by Shards
"Not at all," Deanna said. "We've always kept a few Terrans working in various maintenance and landscaping positions." Lwaxana liked to have these people around to help with the facade that all of her employees were Terran rather than members of a supposedly dead race. Being that Luc was from Earth and did not possess any extrasensory abilities, her mother wouldn't consider him as a pleasure provider at the Chalice. Lwaxana Troi didn't believe that those with average mental acuity served much purpose in that area of her organization.
"Unfortunately, the grand piano in the salon is unavailable to us at the moment," Deanna continued. "But we have a slightly battered upright in the staff area." There was no need to clarify that the grand piano wasn't off limits as much as it was the salon itself where she was unwelcome. Gul Taqut was likely occupied at the moment, but one of his men was probably stationed in the entrance hall to keep watch. Not that Taqut was a high-profile target, but most of their guests liked to believe they were. For some reason, she felt that she could be honest with Luc about this, though she knew her mother would be angry if she explained the inner workings of the Chalice to a total stranger.
"No worries," Luc said, reaching into his satchel. He withdrew a carved stone box that looked to be quite ancient. "I wouldn't really know what to do with a piano, anyway. My talents lie elsewhere." He carefully placed the box on her desk and raised the lid. Inside was a copper-colored flute with silver accents. It was wrapped with a string that had a tassel on the end and altogether appeared rather delicate in its padded container. To say that this was not the type of music her mother was expecting would be an understatement, but Deanna saw no reason to stop Luc as he raised the instrument to his lips.
"I'll start with a favorite selection of my former patron," Luc said as he launched into a mournful tune. Like all Cardassian music, the song was precise and strong, if a little maudlin. It lacked any of the subtle qualities that would elicit an emotional response, preferring complicated runs and shows of dexterity over musicality. It was more like a mathematical equation brought to life than a piece of artistic interpretation. Luc's playing was technically adept, but there seemed very little feeling behind the performance, and the instrument did not really fit the tune. It was at times like this that Deanna wished she had her mother's empathic powers to help her understand the artist and comment on what was missing.
She gave a slight nod when the music ended. The music was accurate, if unemotional. Not that the Chalice received many music critics. Their clients only needed something in the background while they made their selections and went off with their temporary companions. "We also have a number of Klingon clientele," she said. "I don't suppose there are many Klingon concertos written for flute."
"You'd be surprised," Luc said. Deanna thought she caught the slightest roll of his eyes at the request. "My patron often entertained." He launched into an intensive tune that certainly evoked emotion, though technically it was little more than shrill squeals. Luc continued to abuse the delicate flute for another minute before Deanna placed a hand out to stop him.
"That's good enough," she said, formulating the nicest way to let him down easily. She hated turning away applicants, knowing their options outside the Chalice were quite limited. Then again, she could try to find a position for him in the landscaping department. Something about the man suggested that he would not have an aversion to digging in the dirt.
"I have another selection," Luc said. "Something that better showcases my abilities."
"I think I've heard all I need," Deanna said. She'd already decided that landscaping would be an acceptable offer. Her mother wouldn't be too upset with her.
"Just one more," he gently insisted. "Something a little different. From an ancient civilization, long forgotten, called Kataan."
"Kataan?" Deanna asked, enjoying the sound of the name. She knew so little of the universe outside the Chalice as it was. The idea of a forgotten civilization besides her own was exciting to hear.
"This flute is all that is left of them," Luc said with sadness in his eyes. "How I came across it...well, it's an interesting story for another time." He raised the flute to his lips again. "If I may?"
Deanna shrugged. She couldn't go anywhere until Gul Taqut's party left the establishment. "Why not?"
This brought a smile to Luc's face and a light to his eyes. It was as if her comment had breathed life into the man. He took a deep breath and began.
This time, Luc didn't launch into the music as he had the others. He slowly built the intensity, allowing the music to carry him into the piece. Closing his eyes as he played, it looked as if he were falling into the sound as it repeated and evolved. The music had a calm, pleasant tone unlike anything Deanna had heard before. It lulled her in as well.
When Luc opened his eyes again, there was a passion in them that matched the intensity of his playing. She saw how the music moved him. And she felt it in her heart.
Deanna's chair jumped back with her when she was hit by an unprecedented wave of Luc's emotions. They flooded into her, mingling with her own as the music ebbed and flowed. The screech of the metal chair produced a dissonant tone that brought Luc out of his musical trance, stopping him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, clearly afraid that he had offended her somehow with his music.
"No," she said, feeling nothing but her own surprise now. "It's just...it was very moving."
"Thank you," he said, though he stayed on alert, clearly trying to figure out what had gone wrong.
He wasn't the only one.
