Crusher was tired, and she wasn’t sure if it was sheer physical exhaustion or the result of having spent too many tense hours in front of the microscope. She decided to grant herself a break and breezily told Nurse Susan Weinstein she was going for a brief walk.
The walk, which qualified as brief—taking under four minutes—led her to the nearest rec room. It held only six people, several playing a board game, one reading something on a display screen, and Geordi just turning from the replicator slot, a plate in his hand.
“Can I join you, Geordi?”
“Sure thing, I’ll be over here,” he said, tilting his head toward an empty table in the rear corner.
Crusher ordered a cup of coffee, her fourth of the day, and brought it to La Forge’s table. La Forge hadn’t waited to tuck into his jambalaya.
“Hungry?”
“Sort of. I have a busy few hours ahead of me, so this is my last chance for a real meal.”
“What brings you up here to this particular rec room?”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret. I have absolutely no idea why, but if you want something spicy, these replicators do the best job.”
Crusher let out a small laugh. She then asked what was happening in his domain. He explained the problem with the injector and the supply issues he had been wrestling with.
“I had no idea,” she said, amazed at the notion that something so big was happening without her knowledge.
“Well, you are busy with your own problems,” La Forge said helpfully.
“Still, we’re department heads; we have to be aware of things going on with this ship.” She shook her head, staring at her cup. “I don’t even think I wanted this, but I ordered it out of habit. Been living on caffeine the last two days.”
“Still going crazy with casualties?”
“That’s slowed to a trickle. Tropp has been down below, helping them work with emergencies. While their police seem inefficient, their medical resources are top-notch.”
“Guess that happens when you have a peaceful society.”
“Some peace.” She laughed bitterly. “They claim to have put their aggression aside, but they have no idea they were doped by the plant life. Telling them isn’t going to be easy for the captain.”
“Is there something you can do?”
“That’s what I’m working on now. I stepped out to clear my head a bit. Actually, I’m glad I ran into you, since I could use some advice.”
La Forge’s eyes widened and he grinned. “The doctor asking the engineer for advice? This is new.”
“Very funny. Seriously, Geordi, something’s come up, and I need some perspective. You and I have served on both Enterprises with Jean-Luc since Farpoint. How much longer do you give it before it’s down to just one or two of us with him?”
La Forge put a spoonful of food into his mouth as his brows knit in concentration. “Hunh. I hadn’t given that one some thought in a while,” he admitted, clearly surprised by the topic.
“Come on, I’m sure it’s crossed all our minds since he wrangled with Command over the demon ship.” She sipped from her mug, waiting for a comment.
“Well, I guess it crossed my mind then, but things changed so rapidly, it wasn’t a deep thought. Except for Worf, our command staff has been pretty stable. Sooner or later, one of us will get an offer they can’t refuse.”
She smiled at him. “That might be me. The surgeon general is retiring soon, and he asked me to consider replacing him. If I want it, he’ll support me. He already has the Federation council’s thumbs-up.”
“That’s very impressive. Will it hurt that you held the position once and gave it up after just a year?”
“Maybe, but not damaging enough to prevent it,” she replied. “But I don’t know if I’m ready to walk away from the ship. Then again, I don’t know if I want to be the last officer remaining.”
Geordi took another mouthful of the colorful Creole food, chewed, and thought. Beverly looked at her coffee, considered taking another sip, and then pushed it aside.
“We’re all getting older, and sooner or later, yeah, either we’ll get ambitious or Starfleet will need some of us elsewhere. So I guess I’d say go for it before they give you an assignment you don’t want. We’ll still be around the galaxy to visit.”
Crusher considered his advice and the wisdom of taking charge of her destiny.
Then he asked, “What does the captain think?”
She shook her head, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t had a chance to bring it up. We have been a little busy, you know.” It was natural for La Forge to ask; it would if their roles were reversed, the first thing she’d bring up was whether or not he’d discussed it with Data.
“Of course,” he agreed.
He was keeping the conversation professional, and not referring to her and Picard’s personal relationship. He knew he could mention it without offending—they had known each other long enough—but he was being a gentleman.
“And what if Wesley drops by again and I’m back on Earth?”
“He’s a Traveler these days, Doc. He’ll always find you.”
Crusher took comfort in those words and held on to them as she returned to her office and the monumental task Picard asked of her.
Testani’s flames had long since been extinguished thanks to the combined efforts of firefighting teams from neighboring towns. Still, as Vale materialized, the odor of charred building materials hung thickly in the air. Whatever was used to construct homes on any world, the smell of destruction seemed pretty much the same.
She looked around, saw a heavy-duty blue-and-white flyer take off to return to its base, the job complete. People, despite the late hour and the chill in the air, were cordoned off behind barricades, and the local peace officers were assessing the damage. From early reports she had scanned aboard the Enterprise, about twenty-five percent of the city had been destroyed. The rebuilding would take months.
Seo, the field leader for the team assigned to Testani, came running up to her. He skidded to a stop and waited at attention. Vale thought he was taking his first field post way too seriously. There was a time and place for behavior conforming to the rulebook, but this wasn’t one of them.
