The Next Generation
Dimensions 2 - Romulas - Part 6
by B.J. Burton
(bjburtoncanada@yahoo.com)

Dimensions 2 - Romulas - Part 6

SYNOPSIS:

Commander Deanna Troi Rozhenko is rescued

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard slowly rose to his feet and moved to the long windows of the observation lounge of the Starship Enterprise. He felt drained. Everything looked the same beyond the plasteel, he thought, the stars still glittering like diamonds against black velvet, yet nothing was the same, and possibly would never be again. He could feel the deep melancholy emanating from his crew sitting stiffly, and silently behind him. He knew they blamed him for their missing crewman, but what could he have done differently? He sighed and turned resiliently only to find himself meeting the gaze of Commander Riker, his first officer. He felt his brief spurt of energy drain again; Riker looked as if he hadn't slept; his rugged features were haggard and ashen. Jean-Luc had to admit his first officer had not looked well since they had beamed back from the Klingon Warbird. He had been so positive and excited when they first returned, having accomplished the special mission both to the Valo system and his rushed return to Earth, and then he was told the awful truth, that Deanna Troi Rozhenko was MIA.

Jean-Luc pulled his gaze away from his haggard first officer to glance down the table at his Command officers. Beverly Crusher sat with her head lowered unable to look at the two empty chairs adjacent to her; a grim reminder of two missing members of their crew. No Command officer could presume a given place at the conference table, except for himself as Captain, at the head. He regarded each member of his crew as equal, free to sit where they preferred or in which ever chair was available when they arrived. Each member of his command staff were free to offer advice or dissention wherever their place at the table. An officer usually sat in the most convenient chair, but to-day two chairs had been deliberately left vacant; the chair to the left of his own, the chair most often chosen by Deanna and the chair next to her, left vacant in respect for her distraught husband. He did not like the reminder...a reminder that she may be lost to them.

As he moved back to his chair his mind wandered to thoughts of Q, the mysterious being, often the bane of his existence, from the Time Continuum. A year ago that strange alien had transported him forward twenty-five years to witness his future. On that timeline, he suddenly recalled with horror, Deanna Troi was dead. When he had traveled forward he had never thought to query how she died; Q only advised him that she had died soon after they had moved forward in time. Were they still on that time line, he wondered, or had they changed that future and moved on to another? He recalled that on that time line, like their current threat, there was a war between the Romulans and Klingons, a war that had begun many years before, when the Klingons had over-run the Romulan Empire. Was that about to happen now or would Deanna's sacrifice stop that confrontation, or had her death then occurred under the same circumstances?

The sound of voices in the corridor pulled Jean-Luc back to the present with a jolt. He sat down angrily vowing to make sure her sacrifice was not in vain.

Ambassador Spock and Emperor Kahless entered the observation lounge deep in conversation. Jean-Luc was not surprised, yet their camaraderie was strange to see: the elder Vulcan statesman and Klingon warrior seemed to have an understanding. He wondered what they could find in common. Was it the implanted genetic memories of the past life of the cloned Klingon leader...or was it the life the Vulcan had led when a science officer so long ago on board the Enterprise B? Both had lived in another era. Was it perhaps the Klingon Spiritual leaders understanding of "cowboy" diplomacy? The Captain shook his head to rid his mind of such trivialities. All that was missing now, he thought, was Chancellor Martok and he was due to arrive at any moment with his new deputy, M'bok.

Jean-Luc knew this was not going to be an easy meeting with the Klingon Chancellor. He thought of his security officer, Worf Rozhenko, and wonder if he should insist he join their meeting, but like Riker, he was also a changed man. Last night security had been forced to stun the muscular Klingon when he went berserk in the quarters he shared with his wife and son Alexander. The boy had asked the doctors assistance when his father had become agitated. Worf insisted he could feel Deanna's pain. No, he recanted, when Beverly arrived, he did not exactly feel her pain, but ‘sensed' it. Beverly tried to reason with him, after sending the boy away to spend the night in her quarters. She assured him that it was his imagination since they all knew Deanna had blanked out their psychic link, he argued that he knew she needed him. It had been a difficult situation, for they knew he was right; there was no doubt she did need him, but there was nothing they could do. Beverly was forced to send for help when he became increasingly violent and began to destroy the furniture, breaking several pieces until he grabbed his bat'telh from the wall and threatened her and they had to stun him. He was now in a security cell for his own safety. Beverly gave him several sedatives after the effects of the stun wore off to give him a chance to sleep, something few of them had enjoyed since leaving Romulas.

Jean-Luc turned his gaze to Beverly Crusher. They had barely spoken since their return. He stared at her lowered head, wishing she would look at him, perhaps smile a little encouragement, but he knew his wish was wistful thinking. The situation was similar to the events that destroyed his relationship with Neela Daren, he thought, suddenly swept by pain; he had again lost the trust of the woman he loved.

