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Fic: Fair Trade part 4
Title: Fair Trade part 4 (yes, I'm all spammy tonight, sorry!)
Author: me!
Rating:PG-13, technobabble, blood, angst
Notes: Remember that clip I was obsessed with? The one with Beverly's crazy hat? Yes, well... Link to TNG clip
Betaing & thanks:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
miriel helped me with the idea and gave me happy thoughts when I got stuck. **lanna_kitty** the hallowed and loved, betaed this like there was nothing else going on in her crazy life. She helped with characters, plot, grammar...everything!!! She rocks. (and has a needy kitten)
Summary: When Captain Picard disappears on a shore leave on a nonaligned world, the away team goes under cover to try and find him. Worf uses an unorthodox cover story and it spirals out of control. Crusher/Picard with significant Riker/Troi leanings. (yes, I wrote another damn babyfic...)
part one || part two || part three
Being imprisoned was only the latest part of a very odd shore leave, Jean-Luc thought to himself as he straightened his back against the wall. He’d simply intended to take a look at the ruins north of this city. It was purportedly the ruins of some kind of ancient Vulcan colony, long deserted and mostly forgotten, but the Enterprise had been nearby and he’d been unable to resist the chance to take a look.
Baran and his band of smugglers had appeared on the fifth day. Only luck and the fact that he wasn’t wearing his communicator had prevented him from being killed on sight. Baran had murdered his science officer. Though the smuggler captain immediately hated Jean-Luc’s alter-ego Galen, he’d stayed alive because he was useful.
Lifting the metal cup of water to his mouth, Jean-Luc drank the weak tea that arrived with his bread, squash and cheese lunch with a grimace. It tasted faintly of wet grain instead of real tea but that flavor was better than the primitive, chemically purified taste of the water. The squash was bright green and overcooked. The cheese was grey and shot with stripes of pink but it was the most palatable.
After his processing and medical examination, he was shown to a small, box-like cell. Feeling like a main character from one of his favorite old Earth novels, he’d been trying to make the best of things. Practicing tai’chi and the handful of mok’bara moves he’d learned from Worf, kept him busy for a few hours but his mind wasn’t in it.
In this cell, his mind was the traitor that kept him from doing anything useful. He’d expected his crew to look for them. It would be difficult, now that he had Baran’s control device in his neck, for any kind of rescue if the smuggler was still free. He’d been offered the opportunity to watch the device kill Baran’s science officer immediately after they’d landed. Jean-Luc had personally felt the torturous burning of the plasma energy set his veins on fire. The reptilian police force had taken the control device from Baran, but they seemed to have no plans to remove his implant.
Riker and his team were looking for him. Were he in the position of his number one, he’d certainly risk his own life to find his officer. He had no doubt his staff would volunteer their lives for him as well. He’d been with the smugglers how long? Eight, nine days? It hadn’t taken long for them to find him, especially considering how the might of the Enterprise would be hampered in nonaligned space.
Their attempt to buy him from Baran was almost as impressive as their costumes. He’d barely recognized Worf and Deanna from across the room yesterday and he’d been too far back to know what points Deanna was using to negotiate. According to T’Lera’s superior hearing, it had something to do with the human woman, Beverly, being ill. That seemed indeed to be the case when Beverly had disappeared from the negotiations, apparently under the ruse of being nauseated.
Whatever ingenious plan his crew had come up with, he was unfortunately not going to get to find out what it was. He knew a smattering of facts about the Suuka from diplomatic seminars and scattered briefings. Their legal system was strict and incredibly quick to impose capital punishment, however it was not entirely unreasonable. Will had Data, Deanna and Starfleet records to assist him. He would have to trust them to get him out.
From what he knew of Suukan law, he’d have one hearing to determine his worth, then their decision would be final. He was beginning to wonder how that trial would go when one of the reptilian guards appeared outside of the metal door keeping him in his cell. The guard pressed a low-pitched chime once out of some kind of respect before she opened the simple grey door. “Galen, prisoner of the Suuka, you have a visitor. Do you wish to receive her?”
Getting to his feet, he straightened his brown leather tunic prison out of habit. “Yes,” he answered simply.
“You have ten minutes,” the guard replied calmly. “You will be watched but not listened to. I will return to retrieve her. If you harm her, you will be killed.”
“Simple enough,” Jean-Luc murmured. Crossing his arms over his chest, he brought his hand to his chin and paced the two meters his cell. He was looking out the window, expecting to hear Deanna’s voice before he turned back towards the door as it opened.
“Jean-Luc!” The voice turned his name into a gasp. His ears almost burned at the sound of the very familiar voice. “Jean-Luc, are you all right?”
Whipping around in surprise, the first thing he saw was Beverly’s hand gripping the door frame with white knuckles. Her hair was several shades darker and pulled harshly back in a way that made her skin look terribly pale. Her clothing was unfamiliar, some kind of green civilian jumpsuit and copper overcoat, but she was Beverly Crusher.
Licking her lips as she took a step into his cell, he saw her waver slightly before she reached the wall of his cell to steady her.
“Beverly,” he began with her name and felt almost foolish staring at her the way he was. “I thought you’d be Deanna.”
“I almost wish I was,” she replied mysteriously. She licked her lips again and seemed to struggling against something. Her skin was naturally pale, but today it seemed unhealthily so, and her lips were nearly as devoid of color. The dark circles under her eyes were pronounced and evoked a rush of sympathy. It was obvious to him that she had slept little, perhaps even for the last several days.
Indicating the small, hard bed with his hand, he tried to sit her down. “Please,” he begged her and extended his hand towards hers when she didn’t move. “Doctor, Beverly, are you all right?”
“I just asked you Captain,” she teased him without taking a step towards the bed.
“I assure you I am uninjured,” he promised her quickly. “Please, sit.” Taking the initiative and grabbing her hand across the bed, he tugged gently and to his surprise nearly pulled her the last fraction of a meter to the bed. Grasping her other arm by the elbow, he managed to guide her, however ungracefully, down to the bed. Beverly nearly collapsed down to it and only bracing himself on the wall prevented him from falling on top of her before he regained his balance.
“Sorry, didn’t expect it to get this bad.” Her voice was almost a whisper and it seemed to take a great act of will to force her eyes back open. “I’m glad you’re well. It is very good to see you.”
“Beverly!” he chided firmly as he crouched down to look up at her. “What’s happened to you? Are you having some kind of allergic reaction to that gas they used yesterday? Why did Will let you remain on the mission if you-”
“-If I can barely keep myself on my feet?” she finished for him wryly. Her blue eyes were fixed on his face but there were no answers in them, only a new and almost frightening kind of desperation. “I’m afraid my presence is necessary, if potentially unwise.”
“Potentially unwise?” he repeated in disgust. “Your explanation had better be a hell of a lot better than that.”
“Yes, sir,” she responded reflexively with a maddening smile. “My apologies Captain. How would you like me to make my report?”
“Quickly, Doctor,” he snapped as he got back to his feet and resumed pacing just to have something to do other than glare at her.
Beverly’s head dropped back against the wall, as if to keep it from spinning. She swallowed with difficulty before she spoke. “Will’s leading Deanna, Worf and I on a rescue mission. Deanna was nearly successful in our attempt to buy you from Baran, then you were taken prisoner. We have altered the plan accordingly and believe we can have you released this evening, when the Suuka hear your case, sir.”
Pausing for what he thought was only a moment, she groaned softly and he whirled around in time to watch her head drop down into her hands. Taking a step towards her, he narrowly stopped himself from dragging her up and decided that observation might give him more answers.
