USS Elementia Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“Geordi?”
“Hey, Data.”
“You are standing in the dark.”
“Yes.”
“From what I have observed, most people want to be left alone when they exhibit that behavior. Do you want to be left alone?”
“I don't.. no. Not anymore.” He had let him into his quarters, after all.
“Is there something I can assist with?”
Data made no move to turn on the lights, so Geordi ordered them up by fifteen percent. “Did you.. did you talk to them much?”
“I infer that you are speaking of Elementia's crew?”
“Yes.”
“No. I did not interact with them.”
“They.. they seemed all right.” Exhausted. Disheveled. Determined. Not desperate and dangerous. “I didn't even know anything was wrong until I noticed there was nothing wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Their engines. Once I had a decent enough grasp of the design, I realized they were working perfectly. It's a little stupid that I hadn't realized that before, what with all the maneuvering they had been doing to get away from the warbird.”
“They had you working on a system that required no repairs?”
“Yeah. They had taken off with all the supplies and gone to repair their other systems.. their.. weapon. Whatever it was.”
“They were distracting you from their real intentions.”
“They were holding me hostage and I didn't even realize. Once we got back on board Enterprise, Doctor Crusher and I.. everyone seemed so worried.” They had quickly realized something was wrong when their crew was sent back without them. They heard the full story was they were finally released.
“I have heard from other crewmen that 'tensions were high' upon the bridge during Elementia's weapon test. I believe a great deal of that tension could have been derived from worry over what the Elementia crew intended to do with you, Doctor Crusher and the others.”
“I think wondering if another hole was about to be punched in the universe was a part of it, but thank you Data.”
“You are welcome, Geordi.”
“Did you want something? There had to be reason for your visit.”
“I came to your quarters to ascertain if you were 'all right'. Are you all right?”
“After speaking with you, I'm definitely feeling better.”
-
Sickly sweet. Guinan's word rang in his head. His feet had taken him to Ten Forward before he remembered he had wanted to be there. Sickly sweet wasn't what he had been expecting. Who expected a warning via synthahol? How had she taken one look at Commander Troi and known she was toying with him? Frustrated with her not being clearer earlier, Will had left Ten Forward in search of someone else to share his discontent with.
“Come in.” Beverly had half risen from her chair, but upon seeing Will at the door, she sank back down. She waved him over after his first awkward step into her quarters.
“Sorry, am I bothering you?” No matter his desire to exorcise his demons, he did not want to intrude.
“Not at all.” She looked at him with far too much concern.
The door closed behind him, but he did not step farther into the room.
“Is something wrong?” She was half risen from her chair again, so he quickly crossed over to her.
“No, don't get up.”
Beverly frowned, standing regardless. “Something is wrong, and I think I'm going to get a drink and find out what it is. Want something?”
“No thank you.”
She stopped at her replicator, ordering a cup of tea before giving him her full attention. “Well?”
“Elementia.”
She nodded. “Forgive me, Will, but why not talk to Deanna about all of this?”
“Because she's the ship's counselor?” He sat, trying not to look her in the eye.
“You know that's not what I meant.”
“It seems too personal. It has to do with us, but not us, and with her and Worf...”
“I understand.”
“See? You're as good as any counselor.”
“I can't guarantee I'll do all the listening.” Beverly settled into the chair across from him, pulling her legs under herself.
“That's all right with me.”
“You can still start.”
Will laughed, but the sound died quickly. He rubbed his hand along his uniform pants, expression of mirth fading. “We...” The corner of his lip twitched. “They, had a daughter.”
Beverly sat up a little straighter in her chair. He waited for the surprise and pain to fade from her face. Commander Troi's bluntness had left all of them with the knowledge that the other Beverly had lost her child. It might not have been this Beverly's son that was lost, but it was a fear she lived with, especially since Wes's departure to study with the Traveler.
She broke the silence as he stared down at his shoes.
“It never occurred to you that you could have had a family by now?”
“No, it's not that. I've... I've thought about it before.” And that was more than he'd ever confessed to anyone. His career had been front and center for so much of his life, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of other possibilities.
He started when Beverley's hand squeezed his own. Will attempted to smile back, clutching her fingers and not letting her pull away.
