Part 13 (1/2)

The Betazoid shook her head. ”No, thanks. I won't be staying long. There is too much I still need to take care of today.”

It reminded the first officer that even during a crisis, life went on. Troi would have her usual round of consultations and evaluations to perform, regardless of whether the captain was here or not-or what kind of political turmoil the Gorn homeworld was in.

”So,” he said, ”what brings you here in the middle of your busy day, Counselor? Not that you need an excuse, mind you.”

”You bring me here,” she replied. She glanced at the computer terminal. ”You know, you're supposed to be using this time to sleep, not to tinker.”

Riker shrugged, feeling some cramping in his shoulders where they met his neck. Reaching across his body, he kneaded the muscle on the left side with his right hand. It was as hard as a rock.

”Can't help it,” he told her. ”I was exploring my options.” He glanced again at the computer screen. ”Such as they are.”

Coming around to a position directly behind him, Troi peered past him at the screen. ”Bon Amar?” she asked. ”The Bajoran pirates?”

”The pirates,” he confirmed. ”Deanna, would you mind ... ?”

Before he could even finish the question, he felt her remove his hand from his shoulder muscle. In the next breath, her fingers probed along either side of his neck with just the right amount of firmness.

Of course, she was an empath. She could feel what he was feeling, even as he was feeling it, and make whatever minute adjustments were necessary. In the time it would take someone else just to figure out where the ache was, Troi would have already made it go away.

”The Bon Amar,” she reminded him, making small, circular forays into the muscular trouble spots. ”Am I to understand that they represent one of your options?”

Riker stared at the screen and sighed. ”They could,” he told her, ”if I allow them to. Apparently, Ro knows how to contact them. She offered me their services in locating Captain Picard.”

The Betazoid played the cords at the base of his neck like piano keys, loosening them up a bit more. ”And will you take her up on her offer?”

He shook his head. ”I don't think so. I keep trying to imagine what the captain would do in my place. And I can't see him enlisting outlaws in his cause-no matter how right or important that cause might be.”

”The ends wouldn't justify the means?” Troi suggested.

Riker nodded. ”Something like that.”

Now that he was somewhat relaxed, she dug a little deeper. ”And what about Geordi? What sort of progress is he making?”

The first officer frowned. He could see Troi's face reflected in the computer screen, superimposed over the data on the Bon Amar. She was frowning, too.

”Not enough,” he confided. ”And there's a problem now with the station. Some sort of power surges, which could destroy the equipment at any moment. And if the equipment goes ...” He allowed his voice to trail off meaningfully.

The Betazoid nodded. ”I see.”

Her fingers delved as deep as the epicenters of his discomfort. Riker winced at the pain she aroused with her explorations, grateful for her a.s.sistance.

”And,” she went on, ”the situation on Gorn doesn't seem to be getting any better. Two days is not a lot of time when you are searching so large an area.”

”No,” he agreed, ”it's not.” He could feel his nostrils flare with frustration. ”Deanna ... between you and me ... I don't think we're going to make it.”

Troi paused in her ma.s.sage for just a fraction of a second-but Riker was aware of it. ”You don't think we're going to find the captain? But just the other day ...”

”I know,” he told her. ”I was confident.Hopeful.Despite the odds, I wasn't going was the other day. Today, I've got bad feeling.” A very bad feeling.

In the next moment, he felt simultaneous, tiny bursts of agony-one on either side of his neck. Then the pain was gone. Just like that.

Reaching up, he grasped one of Troi's hands. It felt good in his. Slim and soft as it was, he took strength from it. And she left it there just long enough before reclaiming it.

”Of course,” she said, ”you could change the odds. You could exercise the option that Ensign Ro has put in front of you.”

He turned in his chair to look up at her. ”They're outlaws,” he reminded her.

Troi's dark eyes fixed on him. ”Yes. But they could also be the captain's salvation.”

”Then if you were me,” Riker asked, ”you'd bend the rules? You'd ask the Bon Amar for help?”

The Betazoid smiled wistfully. ”I'm not you, Will.”

And yet, he had a feeling which way she'd go.

The first officer grunted. ”Thanks, Counselor. For your help-all of it.”

Troi shrugged, gently patting Riker on the shoulder. ”It's my job,” she said, ”to lend support to my commanding officer in times of duress.”

He returned her smile. ”And you're d.a.m.ned good at it.”

Then she was on her way to the door, and those other responsibilities that awaited her. Riker waved to her as she departed, leaned forward in his chair, and eyed the computer screen.

The Bon Amar...

”Last time, I got the impression Commander Hronsky wasn't so eager to see me down there,” noted Picard.

They were descending the metal stairs that led to the colony's sensor control facility. Julia looked back at him and winked.

”I don't think he'll notice,” she said. ”He's too busy accepting congratulations from everyone. Besides, he's always been a lot more close-to-the-vest than he has to be. I mean, you're not exactly a Romulan spy.”

No, the captain agreed silently. He was something a good deal more dangerous, though he certainly wasn't about to say so.

”Congratulations?” he echoed. ”For what?”

”That would be telling,” she noted. ”And I promised not to do that.”

Fortunately, he wouldn't be kept in the dark for long. With Julia taking the lead, they entered the control center-only to find the place even more crowded than the last time Picard had been there.

In the middle of it all, Hronsky was holding up his hands for silence. ”Calm down now,” he was saying, though his expression said that he wanted anything but calm. ”We don't know anything about them yet. We just know they're there.”

Them? Abruptly, the captain felt a trickle of ice water slide down his back. Could it be that Hronsky had ... ?

”Then the rumors were true,” observed a man with thinning hair and a red beard.

”Apparently,” replied the chief engineer.

”Are they s.p.a.cefaring?” a woman asked.

”As I said,” Hronsky told her, ”we don't know a thing. What we've hit on could be an entire civilization or an outpost world of something much larger. There's just no way to tell at this point.”