USS Elementia Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“Something wrong with transporter room one, sir?”
“Nurse Ogawa is having some difficulty transporting back to Elementia. There's some crew there now trying to find the problem.”
Will hadn't even known she had been back on board. He lowered his voice. “Something to report?”
Commander Troi stood by the transport operator, too far away to hear a soft spoken conversation. Captain Picard's focus had drifted toward her as well.
“Just Beverly's unease with the situation, and a great many of engineers amongst the crew.”
“Engineers? It is a prototype ship.”
“Yes, but nothing has felt quite right since we found that ship. Her report raises more questions for me.”
“A prototype ship in enemy space is peculiar.” The only real peculiarity Will could think of. Since they had identified the ship, he hadn't felt anything strange beyond having to look at unfamiliar familiar faces.
“Enemy space?”
Of course he didn't know. Will suddenly felt like he was betraying a confidence, though he had hardly been told in secret. “I.. I was told Betazed fell to the Klingons.”
“Were you? Anything else from the commander?”
“The war isn't going well.” She hadn't said it in so many words, but her goodbye to Yar said it plainly enough.
“If Betazed fell, who knows how many other planets the Federation lost.”
Will hadn't thought much on that, too caught up in trying to figure out his counterpart's relationship to Commander Troi.
“Receiving a signal from Elementia, sir.”
At the transporter operator's words, Picard stepped away from his hushed conversation, standing straight and at attention. Will saw Troi do the same. When Captain Crusher materialized, she watched Picard a moment before stepping over to her first officer. Will saw his captain's arm twitch as he was ignored.
“No tears, Deanna?”
“No.”
Her captain placed her fingers on her chin, lifting her face so that she had no choice but to look her in the eye. She nodded, her close scrutiny seeming to have found nothing wrong. Captain Crusher dropped her hand back to her side and finally went to stand in front of the other captain.
Picard had hung back while they went through their strange ritual, stepping forward only as he was approached. “Welcome to the Enterprise, Captain.”
“Thank you.”
“This way, if you please. We can talk in my ready room.”
He waited for her nod before leading the way out into the corridor. Will fell into place behind Commander Troi, who followed her captain at a distance, giving her room to speak to Picard in almost privacy, if she wished.
He leaned over her shoulder, keeping his voice quiet as he spoke. “Another unusual greeting.”
She looked back at him briefly before turning her focus forward again, slowing her steps. “Not another war motif, Commander. She was asking after my health.”
“Your health?”
Troi stopped walking and swept aside her hair, exposing the back of her neck to his eyes. A tiny scar was visible before disappearing into her hairline. She let her hair drop back over it once she was sure he had seen it.
“I was captured and held by the Klingons for several months.” Her hands came up, fingers brushing against her cheek. “Most of the left half of my face was destroyed. I initially refused reconstruction, but in the end I wanted Andrea to be able to recognize me. It wasn't a perfect reconstruction. Occasionally there are problems with my tear ducts: I cry blood.”
Will's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. The days he had spent as a guest aboard a Klingon ship had been brutal enough, but to spend months in their hands as an enemy?
“I suppose our Klingons are a little different- they don't take prisoners here. Dishonorable. You die in battle, or bring shame.”
“They used to be that way, but their Romulan allies taught them the importance of information gathering in a drawn out conflict.”
What the hell had they been trying to get from her that they kept her so long? Had they gotten it, and kept her, or had she held fast, so they just kept torturing her?
“Andrea.. you mentioned that name, like it was someone I would know.”
She turned to face him, and for the first time since she had come aboard, Will saw something he was sure was unintentional flicker across her face. Sadness.
“My mistake, Commander.”
“Will you tell me who she is?”
“My daughter.”
Will managed to keep his face from betraying his shock, though his heart picked up its tempo in his chest. “I see. And the me in your time knows you well enough to know her.”
“Yes.”
“You know, I met our Deanna when I was a young officer, stationed on Betazed.”
The woman in front of him smiled faintly. “That is when I met my Will as well, and yes. He is the father to my daughter. We got married on Betazed before his first front line posting.”
A quick engagement, if they had waited at all. “You don't wear a ring.”
“He doesn't either.” Her answer would almost sound bored, if her words hadn't been so clipped.
“Is he dead?”
“No. He captains the Argon, one of our Brigade class warships.”
He tried for some levity, hoping to lift the dark mood that mentioning his counterpart seemed to bring. “No wonder you were surprised to see me as a commander.”