Jean-Luc pulled himself together as he heard Chancellor Martok enter the room. The Klingon leader moved down the aisle by the inner wall, followed by M'bok, to take the chair next to his...the seat reserved for Deanna and a sense of relief swept over him.

The Chancellor did not sit immediately. "Well, Captain, I see that you accomplished your mission..." Martok gazed across the table at the Klingon spiritual leader.

Jean-Luc stood. "Yes, Chancellor...I trust you will keep your bargain in this matter."

The Chancellor continued to gaze at the Klingon Emperor. Everyone at the table seemed to hold their breath. "Has he been affected in any way…tortured?"

"No, Chancellor." Doctor Crusher answered for the Captain. "He is physically fit."

"Good!" The Chancellor's gaze swept the room, "Lieutenant Commander Worf and Deanna of the House of Mogh... Are they no longer welcome at your table, Captain?"

Jean-Luc looked down at the table unable to meet his gaze. "The Lieutenant Commander is not well, Chancellor. We hope that he will be feeling better very soon."

"And Deanna? Where is she?"

Jean-Luc cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Kahless, the Klingon spiritual leader answered for him. "The woman of whom you speak is on Romulas, Chancellor Martok."

The Chancellor's gaze swung to the Emperor of the Klingon Empire. Everyone knew he did not approve of Kahless and had fought his installation as Emperor even though the position was only regarded as ceremonial. "On Romulas!" Martok repeated in surprise. His gaze swung back to the Captain. "You left Deanna of Mogh on Romulas?" "Yes..." Jean-Luc answered quietly.

"She was captured attempting my rescue, Martok..." Kahless's words sounded almost like a challenge.

Martok's gaze swung back to the spiritual leader. He stared at the cloned warrior for a long moment. It was easy to see he was wondering if his release and her capture was an equal exchange. Martok turned accusingly to the Captain. "You left her, Captain Picard...with the enemy!"

Jean-Luc moved uncomfortably, he recognized the combative stance their conversation was taking.

A voice came from an unexpected quarter. "He had no choice, Chancellor Martok. I understand your ultimatum was very clear."

Martok's gaze swept the table until his eyes alighted on the Vulcan who spoke. "And who are you?" He demanded.

Spock slowly rose to his feet. "My name, Chancellor Martok is Ambassador Spock...I am from the planet Vulcan."

"Ooh yes, the Vulcan ambassador you were sent to rescue." Martok's accusing gaze swept back to the Captain. "It appears you have been successful on both counts." He growled softly. "Yet you would leave a member of your crew...with those HeSwI^[1], Captain Picard."

Ambassador Spock moved around the table to stand beside Captain Picard. "It was a difficult situation, Chancellor, the Captain of the Enterprise was given little choice. The woman you call Deanna of Mogh did not seek his permission when she had him beamed up from the planet. Your threat of war was her major concern."

Martok stared at the ambassador for a long moment. "Spock...Spock...that name is familiar to me..." His eyes suddenly lit up in recognition. "There was a Commander Spock at the Khitomer conference in 2293...at the unification of my people and the Federation...Your father?"

"That was I, Chancellor Martok."

Martok gazed at the Vulcan for a long moment and finally took his chair. "I am honored, Ambassador Spock."

Spock nodded remaining by the Captain's side. "We have come a long way since that time, Chancellor."

Martok agreed. "The treaty between the Klingon Empire and the Federation has proven to have many benefits, Ambassador...for both."

Jean-Luc slowly sat down as the Vulcan Ambassador continued to speak.

"I am pleased that you recognize the benefits, Chancellor." Spock slid his hands into the wide sleeves of his vestment as the tension in the room eased. "The conference had many dissenters at the time, on both sides. I am now seeking another treaty, Chancellor, one that is proving to be as equally difficult to negotiate: the re-unification of the Romulan people with my home planet of Vulcan."

"I see..." He began to rise in agitation. "You would seek to make peace with these... these..."

"They are my people, Chancellor" Spock interjected before the Klingon could find his word of insult. "...of my blood...the Romulan race were once Vulcan."

Martok growled impatiently as he fell back in his seat. "The unification of your people is of little importance to me, Ambassador...the Klingon Empire seeks only justice...justice and revenge..."

Kahless interrupted in an effort to ease the new tension. "Chancellor, you must not forget your Spiritual Leader has been returned to you...as you requested."

The Chancellor's gaze swung to the Klingon Spiritual leader. "That is true." He agreed, but appeared unconvinced.

"The people of Romulas are tired of war, Chancellor Martok." continued Spock, "They seek no argument with you. It is only a handful on the council who seek military power."

