by Peter David
hold on each other, mutually deciding that it would
probably look better if they didn't arrive
at the rendezvous with the flush of new love upon
them.
Tang and several other security people were waiting
for them. The recovered art treasures of Betazed
had already been sent on ahead back to the city and were
safely ensconced back in the museum. Tang
had also arranged for the bodies of the Sindareen
raiders to be shipped back--without comment--ffthe
Sindareen homeworld.
"Good work, Sergeant," said Riker
approvingly. He turned and extended a hand
to Deanna, who took it while maintaining as
neutral an expression as she could. "This is
Deanna Troi."
"Ma'am," Tang greeted her with a slight
inclination of his head. Then he exchanged looks with
Riker. If Tang had any inkling as to what had
gone on in the Jalara Jungle, he gave no
indication whatsoever. He was far too much of a
veteran, in every sense of the ^w, to be that open with
whatever was going through his mind. "You're certain that the
leader of the raiders was attended to?"
"Oh, yes," said Riker. "It's not the most
pleasant thing I've ever witnessed ... but he's
definitely attended to."
"Very well then, sir. Shall we go?"
"By all means, Sergeant."
The journey back to the city took
relatively little time. All the way back,
Deanna and Will exchanged only the most minimal
of conversation, most of it carefully polite
inquiries into the health and well-bbing of the other. But
then, as they approached the outskirts of the city,
Riker heard in his mind ...
Why don't you come over to the house tonight.
Are you sure your mother wouldn't mind?
Mind? Deanna's voice sounded
almost scoffing. How could she mind? I imagine
that she'll want to thank you for saving me. I'd like
to have her more kindly disposed towards you.
That would be nice. The thought of her being less
kindly disposed towards me is a really chilling
one.
"I want details."
Riker stared across Roper's desk at the
senior Federation representative. "Details
on what?" asked Riker politely.
"On what?" Roper looked incredulous. "The
entire thing! What do you think?" He gestured
toward the chair for Riker to sit down. "And
don't hold anything back!"
With a shrug, Riker started to sit ... and then,
just on impulse, he swung the chair around and
straddled it. "It was a fairly straightforward
operation. We searched the jungle. I was
fortunate enough to come upon the Sindareen raider before he
had the chance to injure Deanna. He resisted my
attempts to capture him and died in a mud
pit. I brought Deanna to the rendezvous and she
is, at this moment, safe and sound at home. End
of story."
"No," said Roper, waggling a finger. "No,
not end of story. You and her, out in the jungle. The
steamy, romantic Jalara Jungle. You having
just saved her life, her incredibly grateful.
The atmosphere, the mood. Our bet. Our
bet, dammit. You're not going to tell me that with
all that falling your way, you didn't take the
opportunity to ...?"
Riker sighed and said, "All right, Mark. I
have to admit it."
Eagerly Roper clapped his hands together.
"Tell me. Go on. Give an old man his
vicarious thrills."
"I'm afraid I can't do that," said Riker
slowly. "What I can give you is your two
hundred credits."
Roper's face fell. "You're telling me
that--"
"Pure as driven snow, Mark. And I grew
up in Alaska, so believe me, I know what
I'm talking about."
Roper sat back, his expression that of a child
having just been informed that Santa's existence was,
at best, a dubious proposition. "I can't
believe it."
"Believe it, Mark. To use the old
baseball parlance, no one bats a thousand. I
gave it my best moves, but I'm afraid that it
just didn't happen. And I'm tired of bruising
my ego trying."
"I must admit," said Roper, shaking his head,
"I'm just a bit disappointed. I generally can get
a feeling about people, Captain. And despite my
posturing to the contrary, I just had this gut instinct that
you and Deanna would make a good couple. I've
generally learned to trust that instinct. I hate
to find out that I was that much off target."
"It happens to the best of us, Mark. As far as
Deanna and I go, I'm afraid I just
wasn't in her league. But look at the bright
side. Sure, we both feel frustrated. But
at least you're frustrated and got two hundred
credits out of the deal."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"It's supposed to make one of us feel
better."
Roper studied him for a moment, with Riker
maintaining a carefully neutral expression.
"You know what I think?" said Roper after a time.
"No, Mark. What?"
"I think that you are the most
self-satisfied-looking "loser"' I've ever
seen."
Riker smiled enigmatically.
CHAPTER 28
Riker stood at the entrance of the Troi
mansion, waiting patiently for the door to open. But
he waited for what seemed an extraordinarily
long time before it finally did.