“I wasn't surprised.”
The steel in her voice told him to drop his teasing. “Where's Andrea?”
“On Earth, with my mother.”
He choked off his next question before he could ask it. Of course she wasn't on Betazed. That planet had fallen. She read him too well, answering the question he had been forgetful enough to nearly ask.
“My mother and our - my daughter, were some of the few survivors to make it off Betazed.”
“I'm sorry.”
“There's no need for you to be.”
Simply another thing he did not know.
Could he ask to see her picture? How wrong would it be to gaze on the face of a daughter he never had? Will did his best to squelch the desire. She was not his, she never would be. He had decided on a different path a long time ago. It would be wrong to look upon his counterpart's choices. It would be cruel. He did not need the image of a little girl haunting his dreams, and having a face to go with it would make matters worse. He would die never knowing what she looked like because he had made that choice years ago. He could not take it back now. He was not suddenly a father because that other Will Riker was.
“I believe we have fallen behind, Commander.”
They had. He moved at a quickened pace to try and catch up with the unbroken stride of their captains.
-
Worf had to return to his work, Data was filling in for Geordi in engineering, and the others were either off the ship or busy. Rather than return to her quarters and try to think of something to do, Deanna went to her office, hopeful to find some paperwork to keep her occupied.
She sat, half slumped in her chair and stared at her blank console, work ethic suddenly dimmed. Why had she ever given up her old swivel chair? Because Will had walked in on her spinning in circles one day, not too long after both of their appointments to the Enterprise. Right. She had requisitioned a new chair the moment after she shoved his grinning face out of the door.
She had still been finding her place then. She didn't have time for aimless spinning anymore, though at the moment it certainly felt like it.
If Captain Picard had wanted her around when he spoke with Captain Crusher, he would have asked for her.
She closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts. Elementia was still a knot of anxiety, just to the side of the Enterprise. Her own ship's crew did not seem to be having a day different from any other. She tried to find Beverly or Geordi in the jumble of emotions. Most were dim thoughts of pain. There were so many injured on that ship.. luckily she could feel none slipping away.
Not being prepared when someone died around her was one of the most disconcerting slams to her psyche she had ever experienced. Being on Enterprise put her near that kind of suffering more than she would have liked. Thoughts turned dark, she reached out again, suddenly needing to feel her friends' presences.
Deanna sighed, deciding to risk interrupting something important.
She tapped her comm badge. “Troi to Crusher.”
All she got back was static.
“Troi to La Forge.”
Her body tensed.
“Beverly? Geordi?”
Deanna jumped up from her chair and was halfway to her door before she remembered she needed to call security.
-
“I was informed you would not be interested in speaking with me.” They had lost their first officers somewhere in the corridor, and Jean-Luc closed the door to his ready room behind them without a second thought. He had hoped to speak with her privately anyway.
“Deanna is too protective of me. I've worked with the Picard of my timeline plenty of times.”
Not happily, going by the stiffness in her voice. “Very well. What is it you wanted to discuss?” They stood in front of his desk, a cold distance between them as they faced each other. It was hard to think of this woman as even remotely similar to the Beverly Crusher he knew.
“My ship.”
He had to draw every word out of her it seemed. “The repairs are going well?”
“The supplies you sent have been very useful.”
She was dancing around something. He stayed standing and didn't offer her a seat. “Is there anything else I can do for your ship?”
She seemed to ignore his question, finally speaking on what he was sure was really on her mind. “I needed to see you for myself.”
Despite her coolness since arrival, now that they were alone, she seemed incapable of keeping her eyes from him. Her focus felt like scrutiny, as if she was stripping him bare and finding him wanting.
“I see.”
“You are calmer. Tasha was right.”
Calm? Was the Picard she knew some kind of manic man? “Are you here to make a judge of my character?”
“I don't have time for that." There was something tinging almost towards regret in her words. "I had to make do with what I knew of the man who has your name.”
He felt himself grow cold, and anger and panic warred inside of him. “Had to? What have you done?”
“Done what I felt was necessary to keep my ship safe.”
The room shuddered, and they both stumbled, breaking eye contact. Alarms started blaring.
“Captain Picard to the bridge.”
Crusher's face was washed briefly with annoyance as she straightened herself. “Damn impatient woman.”
He wanted a phaser at his side so badly his hand itched toward his empty waist. Calling security at this moment would be pointless. “With me, Captain.”
-
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