"That is the way of the military mind, Ambassador... We Klingon's are not that sophisticated. We seek justice for a deed that was without honor."

Kahless suddenly stood, his face twisted in a scowl. His demeanor was completely unexpected as he pointed accusingly at Martok. "You speak of honor Martok! I believe, Chancellor, that you too are without honor. Indeed, the truth sits beside you. My abduction has not been honored in accordance with Klingon tradition."

Martok jumped to his feet, his full attention on Kahless. "You dare to call me dishonorable!"

"You sit with the maghwI^[2] who was responsible for my abduction." Kahless spoke angrily, pointing at M'bok. "You dare to bring him to this table!"

"His presence here was the decision of Deanna of Mogh, Emperor Kahless." Martok returned angrily. "It was she who made the blood oath and petitioned for his life after he lost the battle with her champion. She convinced us of the need to rescue you and placed M'bok under my protection. M'bok made the same oath to serve the Empire."

Kahless glowered, simmered for a moment then sat down angrily. "It would appear that this Betazoid woman, Deanna of Mogh, has served the Klingon Empire better than most...and deserves to be recognized."

"She should be rescued, Martok." M'bok spoke for the first time. "My life belongs to her because she spared me...I offer myself as her champion." He rose to his feet.

"I too, owe her my life...I too seek to be her champion." Kahless instantly rose to his feet. The two tall Klingons glowered and growled at each other across the table.

The situation was truly out of hand. Jean-Luc gazed from one fiery face to the other. "NO!" He slammed his fist upon the desk and stood abruptly facing the three Klingons with an equal display of anger. "Deanna Rozhenko sought to stop a war..." He glared at the two men equally as riled but in control of his emotions. He turned to Beverly. "Doctor..." Beverly Crusher slowly stood uncertain of what was happening. "Would be so kind as to see if Mr. Worf is feeling better...He should be present at this meeting."

"Yes, Worf of Mogh should be present," agreed Martok. "As Chancellor of the Klingon people and leader of the council, to whom you both owe allegiance, M'bok...and you, Kahless, I alone seek the right to be the champion of the House of Mogh."

"I believe, Chancellor, that right should be the decision of the House of Mogh." The Captain returned quietly as he slid back into his seat, for the first time feeling in control of the meeting.

"Gentlemen, it is agreed that Klingon honor must be met." Not understanding the Captains ploy, Ambassador Spock interjected. All eyes moved from the Captain to the quiet man who still stood by his chair. He spoke with quiet assurance, each word chosen with care. "It is true. A Klingon warrior must seek to destroy his enemy...but I must repeat that enemy is not the Romulan people." He turned his gaze to the Klingon spiritual leader. "We have talked of many things the few days we have known each other, Emperor Kahless. You have spoken of your concern for the honor of your people...for their lack of trust, and caring, of their lack of joy..."

Kahless nodded. "It is true...I seek to help my people find a better path."

"I too seek a better path for the Romulan people. Kahless, we are one in this. The Romulan people have no joy...they have no freedom...they are held in the grip of a police state which rules their every thought...their every feeling. There is no joy on Romulas."

The two men gazed at each other for a long moment in silence until the spiritual leader of the Klingon people slowly sat. Spock knew he ready to listen.

"Your eloquence, Ambassador Spock does not move me." M'bok declared. "I stand firm. My honor as a Klingon demands vengeance for this crime."

It was at that moment that Worf Rozhenko entered the room and stopped. Every eye turned to him expectantly. With lowered head, Beverly Crusher passed him to resume her seat.

Jean-Luc watched his security officer with concern: had he made the right decision to include him in the discussion? There were dark circles around the tall Klingon's eyes, he noted and the deep grooves on his forehead seemed to have taken an ashen hue.

Under their steady gaze Worf moved across the room to stand behind an empty chair at the end of the table.

Martok nodded and spoke positively. "It is good that you have joined us, Worf of the House of Mogh. We seek a champion for your mate...Deanna of the House of Mogh."

Worf slowly sat down. "I am the eldest son of the House of Mogh..." he said quietly. He appeared dazed and still under the influence of the drugs.

Commander Riker stood and everyone watched him speculatively as he moved to sit beside the Enterprise Security Officer. "Worf...we need you to help us..." The Commander spoke quietly, clearly enough for everyone to hear.

Worf did not look at Riker or seem to heed his presence. His eyes cleared suddenly and he appeared to regain his equilibrium. "I am the head of the House of Mogh," he repeated, "and Deanna Troi is my mate...I, Worf of Mogh shall be her champion."

M'bok gazed at the wrought face and slowly sat down.

Ambassador Spock moved to the chair vacated by Riker next to the Captain. "A calm head of reason, I hope." He murmured as he sat.