“She's on Earth, with her grandmother. Apparently neither of us - them.. they.. they aren't really a part of her life. I couldn't imagine what could be so different in that man's life that he wouldn't be there for his child.”
“Like your father wasn't there for you.”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps that Riker has a completely different relationship with his father. A different childhood. Though I suspect... it's war Will. I imagine that Riker and Deanna want what's best for their little girl, for her to grow up in a galaxy where she's safe. Fighting might be their way of protecting her, being there for her.”
The thought of that kind of desperation made him ill. Were things so bad they were willing to risk missing out on her life, just so that she could have one? “Is that what you think their Beverly is doing? Fighting to make sure that what happened to her child won't happen to anyone else's?”
“Yes. I can't imagine anything else being what drove her to...”
“To such desperate measures.” They had all had time to read Data's report.
She nodded.
“I hope their desperation is worth it.”
-
“Counselor. Did you need something?”
“That's what I came to ask you.”
Jean-Luc hesitated, and Deanna smiled faintly in response. He stepped back, arm out to invite her into his ready room. She took a seat on the couch and left him standing, and he began to pace.
“How's the crew?” The easiest lead-in to a conversation with her that he was unsure about.
“Well. Not many of them really interacted with Elementia's crew.”
He nodded. “Yes. Good.” It was foolish to think of their presence as a taint, but he felt it, nonetheless. A mark. A weight. A failure, if not a blight.
“You didn't do a bad thing.”
He halted his pacing.
“You helped people who were in duress. If Enterprise had not shown up, they would have died.”
He could hardly look at her, even as he made himself turn to face her. Could she really be the same woman as Commander Troi? No. Their histories diverged too greatly. But did that mean there was still potential for that woman inside her? In all of them? That desperation? As more time went by, he was finding it more difficult to even think they looked the same. The faces of the officers on Elementia seemed suddenly twisted in his mind, alien next to the familiar ones he knew on Enterprise. Had he ever thought they could look the same? “What's one ship to an entire civilization?”
“You don't know if they will ever use that weapon.”
“We helped repair it, whatever its fate.” He went to stand by his desk, tired of pacing, but body still too restless to sit.
“No. We didn't. In fact, that crew went to great pains to make sure none of our crew ever had a hand in it.”
“Is that.. comforting?” All that did was make them seem more duplicitous. They had been hiding and planning it all from the start. Had they really needed their help against the Romulans? Could they have had enough time to recharge their weapon, destroy the ship, and vanish from their space without a trace? Left only a mystery, rather than a gnawing ache of doubt inside of him?
“It means they know it's wrong. That alone is hope that someone may prevent its use.”
“It doesn't seem like enough.” He should have disabled that ship. There had to be a way around their shields. Could he have done it? With Beverly and Geordi and the others on board? Would they have understood? Agreed? Could he have shot down a Federation ship, no matter its home dimension?
“Is it the existence of the weapon, or the people who planned to use it, that bothers you the most?”
He finally went to the couch, sinking down on its cushions. “That's what I keep thinking about. Yet, I can't help but remind myself that I never really felt I could trust them to begin with, that they never seemed like the people I knew.”
“You don't take comfort in that? Your instincts were right.”
“Does it matter either way? I still may have made my crew complicit in genocide.” The death of planets, at any rate, and what would they use that weapon against except for their enemies? The Klingons and the Romulans? Would they wipe out whole star systems just to get back at them? “Even if it was just our tools, our supplies, not our hands. Our hands gave those supplies.” Matches to a child. More like a chemical bomb to a renegade militant.
“Do you think that every eventual outcome, no matter how tangentially related to your actions, is your burden? That's a rather self-centered view of the universe, Captain. They are, in the end, responsible for themselves.”
He found himself smiling at her jab, despite his still sour mood. “You're right, but it is my actions that I am responsible for, and what I have control over. I can't help but want them to make a difference.”
“What can any of us hope for, but to make a difference?”
“Indeed.” He clasped his hands, and stared down at his intertwined fingers. “Yet, with that crew...”
“You couldn't make the difference you wanted.”
“No.”
“You can't save everyone.”
“I know.”
The silence that followed was comforting. Familiar.
-
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