Part 5 (1/2)

AS TROI ACCOMPANIED Security Chief Clark along one of the starbase's curving corridors, she used her Betazoid senses to locate Wolverine and probe the mutant's state of mind. What she found in him was anger and frustration, in equal parts.

The anger was primitive, instinctual-what an animal might have felt at being caged. The frustration came from the restraint he had to exercise, lest he compound his offense by attempting to tear up his cell.

”I don't mind telling you,” said Clark, ”he did quite a bit of damage.”

Troi let her empathic contact with Wolverine lapse. ”Oh?” she replied.

”Two tables, several chairs, and a replicator,” the security officer enumerated. ”And, of course, one of the bulkheads.”

The counselor looked at her. ”One of the bulkheads?”

Clark nodded.

The counselor nodded. ”I see.”

”He's just up ahead,” said Clark. She turned to her guest. ”You're sure you can handle this?”

Troi nodded. ”If the prisoner acts up, I'll just use a few Mok'bara moves on him.”

The chief looked at her. ”You're joking, right?”

The counselor didn't sense any real amus.e.m.e.nt on Clark's part. ”Trying to,” she said.

A moment later, they came in sight of the brig. Its forcefield was transparent except for an occasional white spark. As Troi got closer, she could see a pair of booted feet inside, one crossed over the other.

”Lt. Clark,” Wolverine said without turning around.

Troi took up a position in front of the brig, where she could get a good look at Wolverine. He was masked, as always.

”Counselor.” he acknowledged.

His anger was gone now. The frustration, too. A new complex of emotions was taking hold in the mutant-a mixture of happiness and relief, along with a hint of ...

Troi blushed.

Wolverine grinned. ”Ya don't know how glad I am ta see ya, Darlin'. Whatever they say I did, don't believe it.”

”They say you were acting disorderly,” the counselor told him.

The prisoner shrugged. ”All I wanted was a gla.s.s o' milk before bedtime. Izzat so much ta ask?” Troi didn't answer his question. Instead, she said, ”Captain Picard's arranged for your release.”

”Huh,” Wolverine grated. ”I knew he'd come through for us sooner or later.”

Clark glanced at the Betazoid. ”Last chance to reconsider,” she said. ”If I try real hard, I could convince the admiral to keep him here.”

Troi couldn't help chuckling a little. ”Orders are orders,” she said. ”I think you had better release him.”

Reluctantly, Clark placed her hand against a plate set into the bulkhead. Then she tapped out a command on the pad below it.

A moment later, the forcefield was gone. Wolverine put out his hand and confirmed the fact for himself. Satisfied, he grunted.

”Now that,” the mutant said, ”is more like it.” He looked at the counselor. ”Where's Picard?”

Troi gestured for Wolverine to come along.

Then, with the mutant at her side, she followed Lt. Clark back to the admiral's ready room.

As Commander Riker entered Transporter Room One, he saw Lt. Robinson manning the controls. Nodding in a friendly way to the willowy brunette, the first officer took his place beside her.

After all, the captain and their newfound guests would be beaming aboard in less than a minute. Picard had called from the starbase to say so only a little while ago.

”Sir?” said Robinson, as she checked her monitors.

Riker turned to her. ”Yes, Lieutenant?”

She looked up at him. ”Are these people-these X-Men-really as super-powerful as people say they are?”

The first officer began to say that Robinson would know as well as anyone. Then he remembered.

The lieutenant, a veteran of the EnterpriseD, hadn't remained with the crew when it launched the Enterprise-E. She had spent some time on Earth first-and had thereby missed the s.h.i.+p's crosstime battle with the Borg, not to mention its encounter with the X-Men.

”They have some unusual talents,” said Riker. ”One of them can teleport himself around. Another one can dent duranium with a single punch, and the youngest can travel through solid matter.”

”I heard one of them can fly,” Robinson told him.

The first officer chuckled. ”Like a bird.”

”Hard to believe a man can do that,” she said.

Riker shrugged. ”Not when you put them in context.”

Robinson looked at him. ”Context, sir?”

”Think about some of the other beings we've run into in our travels. Take Q, for instance.”

Their frequent visitor from the Q Continuum had demonstrated his amazing powers for them time and again. Once, he had even granted the first officer a taste of them.

”Or the Traveler,” he continued, ”who can manipulate the very fabric of s.p.a.ce and time. And don't forget the Douwd, who was able to wipe out an entire race with a single thought.”

Riker wasn't done. In fact, he was just warming up.

”Then we've got the Founders of the Gamma Quadrant, who can reshape themselves into anything they can imagine. And our own Mr. Data-who's as fast or powerful as any of the X-Men.”

The transporter operator smiled. ”Actually, I was thinking more in terms of other humans.”

He looked at her. ”What makes you think the X-Men are human?”