Will gritted his teeth, jammed an elbow into a charging woman, and swung the rifle like a propeller to keep others away. He needed to pause and take a look around him. Wherever they were, it was in the late hours of the night. Dawn would be breaking over the horizon shortly.
People were mixing it up on the main street and several side streets. Kyle was using his hands to literally lift fighters off one another and push them aside. Women, teenagers, and men were in the fight together, creating odd-looking combinations. Will started to lower the rifle when he saw one man approach his father from behind, a deadly looking piece of metal in his hands. Quickly, Will adjusted his arms and released the rifle, letting it spin. An instant before the man could swing, the rifle smacked him in the back and caused him to cry out in pain. Alerted now, Kyle turned and used the man’s off-balance position to knock him down.
Father and son exchanged satisfied glances and then resumed their efforts.
“Where are these weapons coming from? I thought this was a residential community.”
Kyle shrugged and reached into a mass of people to pull several apart. He smiled and reached in again.
He’s enjoying this, Will realized. His father was actually getting some perverse sort of pleasure from doing something that was merely providing a short-term solution. While Will never shied away from a battle, he certainly didn’t go looking for one either.
A young girl watched as her father got clubbed to the ground. She shrieked and leapt onto the attacker’s back, trying to pull out his hair. A man came to the attacker’s defense, reaching to roughly pull the girl off. The father, from a kneeling position, reached out, waving a knife to protect his daughter.
Will realized this was never going to end without some form of planetwide intervention. Still, he felt compelled to save as many lives as he could. With a deep breath, he ran over to the crowd, kicking out to push the intended victim away from the knife. He then reached down and with a judo move forced the man to release the knife. His booted foot stepped on it, preventing anyone else from reaching it.
“Take your father and go home,” Will ordered the girl. She nodded once and reached to help the man to his feet.
Will was absorbed in the moment, unaware of the sounds around him.
He didn’t see men rushing from both sides to come to the downed man’s aid.
He couldn’t see that one man was aiming a phaser directly at his head.
He didn’t hear the warning cry.
All Will Riker saw was a girl comforting her father as they staggered away. Then all of a sudden he was being pushed to the ground. As he fell backward, he heard the familiar whine of a phaser firing. Then there was a limp form on top of him.
Then all he heard were footsteps receding and screams in the night air.
Riker struggled to move the body off him, concerned that there was someone out there with a phaser, unable to reach his own. His nose wrinkled at the odor of seared flesh as he rolled the body off his legs.
And only then did he recognize his father’s body. In a flash, Will understood that Kyle had seen his son endangered and had acted, sacrificing himself.
It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.
His father’s vacant eyes were dull. There was no peace in those eyes. Just a look of anguish.
Will tried to control his breathing, assess the circumstances, and act like an officer. But his eyes were wet, blurring his vision.
Boys don’t cry. His father told him that endlessly in the early years after Ann died. And since then, Will had not allowed himself tears. He blinked them back, but one escaped, trickling down his cheek and disappearing into his gray-flecked beard.
Will stood, withdrawing his phaser and looked about. People struggled here and there, but clearly the worst was over. None came near him, and that was just fine by Will.
Imzadi.
If he ever needed Deanna by his side, it was now. With his father dead at his feet, no way to contact the Enterprise, and far from the capital. He stood lost and alone.
Looking down at the body and the black sear that ran from Kyle’s left shoulder blade down his back, a part of Will analyzed the phaser setting. Part of him wanted to look away.
We never resolved this crisis, Will thought. He’ll never know how this plays out. Kyle’s strategic expertise was now lost to the Federation and no doubt would be needed. The galaxy was far from stable and people like Kyle had to look at the big picture. His father was always looking to the stars, reading something in their alignment that no one else could fathom. That skill was gone.
A future that might have been was snuffed out in an instant. After so many years of estrangement, the wall between them had started to crumble and let light seep through. Will had dared to hope. Now it was gone.
He was lost.
Will was so mired in his own thoughts that he didn’t register the sound of a transporter beam. It was only after arms wrapped around him from behind that his mind registered a warmth.
“Will,” Deanna said.
He turned, despite being squeezed tighter, and somehow his lover was there. He needed her and she had come and he rested a tired head atop her own. They stood together in silence.
Beside them, trying to give them privacy, Christine Vale knelt by Kyle’s body and studied it. She focused on the injury and then checked his body for potential weapons or boobytraps. All she found was a piece of technology she didn’t immediately recognize and put it aside to study later.
It was time to return to the Enterprise.
Chapter Ten
TROPP RAPIDLY RUBBED his hands together, generating some friction to warm them. He couldn’t wear insulated gloves since he needed his fingers to reach inside the Dorset woman’s chest. When he had received the call from Gracin, Tropp had just settled down with his first real meal in two days. Things had calmed down enough for the duty personnel to be given time off, and his first thought had been of a nice, hot meal.
Which was why Gracin called. Tropp was sure of it.