When she regained her equilibrium, she finished speaking with her head down. “The runabout Mendel is waiting for us in orbit. Commander Data took the Enterprise on an escort mission near the Badlands. We will rendezvous with him there once we have recovered you, sir.” Even finishing her report seemed to be a great effort and her sigh at the end was genuinely exhausted.
Regretting his frustration, Jean-Luc shoved it down. His stomach knotted in hot concern and the flush of his sympathy ran up his neck uncomfortably. “Beverly,” he began as gently as he could. “What’s happened to you?” She didn't answer immediately and he had to bite his lip to keep from badgering her. When he reached for her cheek to draw her attention, he found it covered in sweat. Pulling his hand down, she held it in her lap.
"I'm sorry," she murmured again before she lifted her head. Now her skin was unnaturally flushed pink instead of pale. "I thought they’d passed. They've been getting less frequent. Must've stood up too long when the guards searched me."
“What’s wrong with you?” he probed carefully. Beverly was still having some trouble holding up her head, so he caught her chin and steadied it. Her eyes were bright but unfocused and she brought her hands to his shoulders. “Some kind of illness or fever?”
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, searching for support. “I’m suffering side effects,” she answered with frustration harshening her voice. “My blood pressure’s dropping at random and I keep getting hit with these damn hot flashes. I expected the dizziness, but the hot flashes should have stopped by now.”
Running his thumb along her chin, he tried to smile at her. “I don’t know much about medicine,” he reminded her with a shrug. “I nearly failed first aid at the Academy because my instructor thought I lacked empathy for my patients. I’m not going to be able to guess. Beverly, I need you to tell me.”
Her head dropped to his shoulder and her left hand slid down his back. He could feel the sweat on her forehead as it touched his neck and the unsteadiness of her hand against his spine. “I’m afraid,” she sighed. After a moment of hesitation, he wrapped his arms closer around her and leaned back against the wall.
Holding her was not a new experience, but she’d been closer lately, more affectionate. They’d danced around each other since she’d returned to the Enterprise and for the last few years something had been changing. They’d be growing closer and the insubstantial music that guided them had been slowing in response. Perhaps this was the next phase, something untried.
His voice seemed to belong to someone else as he asked, “Have you been exposed to something dangerous?” Speaking was too difficult for her and she let the question hang unanswered. “Beverly, you are one of the bravest people I know, just what are you afraid of?”
“I only have a few minutes left,” she sighed and seemed to steel herself from within. “We needed to find something. Some way to keep you safe.” Lifting her head slightly as if she was trying it out, she dropped it to his shoulder again. “Worf was just trying to get information. It spiraled and we just kept lying. Getting in deeper each time we talked to the smugglers until we finally ran into the Suuka. We couldn’t lie anymore.”
Holding her shoulders, he tried to imagine what she was possibly having trouble saying. “They seem to have that affect on most people,” Jean-Luc agreed dryly. “Beverly, you may just need to trust that whatever you have to tell me is something our relationship, whatever it may be, can survive.” He could feel the excessive heat of her body through his clothing and the slow movement of her chest beneath his arms.
Her voice was barely audible. “I just wanted to bring you home. I couldn't-I can’t lose you.”
“I assure you,” he replied with a touch of irony as he looked around the dull walls of his cell. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She kept her head down, still against his shoulder. “I’m pregnant,” she announced simply. “ The fetus has experienced nearly three months of development. My symptoms are a result of the procedure I had to use to create that time.”
Lifting her head with his hands, he brought her eyes level with his. He could find no trace of dementia or falsehood, only a quiet desperation that gnawed at his heart. “Beverly?”
“You’re the father.”
Jolting away from her in surprise, he forgot how unsteady she was. Beverly pulled herself up to a sitting position on her own, bracing her feet against the bed and hugging her knees to her chest.
“That’s impossible,” he snapped viciously. “And I don’t need to tell you that.” Anger flowed up from an unknown place in his psyche, blasting through his mind like a wildfire. His cell wasn’t big enough to pace, not with the inferno of thought blackening his mind. Looking everywhere but her, he finally stopped, arms stiffly at his sides as he tried to reign in his heart.
“When I left the Enterprise two weeks ago you were in perfect health and certainly not carrying my child. Even if it were somehow within the capabilities of medical science for a pregnancy to progress at the speed you suggest, using my DNA against my will to create a child is completely-”
“Unforgivable?” she asked as she stared past him at the bare floor. Taking a deep breath, she slowly started to stand. Bringing her feet back to the floor was an astonishing act of will and with one hand on the wall, Beverly stared him down. Part of her unnaturally dark hair was plastered to her forehead with drying sweat, but the pink had completely left her cheeks. “Jean-Luc, in one half hour the Suuka will question you. Make whatever argument you wish but Deanna, Will and I are going to risk our lives to bring you home because we need you. So will this child.”
Her icy stare was nearly enough to stop the stinging fire of betrayal. Something was beneath his anger and facing that was almost more terrifying than anything he’d known. Children mystified, frightened and filled him with the same kind of wonder as a black hole. As Wesley and numerous others had demonstrated, the potential to change the universe was nearly as powerful. He didn’t dislike or fear them as he once had.
If he’d been asked to choose one woman in the galaxy to share that experience with, it went without saying that Beverly was first in his heart. Without being asked his permission or being involved in the conception, he now had a responsibility to a being that would quite probably last the rest of his life.
There wasn’t a way to say that, at least, none that he knew. Beverly’s gaze was still on him but it was softening. No matter what happened, she was still his best friend.
“I fear I lack the time to respond properly,” he began apologetically with a tug on his tunic. “Please understand that my emotional response at this moment is without the kind of reflection this situation most urgently requires.” Shaking his head quickly, he brought a hand to the back of his head and tried to force everything into perspective. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned it to you yet, but I’ve recently started to believe that having a child is an experience I do wish to have.”
The same low pitched chime from before announced the return of the reptilian guard.
Beverly’s smile was gentle and there was a peace in it he found incredibly appealing. “Be careful what you wish for,” she murmured.
Jean-Luc could see the green ridges of the guard through the tiny window in the door. “Indeed,” he replied ruefully while taking a step towards her.
“It seems our time is up,” Beverly reminded him as the door started to open. It happened in an instant and, though he had no idea she was currently capable of moving that quickly, he should have known better than to underestimate her. In contrast to the way her skin had felt minutes ago, her lips were cool against the left side of his mouth. It wasn’t a passionate, Shakespearean kiss, but it was definitely something more than friendly.
Pleasure mixed with the myriad other emotions overwhelming his heart, reminding him that the human experience was richly varied as the stars themselves. Perhaps also as surprising he mused as he watched her from the door of his cell until she was long out of sight.
The Suukan court was the darkest she’d ever seen because the reptilian race relied little on visible light as part of their sight. In the semidarkness, Deanna tried to relax in her seat as she watched Will step up the Suukan witness stand. The seat in the middle of the court was lower than the rest, giving it an arena-like feel with a knot of darkness in the center. The lighting around it was weakest or all, giving the witness the effect of testifying in the dark to a circle of silhouettes.
The three Suukan jurors were seated in a semicircle along the back of the room. According to Worf, the thermal abilities they relied on functioned just as well in near darkness as they would in daylight. As the purported leader, Deanna had gone first.
The questions posed her had been simple enough. She’d identified Will as her beloved and avoiding the direct use of the word husband had kept her on the side of the truth. It was true that Worf had been her protector for the last seven years and that Beverly had seen to her needs medically for most of that time. It was true that Beverly outranked her, and was no subordinate servant, but language allowed for many nuances.
“Human male,” the bailiff began the ritual swearing in. “Do you understand and accept that all testimony you give, all words that you say, must be true, under pain of immediate death?”
“I do,” Will replied with a quick nod of his head.
