the location of Ensign Crusher?" Beverly asked.
"Ensign Crusher is on Deck 8. Room 2133," the computer answered.
The Crusher family quarters.
Why isn't he responding? Beverly thought.
Communications were restored. There had been no Romulans on Deck 8. Beverly's concern grew with each passing second of silence.
"Your husband?" Aarden asked.
"My son," Beverly replied.
Geordi was clearly agitated when he arrived on the Bridge. He'd been worried about Data ever since his return from Iconia.
That anxiety had only been amplified when Barclay informed Geordi of his findings.
"Where is he?" Geordi demanded.
"In here," Picard said, pointing to his Ready Room.
Geordi didn't wait for the Captain. He rushed in and immediately unlatched Data's cranial access panel.
Captain Picard watched with apprehension.
"Lieutenant Barclay advised it was only a tiny portion of one of his memory engrams that appeared to be missing data," Picard said, hoping to offer Geordi a glimmer of hope.
Geordi frowned.
"Captain, what may only be a small part of Data's memory engram could represent years of information. It could be an entire critical system in Data's functioning," Geordi described.
Jean-Luc hadn't considered that.
"What are you saying?"
"I don't know until I can get in there and take a more detailed look," Geordi said as he connected his diagnostic tablet to the port in Data's cranium.
Geordi reattuned the device and began a systematic scan of Data's neural net.
"This is going to take some time," Geordi advised.
An hour later, the Enterprise was in orbit around the icy moon of a desolate planet in the Neutral Zone.
The Thomas Paine was nearby, having taken a position behind another moon so as to avoid making themselves too easy a target.
A number of wounded personnel had been transferred over to the Thomas Paine, alleviating some of the strain in Sickbay and the secondary triage location.
Teams had arrived to aid in the search and medical scans.
The children from the Yamato had been escorted down to comfortable guest quarters to await a medical exam and, much to Riker's relief, Lieutenant Solis had been sent back to the Security office to resume her regular duties.
Worf and his team had catalogued the survivors from the Yamato and they were pleased they could reunite at least one family.
"This way," Worf said as he led his charge to the guest quarters on Deck 5.
Worf clicked the chime and then announced he was going to enter.
Lieutenant Aarden was standing near the table.
A glass of juice slipped from her hands when the door slid open.
"Mi-Michael?"
Her voice cracked.
Michael Aaden stepped into the darkened room. He fell to his knees in front of his wife and hugged her legs.
"I n-never thought I'd s-s-see you again," he sobbed.
Lieutenant Aarden was speechless. She clutched the back of his hair, still in disbelief that her husband was truly there.
"I will leave you to it," Worf said with a small nod.
"Thank you," Lieutenant Aarden whispered.
Worf wanted to be happy.
But the reunification of the Aarden family was a victory dimmed by the knowledge that dozens of children waiting on the deck above were grieving the loss of their own families.