The Betazoid telepathic and empathic powers were nothing more than a myth to the rest of the galaxy, known by a rare few who had truly studied their histories. It was certainly not something to be discussed with a stranger. But still. Deanna wondered what it was about this man that allowed her finally to tap into what she never before thought she possessed, had been told, on many occasions by her mother, that she never would possess. It had come and gone so quickly that Deanna was already wondering if it had even happened. Looking at Luc now, she could feel nothing but her own confused emotions roiling inside her.
Deanna barely had a moment to give the matter any thought when her mother blew into the office unexpectedly. Deanna and Luc both jumped to their feet, as if Lwaxana had walked in on them in the midst of an intimate moment. Though this was the one person she could talk to about her new experience, Deanna was not ready to share it. Her mind again went through the mental exercises she'd learned as a child. The lessons her big sister, Kestra, had tried to drill into her head so many times. To protect us from Mom, Kestra had often told her, though Deanna had no idea back then what they needed protecting from.
She experienced another first as she felt the invisible walls around her mind go up immediately when she called on them. The sudden look of frustration that briefly flashed across her mother's face confirmed that she'd been successful.
"Did I interrupt?" Lwaxana asked, sounding as if she hoped that she had.
"We were just finishing up, Mother," Deanna said. "This is Luc...um, Jean-Luc Picard."
"The new pianist?" she asked.
"Flutist, actually," Deanna said.
A sneer crossed her mother's face as she looked over the man. "What would we possibly need a flute player for here?"
"Hard to go from room to room with a piano strapped to my chest," Luc said in a joke that fell flat.
Lwaxana gave him the once-over. "He's not much to look at," she said, causing Deanna to blush in embarrassment. "But since you've come all this way, I should at least interview you properly."
Luc made a move to return to their seats, but Lwaxana did not budge. Instead, she threw on her hostess persona, breaking into a huge smile and taking Luc's hands into her own. The pleasant greeting she exchanged with him carefully hid the fact that she was reaching into his mind to explore his true motivations for seeking employment. Deanna recognized the subtle traces of expression on her mother's face that revealed she was not getting all that she w
anted to know. It was like this sometimes with Terrans accustomed to a life serving the Alliance. They were inherently practiced at hiding their emotions from their masters. They didn't even realize how deep they were able to keep those secrets from even the most adept telepaths. Deanna took some pleasure from the thought that she could touch Luc's emotions in a way that her mother could not.
But Deanna had more pressing concerns at the moment as she listened to her mother run through her list of standard follow-up questions. Even though Luc answered each inquiry perfectly, she could tell that her mother was not impressed. Unless Deanna stepped in, Luc would be gone before she had the chance to understand if her newly emerging ability was related to the man in front of her.
"Well, we do have some other candidates to see," Lwaxana said, wrapping up her part of the interview. Deanna knew that it was now or never.
"Actually, Mother," Deanna said, shocking both Troi women in the room, "I was about to extend an offer for Mr. Picard to join us. With a standard contract, of course."
"You were?" Lwaxana asked, looking Luc up and down again, clearly trying to get more of a read off him.
"Yes," Deanna said firmly. "He plays beautifully."
"I am certain that he does," Lwaxana said. Deanna could feel her mother trying to break down the mental barriers to see inside her daughter's mind. Deanna had never before in her life been allowed to make a substantive decision about the running of the Sacred Chalice. Lwaxana was sure to have questions about this unexpected development.
Deanna knew she had to take a chance and let down her guard, allowing her mother inside. Remembering back to her lessons, Deanna sectioned off the surprising discovery she had made earlier and let her mother access the areas of her mind she considered safe.
The moment those invisible walls came down, Lwaxana's familiar voice filled her head. "What are you doing, Deanna?"
"You keep insisting that I take on more of a role in day-to-day operations." Deanna allowed her mother to take those words from her mind. "I thought I would start with some tasks of lesser importance."
"But I cannot get a full read on this one," Lwaxana said. "I feel as if he is hiding something."
"Isn't that true of everyone under the current regime?" Deanna silently asked in response as Luc looked on. He merely saw a mother and daughter staring each other down.
"Fine," Lwaxana replied aloud. "Mr. Picard, welcome to the Sacred Chalice. You will be directly under my daughter's supervision. We'll put you on a probationary period for the month. If it doesn't work out, I have some Klingon friends always looking for help in their mines. Please don't do anything to make me regret this."
"Thank you," Luc said as he took Lwaxana's hand again in a friendly gesture, not realizing that it only reminded Deanna of how close he'd come to losing the job.