The central juror acknowledged him and began his line of questioning. “Please begin by affirming your relationship to the female, Deanna.”
“Deanna is my imzadi,” Will explained to the court. She could feel his confidence and the underlying fear of failing his captain, but he was projecting quiet acceptance of the proceedings, as befitted the husband of a Betazoid trader. “For the last ten years, she has been beloved of my heart. I would follow her anywhere.”
One of the jurors tilted his head to the left, the motion was what passed for a nod among the Suuka and Deanna realized the fact of matter was now closed. On this planet, Will was her husband.
“And your sister?” the central juror continued.
“Beverly is intelligent, beautiful and deeply important to me. I love her as my sister. As long as it is in my power, I will never let anything unseemly befall her,” Will testified. Deanna could feel his thoughts change. He was calling up his fears and letting them play over his face as if he was trying to suppress them.
“You are afraid for her?”
Will nodded quickly and shifted as if his chair had suddenly become uncomfortable. “It is my fear that she loves this man,” he explained. Pointing at the captain, he brought up only his concern for Beverly. The intensity of that emotion only reinforced how ill Beverly must have been. She’d been avoiding Deanna and though it pained her to admit it, Deanna had been allowing her to do so.
There were rare moments when Deanna’s training and instincts both failed her but whenever she touched Beverly’s mind she immediately wanted to pull away. Even now, Beverly’s emotions pulsed in the background noise of the room like a vein bleeding itself dry. She’d seen the captain, alone as she had wished and Deanna had been too close. The rage and betrayal the captain felt had washed over her like a phaser blast. The captain’s thoughts were too intense and unfocused to be kept out of her head. Beverly’s thoughts were only now slowly stabilizing, as if they’d been struck by a hurricane that was starting to ease.
Wrapping herself in the comfortingly familiar space of Will’s mind had been the safest way to stay grounded. Usually it was something he only noticed in a vague sense and over the years, he’d grown comfortable with it. Like the couch in his quarters, it seemed his mind was open to her any time.
Even now in court, Deanna needed to depend on the relative safety of his thoughts. The minds of the jurors were rational, calm, and even bored. The case of a smuggler was of little importance to them. He was not known to be a killer, and she sensed the juror on the left was already more than happy to release Galen to her custody and be done with the matter.
“He claims to be unprepared to parent a child,” Will continued. “I don’t think any male of my species ever feels they are ready for that responsibility. I can’t control his actions but I believe my sister needs him to help her through this. As someone who loves her, I believe she would suffer greatly in his absence.”
“What of the smuggler?” The third juror asked. “What do you know of this man?”
“In a way, very little,” Will answered truthfully. Deanna could feel his concentration strengthen, though none of it was in his face. Wondering if his poker face stood up as well to the Suuka as it would to a human, she tried to project how proud she was of him. “He is a man who guards his heart tightly. What I know of his heart, I know from my sister and however foolishly, she loves him.”
Beverly’s emotions spiked and Deanna knew she needed to know why. The intensity of Beverly’s darkness while the captain had been missing was only rivaled by Will’s self-loathing and feeling of failure. Jean-Luc Picard was the father figure Will had lacked most of his life. Failing him was unacceptable and Will’s mind had grown dark. His position as acting captain had made him her first responsibility and she’d hadn’t had time to see to everyone.
Perhaps part of this was her fault, maybe if she had reached out to Beverly earlier, been conscious of her emptiness before she’d gone to such drastic steps. What had she been doing their last night on the Enterprise where the creation of a new life had missed her notice? Deanna knew it was foolish to hold herself responsible for the actions of the crew while she was sleeping, she couldn’t possibly be everywhere at once. That knowledge did nothing to assuage her guilt because Beverly was her friend. Something as intense as the mental anguish that must have come before the conception of this child should have been something she could read.
Maybe she hadn’t realized it because even Beverly didn’t know what she was feeling. Unfocused emotions were the most difficult to read. Her feelings for the captain had been buried so long they were nearly out of control. Like searching a neglected garden, it was difficult to identify which flowers had the intoxicating smell. In Beverly’s mind, attraction, friendship, pain and guilt had to coexist. Losing the captain had been more than her psyche was able to bear. The child within her had been the only way Beverly could live with herself. Caring for new life, life that was part of the captain, had been the only way she had to keep going.
Will’s spike in emotion brought Deanna back from Beverly’s thoughts. Beyond his stress, Will was amused. The juror’s last question had struck a pleasant nerve. “I can promise my loyalty. My sister will have the complete support of my beloved and I. Should this man decide to own up to his responsibility, he will have my full support as well. I believe he has the potential to be an excellent father.”
The bailiff grabbed Will’s shoulder and dismissed him by sending him back to his seat next to Deanna. Taking his hand back to her lap wasn’t part of their performance, but it calmed them both. Beverly fidgeted in her seat, expecting to be called next. Instead, the reptilian bailiff nudged the captain down into the center of the darkened room.
The jurors apparently did not need to speak to each other to understand their states of mind and merely spent a moment engaging each other’s eyes, as if participating in some kind of three-way staring contest. As someone who had grown up with silent communication, Deanna was the least bothered. The captain’s mind was actively nervous, mostly for his crew’s ability to escape but the knot at the center was about Beverly. Something old and deeply engrained in his consciousness was starting to exert itself.
The central juror began Picard’s questioning. “How long have you known the human female, Beverly?”
“Over twenty years,” he replied. His eyes were locked on Beverly’s dark silhouette and his nervousness was starting to take form in his mind.
The left juror, the one Deanna was fairly certain was female, continued the questioning. “In your species, this is long enough to become emotionally attached to her?”
“Yes.”
“When did you learn she was gestating your offspring?”
Will swallowed his poorly placed amusement and he turned his eyes to Deanna instead of keeping them on the captain.
Deanna heard the dryness in the captain voice as he answered the question. His tone was barely audible as he whispered,“Today.”
“If you had known of her condition, would you have become involved with Captain Baran?”
“I wouldn’t have left the ship,” the captain answered sharply.
“As it is apparent, she has followed you here,” the third juror’s tone was an admonishing one. “This planet is not considered to be safe for your species. Your actions have placed your mate in danger. If you are released, this behavior cannot continue.”
Deanna didn’t need to see the captain’s face to picture his expression.
“I can assure you I have learned my lesson,” he replied with as much dry control as a Vulcan desert.
Denial was one of the most prevalent of human emotions. Occasionally it was so strong it felt like a veil over the minds of her colleagues. It had been especially strong when she’d walked into the room. She suspected too many things had gone unsaid between Beverly and the captain. It didn’t seem to matter that they couldn’t see each other, or that they were under polite, yet extreme duress. Their joint denial was a heavy fog over both of their minds. As that fog lifted, it was akin to watching the sun burn the morning steam off Lake Elnar on Betazed.
Will’s sudden surge of curiosity made her realize there were tears in her eyes. Squeezing Will’s hand, she leaned in close enough to feel his ear against her lips. “I wish you could feel this,” she murmured before she dropped her forehead to his cheek and let him hug her closer.
The central juror leaned forward and finally asked, “Is the emotional attachment between you and your mate strong enough to be considered love?”
“I do love her,” he admitted candidly.
Clarity was one of the most beautiful sides of human emotion. The final distillation of what was truly in the heart was a distinct pleasure most telepaths were completely unable to explain to others. Like a perfect sunset, or the wash of a wave across the sand, this was a fleeting, consummate moment of lucidity where all was right with the universe.
Hearing the captain say it aloud was simply overkill. His thoughts had already settled and reformed to include his love as a relevant part of his consciousness.