“What’s the status?”
“Fires are out throughout the city, ma’am,” he reported in a clipped tone.
“Relax, Jae. Take a deep breath. What’s really going on?”
He took a deep breath and willed himself to release the tension in his body. “People are blaming each other, blaming us, blaming everyone except maybe the Klingons. They’re upset; no one can even remember anything this monumental happening in the city.”
“Do all the locals have someplace to sleep tonight?” Vale wanted to yawn, breathed in deeply instead. She needed to keep pushing herself until things were more under control.
“We’re working on that right now. T’Sona’s coordinating with the local relief people.”
“Good. Now, what about the water pumping station? That got trashed pretty good, from the reports.”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s a mess, but Commander La Forge’s team is almost done.”
At that she cocked an eyebrow in surprise. She knew La Forge’s people were good, but this was even faster than she had expected. With a gesture, she indicated she wanted to see for herself. Seo—lithe but muscular—hurried to keep ahead of her to both guide and protect. He was more nervous than he should be, but that wasn’t entirely unexpected given his recent posting.
As they passed a barricade, she was heckled by those who rightly assumed she was a leader from the starship. Vale ignored the taunts and continued moving.
A few minutes later, the noise began to abate as they moved farther into an industrial portion of the town, one the fire had not touched. Vandals, though, had paid a visit earlier, and that was when the water station was wrecked. En route, Vale took note of the dropped weapons, debris, and various dark fluids that stained the area. Whenever the
healing began, the people were certainly going to be kept busy.
Finally, Seo slowed down as a very wide, obsidian-black building appeared around a corner. At least a dozen fat, dark gray pipes connected the building to the street and to other buildings. Graffiti marred some of the pipes, and one was damaged. Water leaked out of it at a steady rate, reminding her of a fountain she had seen on her last shore leave. Atop the pipe, working with a welding tool, was one of the engineers. Below, DeMato, looking alert, kept a watch.
She strode over to the other woman, who was several inches shorter, and they greeted one another. DeMato, with a nasal twang to her voice, reported, “It’s almost done. That’s the last pipe to be fixed.”
“Great news,” Vale said. “What’s happening inside?”
“Caldwell’s there with two more damage control specialists. They’re making certain that the pumps still work.”
“Have there been more protesters?”
“None, and I gotta say that’s a good thing. I’ve been at this for hours, and I want my lunch.”
Vale stopped, looked at the night sky, which remained obstinately black, and smiled. “Well, you’ll be off duty in time for breakfast. Best I can do.”
The other woman nodded, her full head of hair moving freely around her face. “What’s happening?” A natural enough question, although, for some reason, its lack of specificity annoyed Vale. She guessed she was letting the hours catch up to her, too.
“More of the same around the world. The captain’s with the Council; the doctor is trying to find a miracle. The usual.”
The three security officers continued chatting for several minutes, all appreciating the respite. However, their rest ended abruptly when the engineer, Beloq, cried out a warning.
Vale whipped around, her hand already going for her phaser, when she heard the sound. People—lots of angry people. Another mob was on its way, having somehow broken through the barricade. She practically bellowed into her badge for Caldwell to join them outside. Going silent then, she began scanning the immediate area and started pointing. Seo was dispatched to a corner position, behind supply canisters, where he could flank the mob. DeMato was sent to the opposite side, setting up a possible crossfire.
Caldwell, her blond hair flying behind her, came charging out of the building, leaving the doorway wide open. Vale signaled to her, indicating she should join her right below Beloq.
“Are you done?” she yelled up to the Bolian engineer.
“Done enough for the water to flow. If you ask me—”
“Then get back to the ship!” Vale interrupted. The last thing she needed was to be distracted by a chatty mechanic. She tightened her grip on her phaser and listened carefully. She heard the approaching people and then the telltale whine of the transporter effect. Good, one less person to worry about. She presumed the other engineers inside would have the smarts to get out of the way.
The people emerged from around the corner, and Vale saw they were armed. In fact, they were fairly well equipped, almost as if someone had organized them into a fighting force. Several brandished knives, a few seemed to have pistols of some sort, and others had sharpened pikes made from, it seemed, tree limbs. They were not here to protest the Federation’s presence; they were here only for violence.
“Stun setting only,” she called out. It was a needless reminder, but she wanted her people to focus.
She then walked toward the mob.
Several in the front pointed and shouted as they spotted her in the dim light. Vale intentionally made herself the target, walking at a steady pace until she reached a spot less than ten meters from the people in front.
“Can I convince you to go home and let us finish repairs?”
“Sabotage is more like it! You’ve poisoned the people! You killed El Bison El, and now you want to take the rest of us!”
“Federation bitch!”
“Really,” Vale said, keeping her tone light even as her body tensed. “Name-calling will not get you your water any faster. If you don’t disperse, I will have to open fire.”
“You can take down a few of us, but we outnumber you!”
“Have it your way,” Vale said. She raised her weapon in full sight of the other security team and fired a wide dispersal stun beam.