Deanna looked on with the thrill of anticipation, mixed with some concern. Though it wouldn't have seemed so to an outside observer, she had just made a notable change in the nature of the relationship between herself and her mother. Lwaxana had already reacted with a thinly veiled threat. Deanna hoped that she wasn't making a mistake.
It had been three days since the hiring of Luc Picard, and Deanna had barely seen him since. Her mother kept finding tasks that would keep her away from the salon, as if Lwaxana suspected something was going on between them. Not that Deanna had any romantic inclinations toward the man. Her feelings for him fell squarely into a fatherly role-a relationship that had been missing from her life since her mother had chased away Ian Andrew Troi long ago.
Deanna hadn't been exposed to any more of Luc's thoughts or emotions since the interview. She was practicing every day at sending out her own thoughts to tap into his, or to anyone else's in the Chalice, but with no success. At the same time, she was building up her own mental strength for keeping her mother out of her mind. Lwaxana kept making attempts at sudden invasions with ever-increasing frequency. Deanna was getting stronger at blocking her mother out, but the mental exertions were exhausting her. Several staff members had commented on how tired Deanna had looked of late, each quietly blaming Lwaxana for the cause. They were only partially correct.
It was the dream music that had woken Deanna so early in the morning. Another tune, different from the one Luc had played for her, had seeped into her sleeping mind until her eyes flitted open in the dark room. The morning silence greeted her, causing her to wonder what part of her subconscious had created the song.
Deanna got out of bed and threw on a dressing gown for a morning stroll through the compound. She liked the early hours at the Chalice, as they were usually the most serene. The prior evening's guests had gone, and the overnight visitors had usually fallen asleep or passed out by now. She only greeted a few staff members on her walk. They were all dressed far less conservatively than she was in her nightclothes.
As she walked through the public areas of the Chalice, Deanna was startled by the sounds of the flute from her dream floating out from the garden. Her waking mind now recognized it as a lullaby that her father had sung to her as a child. It was impossible for her to have heard the music all the way in her private chambers but far too much of a coincidence not to explore. Besides, the tune could only be coming from one person.
Deanna paused at the entryway to the garden. Luc's back was to her. She didn't want to disturb him while he played. Music was never scheduled for this time of the day. And Terran music was never on the schedule at all, which is why she assumed he had risen so early to play. Lwaxana was safely in her bed in the house farthest back in the compound.
Deanna stood silently with eyes closed, allowing the music to flow into her on the gentle breeze. It shared the serene quality of the other piece that Luc had performed, but this one was faster and more playful. The notes seemed to skip over one another, racing around the garden and out to her. Deanna found herself swaying along with the tune, remembering her father-no, her entire family-sitting together in their private chambers. Her mother lying back on the divan. She and her sister on the floor, mimicking their father's song. She lost herself to the memory, until the wave of emotion overwhelmed even her own deep feelings, nearly knocking her off her feet.
Her eyes popped open as she grasped a trellis for support. The contentment that she now felt was not her own. It was a kind of peace she had never had in her own life. It washed over her, subduing her feelings of loss for her family and calming her momentary shock. But in that peacefulness, there was something else. Something darker, just underneath. If her mother were there, she would have immediately identified it. She would have forced her way into Luc's mind to explain all of this away. But the feelings were shut off as quickly as they had come. And Deanna was, once again, restricted to her own emotions.
Luc stopped playing abruptly, as if he had felt something as well. He turned to see Deanna watching him and jumped up from the bench he'd been sitting on.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought I'd be alone at this hour."
"It's hard to be alone anywhere in Mother's compound," Deanna said, not bothering to explain on how many levels that statement was true. "But you don't have to apologize. I rather enjoyed it. It was a song my father used to sing to me."
"I'm sorry," Luc said, seeing the sadness in hey eyes. "May I ask how he...?"
"Oh, he's not dead," Deanna clarified. "Just gone. He wanted to do more than this." She waved back to the Chalice and all it represented. "He wanted to work with the Terran rebels. Make a difference."
"That doesn't seem like something your mother would have liked," Luc said. He sat back on the bench, motioning for Deanna to join him.
"It made her furious," Deanna said, taking a seat. The early morning air smelled sweet in the garden. Part of that was the flowers. Part of it was the synthesized scents her mother had pumped in to add to the illusion of this Shangri-la. "But not because she's complacent. She was afraid any contact with the rebels would jeopardize what we are doing here."
"Running a pleasure palace?"
/> "Is that all you see?"
"Is there more?"
"The Sacred Chalice is known for the joys of the flesh," Deanna admitted, knowing she was about to reveal a carefully guarded secret. But if Luc was going to stay at the Chalice beyond his probationary month, the truth was bound to come out. He seemed rather perceptive. Maybe he had figured it out already.