A building partially collapsed, killing some people and stranding others in their rooms. Tropp figured the place was either a large inn or a small hotel. Regardless. When he materialized by the rubble, Gracin told him the old structure had been the victim of a natural disaster. There was nothing sinister, based on tricorder readings.
Starship crew were busily pulling debris away, creating openings to allow rescue staff to enter. Gracin saw to it that medical personnel were each assigned a security officer so they could work unimpeded.
No sooner did an entrance appear than Tropp was through it, his wrist light casting eerie shadows. The hallway was filled with bodies, torn paintings, random clothing, and unidentifiable debris. His tricorder found the first life sign five meters to his left. He moved gingerly over cracked paneling and quickly looked ahead to make certain there were no exposed circuits.
When he found the woman, her saw her chest had been crushed by falling objects. She was breathing raggedly, but there was still hope.
And here he was, carefully reaching into her wound, gingerly removing dirt and bits of debris. He paused every few moments to use an antiseptic spray to keep the wound clean. The work was slow, but she continued to breathe shallowly and her pulse remained steady.
As he concentrated on his work, Tropp heard a great deal of noise behind him. He shut it away, thinking only of the woman. The doctor took comfort from the notion that he had a guard watching his back.
The noise grew louder and finally, he used the spray and looked up. The guard was relaxed, his phaser pointed down, and he was watching down the hall, the way they had entered. Tropp twisted around and dropped his mouth open in surprise.
A motley collection of Bader and Dorset people were pulling away debris, others shoring up the entrance with fresh-cut wood. They were smiling and working hard, but with purpose and pleasure. Tropp shook his head in disbelief. Crusher’s formula had worked. The people were shoving their natural tendencies back into their private boxes and were
once again calm and cooperative.
He returned to work on the woman, smiling through the entire procedure.
Picard had fallen asleep in the Council chamber while waiting for reports to arrive from around the globe. The chairs weren’t particularly comfortable, but exhaustion had finally caught up with him.
Carmona, somehow still on duty, gently prodded the captain awake. He was instantly alert and grinned a little sheepishly for letting himself nod off.
“It’s the Enterprise, sir. They’ve found the commander.”
Picard’s eyes widened at the good news, but the security officer’s face didn’t seem to match the good tidings.
“Kyle Riker, though, is dead. Both are back on board.”
Picard stood up and went to a corner for privacy. He contacted Data and was quickly filled in on what had happened only an hour’s flight away. A part of him was pleased that father had saved son, but it was still a tragic and needless loss. He wondered briefly what reaction this would bring from Admiral Upton. Well, they had discussed what a mess of a mission this was likely to be, and now the prophetic words rang true.
Riker was sleeping, Troi was staying on board to be nearby, and Crusher was tending to the body. He’d talk to them all later.
“What of the cure?”
“Reports from the capital show that people are calming down. There are fewer outbreaks being reported.”
“Well, that’s something. With Dr. Crusher occupied, please see to it Dr. Wasdin receives all our data.”
“A link has already been established.”
“Very good. I’ll remain here for a little while. Picard out.”
He saw Morrow and Seer enter the chamber, chatting. Neither looked as if he had slept, but they were certainly animated about something. In fact, the protocol officer seemed downright excited, and that piqued the captain’s interest.
“Something of note, gentlemen?”
“Seer has already outlined the beginnings of a repair program for the entire planet, and it makes remarkable sense,” Morrow said.
“You’re surprised?” Seer smiled wearily.
“Let’s just say that our experiences with the Council didn’t lead us to expect such energetic activity.”
“Ah, I can see that, having served in the past. Well, without my normal duties to perform, I just used the time wisely. Captain, what’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Oh, I just received news from the ship. You’ll be happy to know that we’ve found Mr. Riker and he’s back aboard. However, his father was killed while saving his son.”
“That’s terrible,” Morrow said, shock crossing his youthful features.
“The final duty,” Seer said solemnly.
The three men discussed the circumstances, and talking about it made the captain feel a little better.
The next few hours passed quickly. Reports were finally coming in from a number of peace officers and medical personnel that matters were finally settling down. In fact, since the shuttles began orbiting the world, no new fires, explosions, or acts of sabotage had been recorded. Picard took cold comfort from the news.
“Captain, we have begun tallying the damage,” Jus Renks Jus told him at one point.
Picard put down his cup of coolar, the closest thing the planet had to tea. He looked a question at the tall Speaker. The Dorset man spoke quickly, droning on about pipelines, power grids, public and private property losses, and other damage that would need attention in the coming days and weeks. The captain concluded that the planet sounded like the rest of the Federation. Even four years after the Dominion War’s end, the rebuilding was continuing. This world had not been caught in the conflict, had in fact prospered because it had much-needed food supplies. And now they were as damaged as the others.
“Actually, Speaker, I believe Seer has already outlined repair programs that are quite promising,” Picard told the man.
Genuinely surprised, the Speaker looked around the room until he spotted Seer speaking with one of the women councillors. He nodded to Picard and hurried over to the protocol officer.