As expected, several staggered and fell, others scattered. Those on the periphery saw this as their chance and rushed her. They got close, closer than Vale would have liked, but then came powerful amber beams from DeMato and Seo’s positions. The security chief herself kept firing directly into the mob. Finally, people got the idea that scattering and retreating might be the best thing to do.
Some, though, clearly wanted a fight. They charged toward the flanking guards, but Vale’s people were able to take clean shots, bringing down one Delta Sigma IV inhabitant after another. Still, one woman reared back and hurled her sharpened branch at DeMato, who was concentrating on a man in closer range.
The wet sound the spike made as it pierced DeMato’s abdomen could be heard across the tarmac, followed less than a second later by her scream. Vale broke from her point position and fired at anyone near the fallen woman. She saw blood flowing freely from the entry wound, darkening DeMato’s uniform. It looked bad.
Seo and Caldwell were behind her, providing protective fire. Most of the mob had either fallen or dispersed, so the din had lessened dramatically, which only emphasized the gasping sounds from DeMato as she struggled for breath.
“Emergency transport to sickbay,” Vale said as she slapped DeMato’s badge. As the beam took hold of the woman, Vale felt the sticky blood on her fingertips and wiped them on her pants.
She then turned and spotted Seo and Caldwell within meters of her, their backs turned, keeping her covered. At that moment, she also saw that two members of the mob were entering the plant. “Get them!” she commanded.
As Caldwell ran back into the building, Seo took up a position by the entrance to make sure no one else made it inside. He picked off three more people as Vale surveyed the area, looking for anyone trying to be sneaky. She saw no movement, but she crept around the perimeter to be safe.
Finally returning to the entrance, she and Seo stood by, assuming Caldwell could manage two crazed people. That assumption proved false. Hearing the sounds of a struggle, Vale pointed for Seo to remain in place and dashed inside, expecting the worst.
What she saw sickened her. One of the engineers had not returned to the ship, but was lying on the ground with a head injury. Caldwell was on her back, wrestling with one of the Dorset attackers, a burly male who was fighting in a frenzied way. Vale quickly scanned for the other native and nodded to herself when she spotted him. He had gone up the catwalk to one of the control stations that managed the pumps on this side of the building. With a metal rod, he was trying unsuccessfully to pry open the casing.
Vale returned her attention to Caldwell. She grunted, took three steps, and lashed out with her right boot, smacking the attacker off balance and giving Caldwell the edge she needed to break free. Without pausing to see the rest of the bout, Vale found a good angle, took aim, and fired at the man above her.
The phaser blast rang out with a satisfying sound, and her aim was true as it hit the man. It also hit the machinery, edges of which were finally wearing away from the constant battering. Some of the ambient energy seeped inside, overloading the fragile circuits. The man slumped, hitting the ground about the same time the cascading energy surge knocked out the pumps.
Vale holstered her phaser, put her hands on her knees, and bent low, catching her breath. With a glance, she saw that Caldwell had lived up to expectations and subdued her opponent. The downed engineer was starting to come around.
“Vale to Enterprise.”
“Data here, Lieutenant.”
“I need Beloq back. The pumps are damaged once more. Also, status on DeMato, please.”
“I am relaying your request to Mr. La Forge,” Data said. “Sickbay reports Ensign DeMato is not expected to
survive.” It sounded worse coming from an android, without any inflection. Vale took several deep breaths, fighting back emotion. Caldwell, having also heard the announcement, bent her head down.
“Damn,” they both whispered.
Chapter Three
PICARD STRODE DOWN the corridor, his boots making clacking sounds against the tile. His swift, steady pace gave no hint of the anger that was smoldering deep within. He had been crossing the same space, back and forth, since beaming down hours ago. The day was waning, and he needed to get the feeling that some form of progress was being made. First, he had visited with the Dorset and then had gone to the Bader’s makeshift operation across the courtyard.
The captain couldn’t argue with their belligerence, since, after all, it was only their true nature seeping through. What made his task more difficult was that he had yet to reveal the true source of their problem, because he wanted to explain it only after a solution was available. While he waited for a medical solution, the situation on Delta Sigma IV continued to worsen. With each flare-up, he was sure the planet would be plunged into a bloody civil war.
After listening to a litany of concerns from Cholan of Huni, the designated spokesman for the Bader side, he was now heading back to hear more from Jus Renks Jus, the Speaker for the now divided Council. An aide, having heard Picard’s approach, opened the door with a weary smile. If anything had improved, it was the morale among the Bader and Dorset clerical staff, since Troi had been talking to them almost exclusively. They had offered up opinions and observations that demonstrated in-depth knowledge about the workings of the world, giving her and Picard a better understanding.
Not that any of that information was proving useful right this minute. With cities in flames or out of power and water, the infrastructure under attack, and racial battles growing by the hour, Picard needed to find a plan of action that would stem the violence and buy Dr. Crusher the time she needed. The captain knew he asked a lot of his chief medical officer, but there was little choice.
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