Mr. Homn wasn't standing there. Lwaxana
was.
Riker smiled graciously. "Mrs.
Troi," he said by way of greeting.
She forced a smile, but did not step aside
to allow him admission.
"Lieutenant," she said slowly, "I want
you to believe me when I tell you this is not easy
for me."
"What isn't easy, Mrs. Troi?"
"First, I have a moral obligation to thank you.
You rescued my daughter from a very dangerous
situation. You have, for that, my eternal gratitude
and sense of obligation. I will always keep your
heroism in mind whenever I think of you in the
future."
"Thank you."
But she had clearly not finished. "Because of that,
I am not using my considerable influence with
Starfleet to see that you're severely
reprimanded."
"I ... I beg your pardon?" But even as
he said it, the thought flashed through his mind in bleakest
fashion: She knows.
Of that, Lwaxana promptly left no
doubt. "Your subsequent actions with my daughter
were completely out of line. You took advantage
of a very incendiary situation."
"What happened between Deanna and myself, Mrs.
Troi," said Riker hotly, doing everything he
could not to lose his temper, "was entirely
mutual and entirely our business. I want
to see Deanna." He started to step past
&
nbsp; Lwaxana.
She put her arms out rigidly and her voice
was iron. "So help me, Lieutenant, no
matter what obligation I have to you, if you set
foot in here without my permission I will have you up
on charges for criminal trespass. Is that
clear?"
He halted in his tracks.
"I want to see Deanna," he repeated in
a low but forceful tone.
"And do what? And say what? What do you have
to offer her, Lieutenant? What, except a
further dilution of her purpose."
"Further ...?"
She stamped her foot in anger. "Don't you
understand anything? Anything? Do you have any
comprehension of what you've shoved your way into the
middle of? A line of obligation that stretches
back centuries! Tradition that was already old at
a time when your ancestors were still discovering the
mysteries of footwear! Blast it,
Lieutenant! Deanna isn't like the others!
She isn't like the other women you've known! She
isn't even like other Betazoidsffwas Lwaxana
slapped one hand against her palm for emphasis.
"Every step of her life has been mapped out for
her! Her education, her career, her place in
Betazoid society--all of it!"
"By you," he said tonelessly.
"Yes, by me. Of course by me. You think
I'm eager to shoulder that responsibility? No,
Lieutenant. No, I'm not. But I do it because
it's my obligation and I accept it. And
Deanna has accepted hers, and her obligation and
her future. And I'm telling you,
Lieutenant, right here, right now, that it's a
future in which you don't figure."
His gaze ice, he said, "That's for Deanna
and me to decide."
"Oh, really," Lwaxana said, making no
effort to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "And
where's that decision going to lead? Are you going
to give up your career exploring the galaxy?
Pass it up for a permanent position here on
Betazed? Clip your star-faring wings? Trade in
your space legs for walking shoes?"
"I want to see Deanna--"
"And where's that going to lead, Lieutenant?"
Lwaxana continued relentlessly. "Are you really
prepared to give all that up for Deanna? And if
you do, then how long, Lieutenant? How long before
the prospect of one planet wears thin on you?
How long before the sight of the same old sun,
rising and setting, day after day after day, weighs on
you, chokes and suffocates you? How long before you
blame Deanna for making you give it all up?
A year? Two? Five? When the first rush of
unbridled romance is faded, Lieutenant, and the
fires don't burn anywhere near as hot as the
stars that were once your home ... what's
going to happen then? Answer me."
Cold fury choked him and at first he couldn't
reply. But then, in the hallway behind Lwaxana,
he spotted her. She was standing there, near the
bottom of the stairway, a haunted look on her
face.
"Deanna!" he shouted to her.
Her hands moved in small, vague circles.
Lwaxana looked from one to the other, and then she
said firmly, "Tell him, Deanna."
Deanna looked down, unable to put ^ws
together.
"Deanna," said Riker, and then he said,
"Imzadi."
Lwaxana fired him a look that could have
extinguished one of those blazing stars to which she'd
referred moments before.
And Deanna now looked him square in the
face. She stood mere yards away, but her tone
and ^ws made her seem much, much further.
"She's right, W," said Deanna tonelessly.
"She's not right! She--"
"Sooner or later," continued Deanna, as
if Riker hadn't even spoken, "you're going
to want to leave. Your place is out there. Mine's
here." She hesitated, then said, "I have to be
adult about this. We both do. It's never going
to get any better for us than it was in the jungle,
w. That was it. That was the high point. I ... I
want to remember it that way. Before your nature
leads you to other places, other women ..."