"Captain...I seek permission to mount a mission to rescue Deanna." Worf said quietly.

"I fear I spoke too soon." Spock muttered, sitting forward.

"I shall join you...." Kahless stood once more.

"And I..." M'bok also stood.

"I also...." Martok agreed.

Captain Picard ignored the members of the Klingon high council at the table, as he met the blood shot eyes of his security chief. "You know that is impossible, Mr. Worf."

Martok turned to the Captain, his demeanor impatient. "This is beyond reason, Captain Picard. A member of the family of a Klingon house is being held against her will. Also, the Klingon Emperor was held against his will on that same planet. He was tortured and abused; his position as a leader of the Klingon Empire was not honored. I demand vengeance, Captain Picard. I demand the rescue of Deanna of Mogh..."

Ambassador Spock looked at the Captain squarely...if any moment called for "Cowboy" diplomacy, this was it. He hoped this Captain of the Enterprise recognized what was at stake.

Jean-Luc firmly rose to his feet... "We shall rescue the Counselor..."

Worf slowly rose to his feet. He nodded thank you to the Captain. Each Command Officer of the Enterprise slowly rose to their feet. There was a moment of silence.

"How is this to be accomplished, Captain Picard?" Martok finally enquired, "The Klingon fleet awaits your word."

"We will mount a surprise attack on the Romulan home world, Chancellor." Was the firm, quiet reply.

The Enterprise officers were stunned. They stared at the Captain and slowly sat down one by one in shock: had Captain Picard suddenly gone mad?

Martok smiled and M'bok thumped the table. Worf gazed at the Captain in disbelief.

Ambassador Spock turned to the Captain as he too slowly settled in his seat. "Not quite the answer I had expected, Captain."

Captain Picard was grim. "We are going to take the planet of Romulas by surprise with the aide of the Klingon armada, with your permission, Chancellor...in the name of the Federation. It was your wish to champion a Federation officer…?"

"Federation Officer…" Repeated M'bok.

"Yes…Deanna Troi Rozhenko is a member of my crew, her mate, Worf of the House of Mogh is my security officer. I reserve the right to be arbiter on behalf of her Federation Champion, Wolf Rozhenko." The Klingons raised their heads and howled with anticipation as Jean-Luc turned to Ambassador Spock. "I am going to need your help explaining this to the Federation Council, Ambassador." He said quietly under the noisy response of the Klingon High Council members. "I plan this to be bloodless coup..." "I hope you know what you are doing, Captain Picard," Spock muttered. "You are sounding very much like a Captain I once knew. He too was known to take some wild leaps of faith that was often considered questionable."

The Captain smiled, "Cowboy diplomacy, Ambassador? It is a concept with which I am not entirely unfamiliar." He turned back to the table. "Martok, I will meet with you and your chief officers in precisely two hours. By that time I will have a plan of action. Two days from now we will be back in Romulan skies..."

"You will transfer to my ship to lead the attack, Captain?" Martok enquired.

"No, Chancellor, the Federation Starship Enterprise will lead this mission, in the name of the Federation...There are certain modifications that have recently been added to her armament that make her ideally suited for this ‘enterprise.'" He glanced down the table to Commander Riker. "Since the Romulans have broken the non-proliferation treaty we are no longer restrained in the use of our technology."

CHAPTER FIVETEEN.

Captain Picard took his seat on the bridge. All of his officers were expectant, with every eye on the Captain. Commander Riker sat forward, his body rigid in his chair to the Captain's right. Beverly Crusher looked poised and relaxed as she sat in the chair to his left. Worf was at his place above them at the weapons array.

"Mr. Data, has the course been set?"

Data nodded. "Yes Captain."

The Captain lent back. "Then make it so."

The Enterprise immediately jumped to warp speed.

"Mr. Riker...!" The Captain turned to his first officer.

Riker nodded and turned to the Science Station. "Mr. Spock...are we ready?" The Commander asked.

"Yes, Commander."

"Then please integrate the device." The Commander ordered. There was a vague sensation, as if they had stopped moving.

Jean-Luc nodded. "Have we entered the Neutral Zone, Mr. Data?"

"Yes Captain, the device is working; we are cloaked."

"And is the armada ready to enter the Neutral Zone, Mr. Worf?"

"Yes, Captain," returned the Lieutenant Commander.

"Then advise Martok to follow at their fastest speed, Mr. Worf." Jean-Luc turned to the observation screen. "Bring the Enterprise to warp nine, Mr. Data."

"Warp nine, Captain? At that speed we will arrive twelve hours ahead of the fleet, sir."

Jean-Luc nodded. "That is true, Mr. Data; I hope it will be enough time."