Progress, at last, Picard thought. He wondered what would have happened had the leadership actually started preparing the populace sooner. How much damage could have been avoided?
He watched Seer hand over a padd with the information and then walk away from the Speaker, who studied the results. Picard sought out the protocol officer and offered him a fresh mug of coolar.
“How did you manage to assemble the information so much faster than the Council?”
“Cainam, one of the aides, has been bringing me quarter-hourly reports. It was easy for me to assess continent by continent what needed doing.”
Picard shook his head in amazement.
“Will Renks follow your plan?”
“I honestly believe he will. He’s always been one of the more rational councillors I’ve dealt with.”
“The Council has to rebuild, I agree, but then they need to plan. Delta Sigma IV will not always be able to avoid conflicts with other races.”
“Will and I discussed a lot of that while we flew. And your ambassador and I have also been chatting.”
“Sounds like you want to have a more active role.”
“Maybe it’s my own aggressive personality coming to the fore. Maybe not. Still, I never wanted to leave the Council. And now that there’s a vacancy, I find that I want to take a more integral part.”
“Your planet needs you. I applaud the decision.”
Seer smiled at the vote of confidence. “Now I just have to share the news with Dorina.”
“Will that cause a problem?”
“I intend to have the conversation before the ambassador leaves, just in case I need help,” Seer said with a laugh.
Picard smiled. For the first time he felt a glimmer of hope that the planet would survive. It would have the time it needed to rebuild and then decide its fate.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw a form materialize near the center of the room. Years of experience told him it was Beverly Crusher, and he smiled in preparation.
“How’s Will?” Picard asked immediately.
“Still sleeping. I checked in with Deanna before beaming down,” she replied.
“Good. What news?”
“It’s working,” she said simply. “It’s spreading, although about thirteen percent slower than the simulations indicated. But I think we can live with that.”
Picard nodded. “So do I.”
“Good. If you’ll excuse me, I want to go over the findings with Wasdin.”
“Of course. I’ll be here if you need me.” He watched her walk off. His confidence in a successful end to the situation was rising rapidly.
Crusher quickly left the compound and headed directly for Wasdin’s office, each step bringing her closer to concluding the mission. A moment too late for Kyle Riker…and possibly for the entire planet.
When she had received the signal from Vale, her heart had dropped, but she had immediately switched to her professional mode and personally met the body in the transporter room. Nafir had had the good grace not to say anything and mutely watched as Deanna helped Will from the platform and Vale waited with the body. Kyle was placed on the antigrav pallet, and Nurse Weinstein carefully walked it back to sickbay. No one had said a word; there really wasn’t anything to say.
As expected, her sensors had told her exactly what she expected: death had been caused by a phaser blast. However, her exam had also revealed numerous fresh cuts, scrapes, and abrasions, so whatever Kyle had been doing, he had certainly been active. She had raised her eyebrows at the number of older wounds and broken bones. She had always thought Kyle was a thinker, but his body told her otherwise. Crusher never got to know him, and now her curiosity would never be satisfied.
Entering the medical facility reminded her all over again about the possibilities of having similar research equipment at her disposal should she choose Earth over the Enterprise. With things winding down, the t
ime was coming when she had to organize her thoughts and make a decision.
“Dr. Crusher, I’m thrilled you came in person.”
With Wasdin’s words, Crusher put her own issues aside and smiled at the worn, older woman. She handed over an active padd.
“Everything is there, from my research to the telemetry from our sensors. You can follow the progress further from your own satellite network.”
“At least the fighting couldn’t reach them,” Wasdin remarked.
“Small favors. How are things here?”
“Ah, not so bad. Those high doses you sprayed here have certainly taken hold. I certainly don’t feel like hitting anyone anymore.”
“That’s comforting to hear,” Crusher said. Inwardly, she winced at the notion that Wasdin, like millions of others, were being drugged back to peace. She reran the arguments in her head again and again, and no doubt would for some time to come. While things had improved for the people, she remained uncertain that effectively drugging a world would be well received by Yerbi Fandau, or by the Federation itself.
Those were going to be debates for another day.
“Hand me the scope,” Hoang asked.
Porter nodded and gave her the device without comment. Hoang appreciated the silence; it gave her a chance to concentrate. Things had calmed down over the last few hours, and she had worked straight through the night to help repair the power station.
Taurik wanted to make sure the station would work for the long term, so every circuit, conduit, and isolinear chip would have to be checked. Porter had regulated much of the power flow, and Taurik followed both of their accomplishments with diagnostic checks.
Studdard and Clemons volunteered to remain on hand to watch them while other members of the security detail had rotated back aboard the ship for rest.
Hoang took comfort in seeing Studdard’s broad, smiling face every time she emerged from behind panels. She actually caught herself wiping some grease off her cheek before standing up to accept the scope from Porter. What she was feeling, she knew, was good, yet she wondered if it was all right for her to feel good over a simple smile.
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