Picard straightened in his chair and all traces of the smuggler persona he’d been carrying faded from his posture. He was not Galen, nor the great captain of the Enterprise, as he sat in the darkness he was simply a man. Jean-Luc Picard had been carrying the burden of his feelings so long that admitting them was like seeing himself in a mirror for the first time in his life. That which looked back at him was more beautiful and terrible than he could have imagined.
“I have had these feelings for many years,” he continued without taking his gaze from Beverly’s silhouetted form. “In all likelihood I will continue to feel this way until my death. Though it has been a great shock to me, I can give you my solemn word that I will try to integrate my responsibilities as a father into my life to the best of my abilities.”
The moment of staring and silent confirmation between the jurors lasted barely a minute. The grandeur of Picard’s thoughts faded into the meditative acceptance he always returned to as his center.
Will’s thoughts were split evenly between support and a deep sense of intimacy. His loyalty to his friends was paramount and he’d been sincere in his love for both of them. His feelings radiated out from him like an aura of golden light. Deanna was used to sharing the love of those she cared about, it was commonplace on Betazed to be in the midst of deep and wondrous emotion. Most humans were more private, Beverly and the captain both registered a sense of invasion, even if the results had been pleasant, they’d both been exposed.
Will’s thumb removed her tears from her cheek and that motion drew her back into character.
“I believe that settles the matter,” Deanna broke the silence with a hint of regal impatience. “Allow me to make restitution for the resources this man has cost your world and we will be on your way. I can assure you this man will not trouble you again.”
The power of the silence as the jurors communicated was so strong it almost felt like a buzzing in the air. The crimson forcefield sealing them into the courtroom disappeared with a snap. Apparently, the court’s answer was simply to open the door into the artificial light of the hallway and let it stream in. The three jurors remained in place for the next hearing, but Deanna and her colleagues had been released.
The bailiff inclined his head to the left and turned to Deanna before he spoke. “Restitution can be made by the entrance,” he informed her as he glanced down at the padd in his hand. “The price of this human’s freedom has been set at fifty-five bars of latinum. The final price when his decorum and behavior have been taken into account is forty-two bars, six slips of latinum.”
“Not bad,” Will mused as he hovered at her side. “Discounts for good behavior.”
When Beverly was slow to get to her feet, Will left Deanna to offer his support and she then watched as the captain waved him off. With understated gallantry, Picard offered his newly freed hand to the woman he’d just admitted was the love of his life. Beverly’s restrained relief was humming in her mind but absent from her face. She was stoic, her expression still and elegantly porcelain but her fingers clung gratefully to his arm.
Deanna was so buried in their minds that she missed the first wave of alarm. The torrent of fear and bloodlust washed into her mind a few seconds before the sirens began to sound. For a moment, it was eerily quiet except the sirens. The corridor they were in only had one exit, up the stairway to the right, and there was smoke starting to creep down the stairs. Tension and fear wiped all the relief from their minds.
Will led the way up the stairs, Deanna was a few steps behind him and both of them kept checking for the other two. Exiting the basement that held the courtroom put them in the large open atrium that was the entrance to the prison complex. Outside the transparisteel windows, it was already dark and orange phaser fire lit up the night.
“Get down,” Worf’s low voice cut through the high pitched sirens of alarm. He’d been outside. Joining them would have required that he disarm and he’d been adamantly opposed to that. Even the Suuka had cause to respect Klingons and he’d been allowed to remain armed as long as he remained in the lobby.
Now his black leather clad form was a protective wall between them and the phaser fire creeping in from outside. Will and Deanna dropped to a crouch by the wall behind him and Worf led them behind an abandoned desk for cover. Passing Will and Deanna their phasers, he left the relative safety of the desk to provide cover for the captain and doctor.
Will pounded his communicator and listened for the automatic response of the Mendel. Leaning close to Deanna as he peered over the desk, he explained, “Communications are blocked. Phasers are working so we’re not in one of those damn dampening fields, but we need to get clear of the building to contact the runabout.”
When Beverly nodded in agreement, Worf handed the captain what had been Beverly’s phaser and drew a smaller one from his boot to pass to her. “It is good to see you again, sir,” he grunted with a toothy smile.
“Black suits you Lieutenant,” the captain teased dryly as he dropped down next to Will behind the desk. “It is good to see all of you, but allow me hold my thanks until my rescue has been completed.”
“How many men were left on Baran’s ship?” Worf asked as he kept a count of the Suukan guards around them.
“Five,” the captain reported. “But they could have easily hired mercenaries on this planet to increase their number.”
The highly charged emotions of those fighting their way in were disorganized enough to be mercenaries. Deanna nodded and agreed with him. “Their minds don’t feel professional or focused.”
Picard agreed with a grimace, “Thugs.”
Peering over the edge as long as he dared, Will sank back down and met Worf’s eyes. “I count at least twenty out there,” Will offered shortly. “Maybe more. I only see a handful of guards in here.”
The captain looked from his number one to his security chief. “Options?”
Worf pondered the situation for a moment before he reported to his plan. “The attacking force seems focused on the main entrance,” he said pointing with his phaser to clarify. “The smaller entrance to the north is being jointly ignored by both sides.”
“All right,” the captain agreed as he followed Worf’s gaze. “Deanna, do you sense anyone lying in wait in that direction?”
Trying to focus her mind was easier than listening to the whine of phaser fire be interrupted only by the heavy sound of bodies hitting the floor. The sense of bloodlust, greed and fear was much weaker to the north. “The bulk of the force is at the main entrance,” she agreed.
Worf’s body tensed beside her and he seemed ready to go. “The commander and I will clear the way.”
“I’ll assist the doctor,” Picard volunteered and Deanna felt his unwillingness to let her out of reach lance through him. Beverly’s eyes were clear but her unsteadiness was lying just beneath the surface.
“I’ll be last,” Deanna promised. Will’s concern flared for a moment but disappeared beneath his sense of duty.
Will glanced around the knot of faces once. “We should only need to get ten or fifteen meters from the building to clear the dampening field.” His smile as he finished was icy. “When we’re clear, we can get the hell out of here.”
Picard nodded. Will and Worf fired twice at the doorway before they broke into a run. Getting to her knees and laying down covering fire with the captain, Deanna felt her heartbeat three times as hard as normal as adrenaline surged through her. Will was through the door and checking the alley when Worf nodded to the captain and started clearing the way with his phaser.
Deanna concentrated on the main doorway and watched for flashes of movement that represented parts of the invading mercenary force. She felt the captain’s wave of concern for Beverly like an electric current. It was still buzzing in her head when the explosion bathed the right half of her body in heat.
Frustrated with the progress they were making at the door, one of the mercenaries had lobbed an explosive device into the southern corner of the building. Stone and seared metal dust were still in the air when the mercenaries poured into the building from the south. In the same unlucky moment, Suukan reinforcements appeared from the prison on the west side of the lobby.
The captain and doctor had their backs to Deanna as she crawled out of the scorched remains of what had been her cover. Backpedaling to catch up to them, she watched as a shot from her phaser took one of the smugglers in the chest and felled him. Phaser fire flew past, singeing her hair as she fired again. Worf ran towards her, putting his bulk between the captain and the attacker’s new line of fire.
Deanna could tell the familiar mind directly behind her was Beverly’s. It wouldn’t have mattered who it was. She would have held her ground to protect any one of her shipmates, knowing it was Beverly just made it that much easier to shove her instincts to the back of her mind.
It happened in less than an instant. Turning into the blast, Deanna made herself as much of a target as possible. The smuggler’s mind burst with triumph as his brilliant phaser beam charred its way into her chest. Pain like she’d never felt, a kind of vivid agony, sang through her mind as her knees buckled. Without feeling the impact in any part of her body, she hit the rubble that had once been the floor.