Data raised a quizzical brow as he turned to his station. "Warp Nine it is, sir."

* * * * *

It was a clear day over the Capitol City of Romulas when the Enterprise moved into orbit above the polar ice caps far to the north twenty-eight hours later. Five days had passed since they had left the planet.

Worf Rozhenko stared at the view screen. Using the telescopic lens of the viewer they could see the City far down at the base of the screen. The tall Klingon tried to reach out with his mind as Deanna had taught him. He began by visualizing the Capitol City as he had seen it through Deanna's eyes, the tall buildings and wide streets came clearly to mind; the Senate building appeared, four levels high with the surrounding canal and gardens stretching to the waters edge. In his mind he moved around the building to the air carport at the rear of the building and entered the rear door. He felt his first sense of ‘presence', of actually being there as he moved down the corridor to the main entrance. He ‘saw' the wide, high ceiling of the vestibule, and the people in their colorless grey clothes, busily rushing too and fro, and reached out to sense if Deanna was in the building when suddenly his mind went blank. He thumped the weapons array angrily.

Captain Picard looked up. "No luck, Mr. Worf?"

"No, Captain. Every time I come into the building, I lose it."

"Maybe they have moved her?" Riker suggested.

"No, Commander. There is something I do not understand: the feeling is not her normal manner of blanking me out, but I do sense it is Deanna blocking me. I believe she is in the building and alive, Captain, but she is denying my presence. She will not allow me to make contact with her."

The Captain stood. "Mr. Data, you and I must go down." He nodded to Beverly and she also rose immediately to leave and prepare their prosthetics.

"I must join you, Captain Picard." Jean-Luc turned to the science station. Ambassador Spock met his gaze. "I must prepare my people for the arrival of the armada. I am needed, Captain."

"Very well, Ambassador, you may accompany the away team."

"Thank you, Captain," Spock turned back to the science station. "There appears to be many ships in orbit above the City, Captain. I believe we may have arrived just in time to stop the invasion."

"I thought the invasion was not scheduled for another five weeks, Ambassador."

"My console is recording as many as a thousand Warbirds, Captain...our Klingon armada would appear to be evenly matched."

"I promised no bloodshed, Ambassador and I meant it." Jean-Luc rose moved toward the ramp. "Commander Riker, you have the bridge." He hesitated adjacent to the weapons station. "Mr. Worf, we will do our best to find her before the armada arrives."

Worf did not answer. "Mr. Worf?"

Worf turned to Jean-Luc. His expression was conflicted as he fought to keep his voice under control; even so his vocal inflections were harsh. "Captain, with your permission, I believe I should come with you."

"You know that is impossible, Lieutenant Commander."

"But Captain, I am the only one who can find her."

"Mr. Worf, you must trust us. If, as you believe, she is still alive, then we will find her."

"And if she is ten floors below ground, Captain?"

"Lieutenant Commander, we will find a way to get to her. We have only twelve hours. If we do not find her, then she will be in real danger of them using her as a hostage. If I allow you to come down with us, your appearance will place her in jeopardy immediately."

Worf scowled. "I understand, Captain." He agreed reluctantly.

The Captain nodded to Data and they adjourned to sickbay for the application of their prosthetics.

Beverly did not speak as she applied the pale makeup and black wigs but she did take Jean-Luc's arm as they moved to leave. "Good luck, Captain." Her gaze was cautionary, perhaps fearful, he thought, as he felt her concern for him.

He took her hand and squeezed it saying nothing. He hoped she would have a reason to smile again when they returned.

Ambassador Spock was waiting at the transporter. It was like old times, he thought, as his chest swelled with anticipation. The years seemed to disappear as he momentarily envisioned once more being a member of an away team on the Enterprise B.

Despite their anticipation of a rescue, the away team was not gone long. They were gone less than an hour. Within half an hour of beaming down, they overheard a public proclamation boasting of the trial of an enemy agent caught spying for the Federation. Pictures of Deanna were flashed across the television screen. It was an obvious propaganda ploy to rally the people in support of their attack on the Federation, Jean-Luc remarked as they hurried to find a secluded area to beam back to the Enterprise. Deanna was to be made a scapegoat to rally any dissenters against their invasion. The trail was to be held in a public arena, with full television coverage that same afternoon. They had arrived just in time to rescue her.

* * * * *

"Captain we are in position."

Captain Picard looked up at the Klingon standing at the weapons array. "We must remain out of phase, Mr. Worf; with the ship partially embedded in the planet."

"I know Captain...It is strange. I am thirty feet from the Praetor of the Romulan Empire staring her straight in the eye." It was indeed an unprecedented situation, Worf thought. Who could have imaged three hours ago that the Enterprise would be in full view of an arena packed with Romulan warriors, politicians and secret police it's giant bulk sitting out of phase half embedded in the arena walls and rock stratum of the Romulan planet.