"Deanna," he said hopelessly, feeling as
if she were fading from sight even as she stood there.
"Let it end on a high note, w. Not in the
downward spiral of a relationship gone wrong.
Think about what we had. That's what's
important. Because there's really nothing for us in the
future. Nothing."
She turned on her heel without another ^w.
Imzadi, he hurled at her bleakly.
She didn't even slow down as she walked
... no, ran from him ... up the stairs and out of
sight.
Lwaxana regarded him steadily. There seemed
no triumph in her eyes, he thought, which was odd.
"No, it's not odd, Lieutenant," she
replied to his unspoken thoughts. "I'm not some
ogress. Believe it or not ... all I want
is what's best for Deanna. Perhaps if you have children
someday, you will realize that watching out for
what's best is not something that brings a great deal of
pleasure. Sometimes--at times such as this one--it's
a responsibility filled with much pain. As a
Starfleet officer ... William ... this should not
be a particularly alien concept to you. You've
promised to assume responsibilities that are
not always going to be gratifying: obeying the orders
of a superior, even when you disagree. Or staying
your hand in the name of the Prime Directive, even
when your sense of morals would have you do otherwise.
Well, you don't have to be in Starfleet to face
such difficult moments. Deanna's facing one
such now ... and so am i. And believe it or not,
I take no joy in it. Because it's causing my
daughter sorrow, and I hate having to do that. But
we all face our responsibilities,
Lieutenant. We do what we have to do. I know and
accept that, as does Deanna. And now I think
it's time that you faced up to that as well. Good day,
Lieutenant."
The door closed in his face.
CHAPTER 29
The Scotch burned as it went down Riker's
throat.
He had gotten it from Tang. The sergeant had
seen Riker's bleak mood when the young Starfleet
officer had returned from the Troi homestead and
without a ^w had extracted the bottle from his
private stock, offering it to Riker with the contention that
it could make everything go down more smoothly ...
frustration, pain, hurt, whatever.
Riker stared at the bottle, then gripped it
firmly by the neck. He had looked at Tang
and asked, "Are you interested in joining me?"
Tang had placed his hands behind his back and
rocked on his heels thoughtfully. "Frankly,
sir," he had said after a moment's thought, "I
don't think you'd want me there. There are times
when
a man just wants to get stinking drunk on his
own."
Riker had nodded. "Sergeant, you're wise
beyond your rank."
"Thank you, sir. All part--"
his--ofthe service," Riker had finished along with
him.
Now Riker, alone in his quarters, poured himself
another glass. He resisted the impulse to just
swig it directly from the bottle. Somehow such
action didn't seem remotely in keeping with
Starfleet decorum. He was sure that somewhere, in
some regulations book, he had read that rule one
of being an officer was that an officer always drank from
a glass.
He tossed back another shot and tried
to remember what in hell had gotten him so
upset in the first place.
"Deanna," he said out loud, and consequently
reminded himself.
What in hell had he been thinking of,
anyway? Getting involved with a local that way.
That kind of thing never led to anything but trouble. And not
just involved, no. He'd actually had to go and get
... feelings for her.
"Not feelings," he muttered to himself, and tried
to take consolation in that. Yes, that had to be it.
He hadn't really felt anything for her. Not
really. It had all been ... been
self-delusion. An attempt to convince himself that
there was some sort of genuine love for her rattling
around in that brain of his, because that was the only
emotion that her type would accept before they would get
to the really worthwhile part of a relationship.
Yes, the worthwhile part, which was ... which was ...
He frowned. "What was the worthwhile part
again?" he said.
The door chimed.
Riker tapped his communicator. "Riker
here." He waited for a response.
The door chimed again.
Again Riker tapped his comm unit. "Riker
here," he said with growing irritation.
"Will?" came the voice of Wendy Roper through
the door.
"Speak up, Wendy," he told the
communicator. "We have a lousy connection."
"Will, I want to see you."
He shrugged. "Sure. Come on over."
The door slid open and Wendy entered. Riker
blinked in surprise. "That was fast."
Wendy didn't quite understand what he was talking
about, but didn't pretend to. "I heard you were
upset about something, W."
"Nonsense!" he declared, rising slowly to his
feet. "Do I sound upset?"
"No. Actually, you sound drunk."
"Drunk!" said Riker indignantly. "That,
young woman, is an ugly rumor, spread by people