Author: me!
Rating:PG-13, technobabble, blood, angst
Notes: Remember that clip I was obsessed with? The one with Beverly's crazy hat? Yes, well... Link to TNG clip
Betaing & thanks:
miriel helped me with the idea and gave me happy thoughts when I got stuck. **lanna_kitty** the hallowed and loved, betaed this like there was nothing else going on in her crazy life. She helped with characters, plot, grammar...everything!!! She rocks. (and has a needy kitten)Summary: When Captain Picard disappears on a shore leave on a nonaligned world, the away team goes under cover to try and find him. Worf uses an unorthodox cover story and it spirals out of control. Crusher/Picard with significant Riker/Troi leanings. (yes, I wrote another damn babyfic...)
part one || part two || part three
Being imprisoned was only the latest part of a very odd shore leave, Jean-Luc thought to himself as he straightened his back against the wall. He’d simply intended to take a look at the ruins north of this city. It was purportedly the ruins of some kind of ancient Vulcan colony, long deserted and mostly forgotten, but the Enterprise had been nearby and he’d been unable to resist the chance to take a look.
Baran and his band of smugglers had appeared on the fifth day. Only luck and the fact that he wasn’t wearing his communicator had prevented him from being killed on sight. Baran had murdered his science officer. Though the smuggler captain immediately hated Jean-Luc’s alter-ego Galen, he’d stayed alive because he was useful.
Lifting the metal cup of water to his mouth, Jean-Luc drank the weak tea that arrived with his bread, squash and cheese lunch with a grimace. It tasted faintly of wet grain instead of real tea but that flavor was better than the primitive, chemically purified taste of the water. The squash was bright green and overcooked. The cheese was grey and shot with stripes of pink but it was the most palatable.
After his processing and medical examination, he was shown to a small, box-like cell. Feeling like a main character from one of his favorite old Earth novels, he’d been trying to make the best of things. Practicing tai’chi and the handful of mok’bara moves he’d learned from Worf, kept him busy for a few hours but his mind wasn’t in it.
In this cell, his mind was the traitor that kept him from doing anything useful. He’d expected his crew to look for them. It would be difficult, now that he had Baran’s control device in his neck, for any kind of rescue if the smuggler was still free. He’d been offered the opportunity to watch the device kill Baran’s science officer immediately after they’d landed. Jean-Luc had personally felt the torturous burning of the plasma energy set his veins on fire. The reptilian police force had taken the control device from Baran, but they seemed to have no plans to remove his implant.
Riker and his team were looking for him. Were he in the position of his number one, he’d certainly risk his own life to find his officer. He had no doubt his staff would volunteer their lives for him as well. He’d been with the smugglers how long? Eight, nine days? It hadn’t taken long for them to find him, especially considering how the might of the Enterprise would be hampered in nonaligned space.
Their attempt to buy him from Baran was almost as impressive as their costumes. He’d barely recognized Worf and Deanna from across the room yesterday and he’d been too far back to know what points Deanna was using to negotiate. According to T’Lera’s superior hearing, it had something to do with the human woman, Beverly, being ill. That seemed indeed to be the case when Beverly had disappeared from the negotiations, apparently under the ruse of being nauseated.
Whatever ingenious plan his crew had come up with, he was unfortunately not going to get to find out what it was. He knew a smattering of facts about the Suuka from diplomatic seminars and scattered briefings. Their legal system was strict and incredibly quick to impose capital punishment, however it was not entirely unreasonable. Will had Data, Deanna and Starfleet records to assist him. He would have to trust them to get him out.
From what he knew of Suukan law, he’d have one hearing to determine his worth, then their decision would be final. He was beginning to wonder how that trial would go when one of the reptilian guards appeared outside of the metal door keeping him in his cell. The guard pressed a low-pitched chime once out of some kind of respect before she opened the simple grey door. “Galen, prisoner of the Suuka, you have a visitor. Do you wish to receive her?”
Getting to his feet, he straightened his brown leather tunic prison out of habit. “Yes,” he answered simply.
“You have ten minutes,” the guard replied calmly. “You will be watched but not listened to. I will return to retrieve her. If you harm her, you will be killed.”
“Simple enough,” Jean-Luc murmured. Crossing his arms over his chest, he brought his hand to his chin and paced the two meters his cell. He was looking out the window, expecting to hear Deanna’s voice before he turned back towards the door as it opened.
“Jean-Luc!” The voice turned his name into a gasp. His ears almost burned at the sound of the very familiar voice. “Jean-Luc, are you all right?”
Whipping around in surprise, the first thing he saw was Beverly’s hand gripping the door frame with white knuckles. Her hair was several shades darker and pulled harshly back in a way that made her skin look terribly pale. Her clothing was unfamiliar, some kind of green civilian jumpsuit and copper overcoat, but she was Beverly Crusher.
Licking her lips as she took a step into his cell, he saw her waver slightly before she reached the wall of his cell to steady her.
“Beverly,” he began with her name and felt almost foolish staring at her the way he was. “I thought you’d be Deanna.”
“I almost wish I was,” she replied mysteriously. She licked her lips again and seemed to struggling against something. Her skin was naturally pale, but today it seemed unhealthily so, and her lips were nearly as devoid of color. The dark circles under her eyes were pronounced and evoked a rush of sympathy. It was obvious to him that she had slept little, perhaps even for the last several days.
Indicating the small, hard bed with his hand, he tried to sit her down. “Please,” he begged her and extended his hand towards hers when she didn’t move. “Doctor, Beverly, are you all right?”
“I just asked you Captain,” she teased him without taking a step towards the bed.
“I assure you I am uninjured,” he promised her quickly. “Please, sit.” Taking the initiative and grabbing her hand across the bed, he tugged gently and to his surprise nearly pulled her the last fraction of a meter to the bed. Grasping her other arm by the elbow, he managed to guide her, however ungracefully, down to the bed. Beverly nearly collapsed down to it and only bracing himself on the wall prevented him from falling on top of her before he regained his balance.
“Sorry, didn’t expect it to get this bad.” Her voice was almost a whisper and it seemed to take a great act of will to force her eyes back open. “I’m glad you’re well. It is very good to see you.”
“Beverly!” he chided firmly as he crouched down to look up at her. “What’s happened to you? Are you having some kind of allergic reaction to that gas they used yesterday? Why did Will let you remain on the mission if you-”
“-If I can barely keep myself on my feet?” she finished for him wryly. Her blue eyes were fixed on his face but there were no answers in them, only a new and almost frightening kind of desperation. “I’m afraid my presence is necessary, if potentially unwise.”
“Potentially unwise?” he repeated in disgust. “Your explanation had better be a hell of a lot better than that.”
“Yes, sir,” she responded reflexively with a maddening smile. “My apologies Captain. How would you like me to make my report?”
“Quickly, Doctor,” he snapped as he got back to his feet and resumed pacing just to have something to do other than glare at her.
Beverly’s head dropped back against the wall, as if to keep it from spinning. She swallowed with difficulty before she spoke. “Will’s leading Deanna, Worf and I on a rescue mission. Deanna was nearly successful in our attempt to buy you from Baran, then you were taken prisoner. We have altered the plan accordingly and believe we can have you released this evening, when the Suuka hear your case, sir.”
Pausing for what he thought was only a moment, she groaned softly and he whirled around in time to watch her head drop down into her hands. Taking a step towards her, he narrowly stopped himself from dragging her up and decided that observation might give him more answers.
When she regained her equilibrium, she finished speaking with her head down. “The runabout Mendel is waiting for us in orbit. Commander Data took the Enterprise on an escort mission near the Badlands. We will rendezvous with him there once we have recovered you, sir.” Even finishing her report seemed to be a great effort and her sigh at the end was genuinely exhausted.