* * * * *

The tall Klingon was awed by the credulity of the event as he thought back to the time several years before, when he was ordered to arrest Captain Picard when the Captain had dared to defy a Federation Admiral. It was a memorable experience, not unlike the one he was experiencing at the moment; one he would never forget, for he never wavered in his loyalty to the Captain of the Enterprise but stood firm refusing to obey the request. He recalled the incident now because that memory was the only explanation for their current position.

The strange event occurred when the Enterprise was ordered to the Devilin system by the Federation Security Council to try to find and recover a Federation starship called, the Pegasus; an experimental vessel that had disappeared under mysterious circumstances twelve years before. Everyone believed the ship had imploded during an unstable experiment and her crew, with the exception of the Admiral, who was her Captain at the time, his second in command and a young ensign by the name of William Riker had perished. The three men had escaped in a pod only moments before the mysterious explosion demolished the ship - or at least that is what everyone believed until twelve years later when a Romulan vessel discovered debris from the vessel close to the Romulan Neutral Zone, light years from their original location.

The Enterprise crew discovered the ship deep inside an asteroid with sixty percent of its structure embedded in solid rock; the only visible part was the forward section where the crew were still sitting at their consoles, having died instantly when exposed to space; their bodies preserved forever in stasis. In his anxiety to find the vessel before the Romulans, the Admiral had insisted they take the Enterprise through a narrow fissure into the interior of the asteroid to reclaim a secretive device he claimed they could not allow to fall into Romulan hands. When the Romulan Warbird, searching for the vessel, discovered they had entered the asteroid, the Romulan Captain sealed the fissure, claiming ‘an accident' had caused the opening to collapse.

Trapped inside the rock with no means of escape, Riker broke his vow of silence to reveal the true nature of the device: a secret experiment in cloaking technology that used the ability of phasing into another dimension to mask your presence. It was a technology once experimented by the Romulans but abandoned when their proto-type caused a rift in time. Riker's admission of the devices capability allowed them to escape through the solid rock of the asteroid, but the Commander had to face a tribunal together with the Admiral and several members of the Security Council for violating the conditions of the Treaty of Algeron. A treaty originally signed in 2160 between the Romulans and the Federation to establish the Romulan Neutral Zone. To stop any violation of the treaty the Federation agreed not to experiment or to use cloaking technology. Since the Romulans had now broken that treaty by threatening a war against the Federation they were now free to finally use that abandoned technology. A week ago, while their Klingon carrier was still sitting in a field on Romulas, the Captain was thinking ahead. He requested Data to piggy-back a message on an outgoing Romulan transmission to the Valo system and contacted the Enterprise, requesting Commander Riker to divert to Earth and collect the device. At that time he had no idea of using the device, only that it was now available for their use. The Enterprise had entered the Neutral Zone using that technology and were now using its phasing ability to rescue his wife. There was little chance of detection for the technology was far superior to that of the Romulans.

* * * * *

The Captain smiled. "And I, Lieutenant Commander am standing next to Deanna..." He raised his hand and lightly touched Deanna's shoulder. She gave no sign of being touched. Her face was wooden, her expression devoid of emotion.

"Captain, do you think this is wise." Commander Riker queried. "If we move in phase even a miniscule amount, she could be caught in our dimensional shift."

Beverly Crusher was troubled. "Jean-Luc, this is too dangerous...too strange."

"Perhaps you are right, Beverly. We do not want to endanger the Counselor by our actions." He turned to Mr. Data. The android was partly phased into the body of Proconsul Sela. "Move the ship, Commander; move far enough away to allow a hatch to open near the Counselor. Mr. Worf, you did, I believe, ask permission to go down to the planet. Permission is here-by granted. We will open the hatch and you may step into the arena. Once you leave the ship, you will be on your own. You will not be immediately visible until you use the portable device, Commander Riker brought back with him. When you do phase into the third dimension it will be as if you magically appeared, or maybe beamed down. That will throw them into confusion. We will need to take the ship back into orbit above the North Pole before we re-enter normal space. We do not want to be a sitting duck for that Romulan armada up there. It will take time. Our armada made better time than we thought. They are only an hour away and I imagine the Chancellor is chaffing at the bit for action."

As the Captain spoke Worf moved down the ramp to the lower platform of the bridge to more closely view the figure of his wife. He noted that Deanna looked distraught. He wanted to reach out mentally to assure her he was near, but he feared she might react. She was standing in the very centre a tiered arena with stalls full of Romulans, staring down at her. She was on trial for her life, her protagonist, Proconsul Sela was moving around in an agitated manner. They could not hear what the Proconsul was saying, but it was obvious she had the crowd enthralled. He dare not speak but he could not help wondering if she had been tortured. "Doctor...what is the matter with her?"

Beverly Crusher stepped around the Romulan guard who stood directly in front of her. It was not necessary she knew; she could have walked right through him, but that was somehow obscene. She pulled out her scanner but could not get a reading because of their phased condition. "I am not sure, Worf..." She gazed at Deanna's expression... she did not need the scanner to tell her what was wrong. "Worf..." She looked unhappy when she spoke to the Klingon. "I believe she may have lost the baby..."

Worf turned back to his wife, he reached out to touch her...but his hand passed through her body. He withdrew it quickly. "I am sorry to hear that, doctor." He wanted to take his wife in his arms to comfort her but that was not possible.

"You have the anyon emitter, Mr. Worf...The device will bring you back into three dimensional space when you are ready....When we rise we will be, of course, cloaked, that will be the time to rescue the Counselor...but not before...you understand, you will be at risk if you dare to materialize before we create the distraction. As soon as we reach the north pole and re-enter normal space we will beam the entire senate into the Ten Forward lounge, including Pro-consul Sela. Ambassador Spock will be waiting, with Martok, M'bok and Kahless, plus members of the unification underground. They will be attending another trial...a trial they will not expect. During the confusion you must make your move. We will only be visible for a couple of seconds. You must use your portable device immediately to take you both out of phase. We will be able to pick you up once we have accomplished our task and phased again. You will be beamed directly to sick-bay. Doctor, I hope you are wrong in your diagnosis of Deanna's condition and if you are, I hope you have the necessary medications to help her."

"I have a fully stocked larder, Jean-Luc." Beverly smiled for the first time since they left Romulas five days ago.

Jean-Luc felt a warm glow and also found himself smiling, although the occasion did not call for it, at least not yet. "Very good, doctor." Jean-Luc turned to Worf with a hardened expression. "Do you understand, Lieutenant Commander?"

"Yes, Captain."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Deanna Troi Rozhenko stood as ordered. She did not feel anything as she stared straight ahead. The dark haired judges sitting on the dais before her had pronounced sentence. The crowded arena was silent. It was nice to be out doors again, she thought; it was fitting. She looked up at the sky, it was blue...she stared up beyond the Romulan warbirds that filled the sky. Somewhere out there, Worf was safe, she thought; the war had been averted. Nothing else mattered; she had died two days ago; the trial was only a final judgment. She was glad it was over; there was only emptiness now.

"Do you have anything to say?" Proconsul Sela sneered. She moved forward, to stand in front of Deanna, her blonde hair blowing in a slight breeze.

Deanna did not really see her as she closed her mind to the events around her. It would soon be over. She remained silent.

"We have completed our trial." Sela turned to face the podium. "Federation Officer, Commander Rozhenko has been found guilty of treason, seeking to steal information, and conspiring with an enemy of the Romulan people."

"Are you sure, Proconsul," the Praetor queried, "Your captive cannot be used as a bargaining tool in exchange for someone of value?"

"The Federation has nothing we need, Praetor. This woman has no political value. We have all the knowledge we need, including the computer over-rides of her Federation ship, the U.S.S. Enterprise. She has no value as an exchange prisoner."

"You are quite sure, Pro-consul?" The Praetor repeated.

"Quite sure, Praetor." Sela repeated. "She has been examined by all known methods, and we have gleaned all the information she knows."

"Then if she is of no value why has she not been executed."

"We have kept her alive in case there should be an attempt of a rescue, Praetor. Then she would have some value, but since it has been five days since her capture, and no Federation ship has been detected in the Neutral Zone, we assume that no rescue will be attempted."

"Then do not delay the sentence, Proconsul."

Sela moved to the front of the high table. "Sentence will be carried out at noon tomorrow, Praetor."

The guard grabbed Deanna by the arm and pulled her forward.

Deanna submitted without thought, dragged to the pro-consul's side when a sudden commotion caused her to lift her head; the twenty people sitting on the dais in front of her, seven women and thirteen men appeared to be dissolving. She stared at the bare dais without comprehension.

The guard released her to pull out his disruptor as pandemonium broke out in the arena.

"Deanna!" Worf appeared behind Deanna.

Deanna continued to stare up at the dais while up in the galleries men and women began to run toward the exits. No weapons, other than those carried by guards were permitted in the arena, during a public trial. She knew this trial was supposed to be public, as public as the senate would allow. The ‘public' included the members of the Senate, who were Deanna's judges, the military, who were her accusers and the Tal Shiar who came to see that ‘justice' was done, all the ‘leaders' of the people were present to condone their death sentence, the only presence of the ‘people' were the TV cameras that recorded the event – so information could be ‘controlled'.