Regretting his frustration, Jean-Luc shoved it down. His stomach knotted in hot concern and the flush of his sympathy ran up his neck uncomfortably. “Beverly,” he began as gently as he could. “What’s happened to you?” She didn't answer immediately and he had to bite his lip to keep from badgering her. When he reached for her cheek to draw her attention, he found it covered in sweat. Pulling his hand down, she held it in her lap.
"I'm sorry," she murmured again before she lifted her head. Now her skin was unnaturally flushed pink instead of pale. "I thought they’d passed. They've been getting less frequent. Must've stood up too long when the guards searched me."
“What’s wrong with you?” he probed carefully. Beverly was still having some trouble holding up her head, so he caught her chin and steadied it. Her eyes were bright but unfocused and she brought her hands to his shoulders. “Some kind of illness or fever?”
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, searching for support. “I’m suffering side effects,” she answered with frustration harshening her voice. “My blood pressure’s dropping at random and I keep getting hit with these damn hot flashes. I expected the dizziness, but the hot flashes should have stopped by now.”
Running his thumb along her chin, he tried to smile at her. “I don’t know much about medicine,” he reminded her with a shrug. “I nearly failed first aid at the Academy because my instructor thought I lacked empathy for my patients. I’m not going to be able to guess. Beverly, I need you to tell me.”
Her head dropped to his shoulder and her left hand slid down his back. He could feel the sweat on her forehead as it touched his neck and the unsteadiness of her hand against his spine. “I’m afraid,” she sighed. After a moment of hesitation, he wrapped his arms closer around her and leaned back against the wall.
Holding her was not a new experience, but she’d been closer lately, more affectionate. They’d danced around each other since she’d returned to the Enterprise and for the last few years something had been changing. They’d be growing closer and the insubstantial music that guided them had been slowing in response. Perhaps this was the next phase, something untried.
His voice seemed to belong to someone else as he asked, “Have you been exposed to something dangerous?” Speaking was too difficult for her and she let the question hang unanswered. “Beverly, you are one of the bravest people I know, just what are you afraid of?”
“I only have a few minutes left,” she sighed and seemed to steel herself from within. “We needed to find something. Some way to keep you safe.” Lifting her head slightly as if she was trying it out, she dropped it to his shoulder again. “Worf was just trying to get information. It spiraled and we just kept lying. Getting in deeper each time we talked to the smugglers until we finally ran into the Suuka. We couldn’t lie anymore.”
Holding her shoulders, he tried to imagine what she was possibly having trouble saying. “They seem to have that affect on most people,” Jean-Luc agreed dryly. “Beverly, you may just need to trust that whatever you have to tell me is something our relationship, whatever it may be, can survive.” He could feel the excessive heat of her body through his clothing and the slow movement of her chest beneath his arms.
Her voice was barely audible. “I just wanted to bring you home. I couldn't-I can’t lose you.”
“I assure you,” he replied with a touch of irony as he looked around the dull walls of his cell. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She kept her head down, still against his shoulder. “I’m pregnant,” she announced simply. “ The fetus has experienced nearly three months of development. My symptoms are a result of the procedure I had to use to create that time.”
Lifting her head with his hands, he brought her eyes level with his. He could find no trace of dementia or falsehood, only a quiet desperation that gnawed at his heart. “Beverly?”
“You’re the father.”
Jolting away from her in surprise, he forgot how unsteady she was. Beverly pulled herself up to a sitting position on her own, bracing her feet against the bed and hugging her knees to her chest.
“That’s impossible,” he snapped viciously. “And I don’t need to tell you that.” Anger flowed up from an unknown place in his psyche, blasting through his mind like a wildfire. His cell wasn’t big enough to pace, not with the inferno of thought blackening his mind. Looking everywhere but her, he finally stopped, arms stiffly at his sides as he tried to reign in his heart.
“When I left the Enterprise two weeks ago you were in perfect health and certainly not carrying my child. Even if it were somehow within the capabilities of medical science for a pregnancy to progress at the speed you suggest, using my DNA against my will to create a child is completely-”
“Unforgivable?” she asked as she stared past him at the bare floor. Taking a deep breath, she slowly started to stand. Bringing her feet back to the floor was an astonishing act of will and with one hand on the wall, Beverly stared him down. Part of her unnaturally dark hair was plastered to her forehead with drying sweat, but the pink had completely left her cheeks. “Jean-Luc, in one half hour the Suuka will question you. Make whatever argument you wish but Deanna, Will and I are going to risk our lives to bring you home because we need you. So will this child.”
Her icy stare was nearly enough to stop the stinging fire of betrayal. Something was beneath his anger and facing that was almost more terrifying than anything he’d known. Children mystified, frightened and filled him with the same kind of wonder as a black hole. As Wesley and numerous others had demonstrated, the potential to change the universe was nearly as powerful. He didn’t dislike or fear them as he once had.
If he’d been asked to choose one woman in the galaxy to share that experience with, it went without saying that Beverly was first in his heart. Without being asked his permission or being involved in the conception, he now had a responsibility to a being that would quite probably last the rest of his life.
There wasn’t a way to say that, at least, none that he knew. Beverly’s gaze was still on him but it was softening. No matter what happened, she was still his best friend.
“I fear I lack the time to respond properly,” he began apologetically with a tug on his tunic. “Please understand that my emotional response at this moment is without the kind of reflection this situation most urgently requires.” Shaking his head quickly, he brought a hand to the back of his head and tried to force everything into perspective. “I don’t think I’ve mentioned it to you yet, but I’ve recently started to believe that having a child is an experience I do wish to have.”
The same low pitched chime from before announced the return of the reptilian guard.
Beverly’s smile was gentle and there was a peace in it he found incredibly appealing. “Be careful what you wish for,” she murmured.
Jean-Luc could see the green ridges of the guard through the tiny window in the door. “Indeed,” he replied ruefully while taking a step towards her.
“It seems our time is up,” Beverly reminded him as the door started to open. It happened in an instant and, though he had no idea she was currently capable of moving that quickly, he should have known better than to underestimate her. In contrast to the way her skin had felt minutes ago, her lips were cool against the left side of his mouth. It wasn’t a passionate, Shakespearean kiss, but it was definitely something more than friendly.
Pleasure mixed with the myriad other emotions overwhelming his heart, reminding him that the human experience was richly varied as the stars themselves. Perhaps also as surprising he mused as he watched her from the door of his cell until she was long out of sight.
The Suukan court was the darkest she’d ever seen because the reptilian race relied little on visible light as part of their sight. In the semidarkness, Deanna tried to relax in her seat as she watched Will step up the Suukan witness stand. The seat in the middle of the court was lower than the rest, giving it an arena-like feel with a knot of darkness in the center. The lighting around it was weakest or all, giving the witness the effect of testifying in the dark to a circle of silhouettes.
The three Suukan jurors were seated in a semicircle along the back of the room. According to Worf, the thermal abilities they relied on functioned just as well in near darkness as they would in daylight. As the purported leader, Deanna had gone first.
The questions posed her had been simple enough. She’d identified Will as her beloved and avoiding the direct use of the word husband had kept her on the side of the truth. It was true that Worf had been her protector for the last seven years and that Beverly had seen to her needs medically for most of that time. It was true that Beverly outranked her, and was no subordinate servant, but language allowed for many nuances.
“Human male,” the bailiff began the ritual swearing in. “Do you understand and accept that all testimony you give, all words that you say, must be true, under pain of immediate death?”
“I do,” Will replied with a quick nod of his head.
The central juror acknowledged him and began his line of questioning. “Please begin by affirming your relationship to the female, Deanna.”
“Deanna is my imzadi,” Will explained to the court. She could feel his confidence and the underlying fear of failing his captain, but he was projecting quiet acceptance of the proceedings, as befitted the husband of a Betazoid trader. “For the last ten years, she has been beloved of my heart. I would follow her anywhere.”
One of the jurors tilted his head to the left, the motion was what passed for a nod among the Suuka and Deanna realized the fact of matter was now closed. On this planet, Will was her husband.
“And your sister?” the central juror continued.
“Beverly is intelligent, beautiful and deeply important to me. I love her as my sister. As long as it is in my power, I will never let anything unseemly befall her,” Will testified. Deanna could feel his thoughts change. He was calling up his fears and letting them play over his face as if he was trying to suppress them.
“You are afraid for her?”
Will nodded quickly and shifted as if his chair had suddenly become uncomfortable. “It is my fear that she loves this man,” he explained. Pointing at the captain, he brought up only his concern for Beverly. The intensity of that emotion only reinforced how ill Beverly must have been. She’d been avoiding Deanna and though it pained her to admit it, Deanna had been allowing her to do so.
There were rare moments when Deanna’s training and instincts both failed her but whenever she touched Beverly’s mind she immediately wanted to pull away. Even now, Beverly’s emotions pulsed in the background noise of the room like a vein bleeding itself dry. She’d seen the captain, alone as she had wished and Deanna had been too close. The rage and betrayal the captain felt had washed over her like a phaser blast. The captain’s thoughts were too intense and unfocused to be kept out of her head. Beverly’s thoughts were only now slowly stabilizing, as if they’d been struck by a hurricane that was starting to ease.
Wrapping herself in the comfortingly familiar space of Will’s mind had been the safest way to stay grounded. Usually it was something he only noticed in a vague sense and over the years, he’d grown comfortable with it. Like the couch in his quarters, it seemed his mind was open to her any time.
Even now in court, Deanna needed to depend on the relative safety of his thoughts. The minds of the jurors were rational, calm, and even bored. The case of a smuggler was of little importance to them. He was not known to be a killer, and she sensed the juror on the left was already more than happy to release Galen to her custody and be done with the matter.
“He claims to be unprepared to parent a child,” Will continued. “I don’t think any male of my species ever feels they are ready for that responsibility. I can’t control his actions but I believe my sister needs him to help her through this. As someone who loves her, I believe she would suffer greatly in his absence.”
“What of the smuggler?” The third juror asked. “What do you know of this man?”
“In a way, very little,” Will answered truthfully. Deanna could feel his concentration strengthen, though none of it was in his face. Wondering if his poker face stood up as well to the Suuka as it would to a human, she tried to project how proud she was of him. “He is a man who guards his heart tightly. What I know of his heart, I know from my sister and however foolishly, she loves him.”
Beverly’s emotions spiked and Deanna knew she needed to know why. The intensity of Beverly’s darkness while the captain had been missing was only rivaled by Will’s self-loathing and feeling of failure. Jean-Luc Picard was the father figure Will had lacked most of his life. Failing him was unacceptable and Will’s mind had grown dark. His position as acting captain had made him her first responsibility and she’d hadn’t had time to see to everyone.
Perhaps part of this was her fault, maybe if she had reached out to Beverly earlier, been conscious of her emptiness before she’d gone to such drastic steps. What had she been doing their last night on the Enterprise where the creation of a new life had missed her notice? Deanna knew it was foolish to hold herself responsible for the actions of the crew while she was sleeping, she couldn’t possibly be everywhere at once. That knowledge did nothing to assuage her guilt because Beverly was her friend. Something as intense as the mental anguish that must have come before the conception of this child should have been something she could read.
Maybe she hadn’t realized it because even Beverly didn’t know what she was feeling. Unfocused emotions were the most difficult to read. Her feelings for the captain had been buried so long they were nearly out of control. Like searching a neglected garden, it was difficult to identify which flowers had the intoxicating smell. In Beverly’s mind, attraction, friendship, pain and guilt had to coexist. Losing the captain had been more than her psyche was able to bear. The child within her had been the only way Beverly could live with herself. Caring for new life, life that was part of the captain, had been the only way she had to keep going.
Will’s spike in emotion brought Deanna back from Beverly’s thoughts. Beyond his stress, Will was amused. The juror’s last question had struck a pleasant nerve. “I can promise my loyalty. My sister will have the complete support of my beloved and I. Should this man decide to own up to his responsibility, he will have my full support as well. I believe he has the potential to be an excellent father.”
The bailiff grabbed Will’s shoulder and dismissed him by sending him back to his seat next to Deanna. Taking his hand back to her lap wasn’t part of their performance, but it calmed them both. Beverly fidgeted in her seat, expecting to be called next. Instead, the reptilian bailiff nudged the captain down into the center of the darkened room.
The jurors apparently did not need to speak to each other to understand their states of mind and merely spent a moment engaging each other’s eyes, as if participating in some kind of three-way staring contest. As someone who had grown up with silent communication, Deanna was the least bothered. The captain’s mind was actively nervous, mostly for his crew’s ability to escape but the knot at the center was about Beverly. Something old and deeply engrained in his consciousness was starting to exert itself.
The central juror began Picard’s questioning. “How long have you known the human female, Beverly?”
“Over twenty years,” he replied. His eyes were locked on Beverly’s dark silhouette and his nervousness was starting to take form in his mind.
The left juror, the one Deanna was fairly certain was female, continued the questioning. “In your species, this is long enough to become emotionally attached to her?”
“Yes.”
“When did you learn she was gestating your offspring?”
Will swallowed his poorly placed amusement and he turned his eyes to Deanna instead of keeping them on the captain.
Deanna heard the dryness in the captain voice as he answered the question. His tone was barely audible as he whispered,“Today.”
“If you had known of her condition, would you have become involved with Captain Baran?”
“I wouldn’t have left the ship,” the captain answered sharply.
“As it is apparent, she has followed you here,” the third juror’s tone was an admonishing one. “This planet is not considered to be safe for your species. Your actions have placed your mate in danger. If you are released, this behavior cannot continue.”
Deanna didn’t need to see the captain’s face to picture his expression.
“I can assure you I have learned my lesson,” he replied with as much dry control as a Vulcan desert.
Denial was one of the most prevalent of human emotions. Occasionally it was so strong it felt like a veil over the minds of her colleagues. It had been especially strong when she’d walked into the room. She suspected too many things had gone unsaid between Beverly and the captain. It didn’t seem to matter that they couldn’t see each other, or that they were under polite, yet extreme duress. Their joint denial was a heavy fog over both of their minds. As that fog lifted, it was akin to watching the sun burn the morning steam off Lake Elnar on Betazed.
Will’s sudden surge of curiosity made her realize there were tears in her eyes. Squeezing Will’s hand, she leaned in close enough to feel his ear against her lips. “I wish you could feel this,” she murmured before she dropped her forehead to his cheek and let him hug her closer.
The central juror leaned forward and finally asked, “Is the emotional attachment between you and your mate strong enough to be considered love?”
“I do love her,” he admitted candidly.
Clarity was one of the most beautiful sides of human emotion. The final distillation of what was truly in the heart was a distinct pleasure most telepaths were completely unable to explain to others. Like a perfect sunset, or the wash of a wave across the sand, this was a fleeting, consummate moment of lucidity where all was right with the universe.
Hearing the captain say it aloud was simply overkill. His thoughts had already settled and reformed to include his love as a relevant part of his consciousness.
Picard straightened in his chair and all traces of the smuggler persona he’d been carrying faded from his posture. He was not Galen, nor the great captain of the Enterprise, as he sat in the darkness he was simply a man. Jean-Luc Picard had been carrying the burden of his feelings so long that admitting them was like seeing himself in a mirror for the first time in his life. That which looked back at him was more beautiful and terrible than he could have imagined.
“I have had these feelings for many years,” he continued without taking his gaze from Beverly’s silhouetted form. “In all likelihood I will continue to feel this way until my death. Though it has been a great shock to me, I can give you my solemn word that I will try to integrate my responsibilities as a father into my life to the best of my abilities.”
The moment of staring and silent confirmation between the jurors lasted barely a minute. The grandeur of Picard’s thoughts faded into the meditative acceptance he always returned to as his center.
Will’s thoughts were split evenly between support and a deep sense of intimacy. His loyalty to his friends was paramount and he’d been sincere in his love for both of them. His feelings radiated out from him like an aura of golden light. Deanna was used to sharing the love of those she cared about, it was commonplace on Betazed to be in the midst of deep and wondrous emotion. Most humans were more private, Beverly and the captain both registered a sense of invasion, even if the results had been pleasant, they’d both been exposed.
Will’s thumb removed her tears from her cheek and that motion drew her back into character.
“I believe that settles the matter,” Deanna broke the silence with a hint of regal impatience. “Allow me to make restitution for the resources this man has cost your world and we will be on your way. I can assure you this man will not trouble you again.”
The power of the silence as the jurors communicated was so strong it almost felt like a buzzing in the air. The crimson forcefield sealing them into the courtroom disappeared with a snap. Apparently, the court’s answer was simply to open the door into the artificial light of the hallway and let it stream in. The three jurors remained in place for the next hearing, but Deanna and her colleagues had been released.
The bailiff inclined his head to the left and turned to Deanna before he spoke. “Restitution can be made by the entrance,” he informed her as he glanced down at the padd in his hand. “The price of this human’s freedom has been set at fifty-five bars of latinum. The final price when his decorum and behavior have been taken into account is forty-two bars, six slips of latinum.”
“Not bad,” Will mused as he hovered at her side. “Discounts for good behavior.”
When Beverly was slow to get to her feet, Will left Deanna to offer his support and she then watched as the captain waved him off. With understated gallantry, Picard offered his newly freed hand to the woman he’d just admitted was the love of his life. Beverly’s restrained relief was humming in her mind but absent from her face. She was stoic, her expression still and elegantly porcelain but her fingers clung gratefully to his arm.
Deanna was so buried in their minds that she missed the first wave of alarm. The torrent of fear and bloodlust washed into her mind a few seconds before the sirens began to sound. For a moment, it was eerily quiet except the sirens. The corridor they were in only had one exit, up the stairway to the right, and there was smoke starting to creep down the stairs. Tension and fear wiped all the relief from their minds.
Will led the way up the stairs, Deanna was a few steps behind him and both of them kept checking for the other two. Exiting the basement that held the courtroom put them in the large open atrium that was the entrance to the prison complex. Outside the transparisteel windows, it was already dark and orange phaser fire lit up the night.
“Get down,” Worf’s low voice cut through the high pitched sirens of alarm. He’d been outside. Joining them would have required that he disarm and he’d been adamantly opposed to that. Even the Suuka had cause to respect Klingons and he’d been allowed to remain armed as long as he remained in the lobby.
Now his black leather clad form was a protective wall between them and the phaser fire creeping in from outside. Will and Deanna dropped to a crouch by the wall behind him and Worf led them behind an abandoned desk for cover. Passing Will and Deanna their phasers, he left the relative safety of the desk to provide cover for the captain and doctor.
Will pounded his communicator and listened for the automatic response of the Mendel. Leaning close to Deanna as he peered over the desk, he explained, “Communications are blocked. Phasers are working so we’re not in one of those damn dampening fields, but we need to get clear of the building to contact the runabout.”
When Beverly nodded in agreement, Worf handed the captain what had been Beverly’s phaser and drew a smaller one from his boot to pass to her. “It is good to see you again, sir,” he grunted with a toothy smile.
“Black suits you Lieutenant,” the captain teased dryly as he dropped down next to Will behind the desk. “It is good to see all of you, but allow me hold my thanks until my rescue has been completed.”
“How many men were left on Baran’s ship?” Worf asked as he kept a count of the Suukan guards around them.
“Five,” the captain reported. “But they could have easily hired mercenaries on this planet to increase their number.”
The highly charged emotions of those fighting their way in were disorganized enough to be mercenaries. Deanna nodded and agreed with him. “Their minds don’t feel professional or focused.”
Picard agreed with a grimace, “Thugs.”
Peering over the edge as long as he dared, Will sank back down and met Worf’s eyes. “I count at least twenty out there,” Will offered shortly. “Maybe more. I only see a handful of guards in here.”
The captain looked from his number one to his security chief. “Options?”
Worf pondered the situation for a moment before he reported to his plan. “The attacking force seems focused on the main entrance,” he said pointing with his phaser to clarify. “The smaller entrance to the north is being jointly ignored by both sides.”
“All right,” the captain agreed as he followed Worf’s gaze. “Deanna, do you sense anyone lying in wait in that direction?”
Trying to focus her mind was easier than listening to the whine of phaser fire be interrupted only by the heavy sound of bodies hitting the floor. The sense of bloodlust, greed and fear was much weaker to the north. “The bulk of the force is at the main entrance,” she agreed.
Worf’s body tensed beside her and he seemed ready to go. “The commander and I will clear the way.”
“I’ll assist the doctor,” Picard volunteered and Deanna felt his unwillingness to let her out of reach lance through him. Beverly’s eyes were clear but her unsteadiness was lying just beneath the surface.
“I’ll be last,” Deanna promised. Will’s concern flared for a moment but disappeared beneath his sense of duty.
Will glanced around the knot of faces once. “We should only need to get ten or fifteen meters from the building to clear the dampening field.” His smile as he finished was icy. “When we’re clear, we can get the hell out of here.”
Picard nodded. Will and Worf fired twice at the doorway before they broke into a run. Getting to her knees and laying down covering fire with the captain, Deanna felt her heartbeat three times as hard as normal as adrenaline surged through her. Will was through the door and checking the alley when Worf nodded to the captain and started clearing the way with his phaser.
Deanna concentrated on the main doorway and watched for flashes of movement that represented parts of the invading mercenary force. She felt the captain’s wave of concern for Beverly like an electric current. It was still buzzing in her head when the explosion bathed the right half of her body in heat.
Frustrated with the progress they were making at the door, one of the mercenaries had lobbed an explosive device into the southern corner of the building. Stone and seared metal dust were still in the air when the mercenaries poured into the building from the south. In the same unlucky moment, Suukan reinforcements appeared from the prison on the west side of the lobby.
The captain and doctor had their backs to Deanna as she crawled out of the scorched remains of what had been her cover. Backpedaling to catch up to them, she watched as a shot from her phaser took one of the smugglers in the chest and felled him. Phaser fire flew past, singeing her hair as she fired again. Worf ran towards her, putting his bulk between the captain and the attacker’s new line of fire.
Deanna could tell the familiar mind directly behind her was Beverly’s. It wouldn’t have mattered who it was. She would have held her ground to protect any one of her shipmates, knowing it was Beverly just made it that much easier to shove her instincts to the back of her mind.
It happened in less than an instant. Turning into the blast, Deanna made herself as much of a target as possible. The smuggler’s mind burst with triumph as his brilliant phaser beam charred its way into her chest. Pain like she’d never felt, a kind of vivid agony, sang through her mind as her knees buckled. Without feeling the impact in any part of her body, she hit the rubble that had once been the floor.