"Deanna," the voice repeated again behind her.

Deanna recognized the voice but refused to believe her ears. She did not even consider looking around. In the past five days, she had heard that voice many times and she knew her mind was playing tricks on her. Please, she thought, kill me quickly. She looked up into the bright blue sky. The Romulan War Birds still hovered above her. As she watched the sky seemed to become a live. Ships... Klingon ships if she dared to believe her eyes…hundreds of them were de-cloaking, appearing from out of nowhere; each ship facing a Romulan Warbird. She tried to fathom what was happening. Why, all of a sudden, she could no longer see the blue sky...only the density of the ships...so many ships that the sky was now as dark as night.

"Deanna?" The voice repeated her name for a third time.

The Guard in front of her fell to the ground. She stared at his inert form. Had he fallen, she wondered, or had he been stunned by a Federation phaser?

"Deanna..." The voice was there again, now beside her. She turned slowly, as if in a dream. It was Worf. She stared at the Klingon wordlessly, unable to believe the evidence of her own eyes. Relief and fear combined as everything went black.

* * * * *

Deanna slowly opened her eyes. It took several moments for her to focus. She was in sickbay; she recognized the ceiling of the Enterprise medical center. She closed her eyes again. It did not matter, it was a dream; she had no reason to live.

"Deanna..."

It was the voice again, this time it was in her mind. In her delirious state she had allowed her concentration to lapse, she closed her mind quickly though she was sure her mind was playing tricks again.

"Deanna!" Once more his voice was speaking aloud, stronger and more adamant. "Deanna, I know you are awake. I know you can hear me. I know you have lost the child.

Deanna turned on her side away from the voice. She did not want to hear.

"Deanna..." It was a different voice this time. She recognized the voice as Beverly Crusher. "Deanna?" The doctor spoke softly leaning close to her ear. "Deanna, it is all right...we know what happened."

Deanna still refused to open her eyes.

"Doctor, may I?" It was the first voice again.

There was silence for a moment. Then the voice was closer, directly in front of her. "Deanna," the voice was soft, almost a whisper close to her face. "Deanna, I love you. I need you. Please come back to me."

Deanna slowly opened her eyes. The Klingon she had dreamed of for the past five days was there, in front of her, kneeling beside her medical bed. She closed her eyes again.

"Deanna, do not shut me out...I love you." The voice was in her mind.

"I killed our baby!" Deanna screamed telepathically.

Worf reeled back, falling to the floor from the pain of her cry.

"Worf, are you all right?" Beverly Crushed moved around the bed quickly, as Worf fell against the medical center wall.

Worf slowly stood up and moved away from his wife, his head aching from her attack.

"Doctor," he beckoned Doctor Crusher, "May I speak to you in your office."

Beverly nodded.

Deanna turned on her back again. She felt cold. She looked over to the doctor's office. Worf was talking to the doctor. The conversation appeared to be heated. She could have tuned in with her telepathic link, but she did not. She was not even curious, she did not care. She wished the Romulans had completed their sentence. She turned away to the wall again. Why had they rescued her?

Worf came back. "Deanna," he spoke firmly. "Deanna, the doctor says that you are undernourished, but that you are well enough to go home."

The words came from a long way away. Deanna slowly turned over again and looked at Worf for a long moment as her mind tried to decipher what he had said. She did not have a home any more. She wanted to stay in sickbay. She looked past Worf to the Doctor. "Beverly, I am not well." She spoke in a whisper because her throat hurt.

Maybe Worf was right, after all, Beverly Crusher thought as she watched Deanna's reaction. Maybe she did need familiar surroundings. "I am glad to see you've got your tongue back, young lady." She smiled in her best doctor manner.

"Beverly I am not well." Deanna repeated. "I cannot go ‘home'."

"Yes you can, Deanna." the doctor replied quietly. "You are taking up valuable bed space that I might need at any moment. We are at war."

"War!" Deanna repeated as she looked listlessly from the doctor back to Worf.

"Yes, with both the Romulans and the Klingon's at the moment." returned the Doctor. "Worf will fill you in."

Deanna became desperate. "No, Beverly please, I cannot leave sickbay."

"Of course you can." replied the doctor more positively. "There is nothing physically wrong with you that a good meal would not fix." She was silent for a moment. "You have completely recovered from your loss."

Deanna stared at her. Recovered from her loss...but not from the pain, Deanna thought. She closed her eyes.

"Come on, Deanna, sit up. I need that bed."

Deanna felt Beverly take her hands and pull violently, dragging her up to a sitting position. She opened her eyes and saw the troubled expression on Worf's face and she tried to pull herself together. She did not want him to worry. There was no need to worry about her any more. "I am up," she murmured. "If you insist I will give up the bed." Her head ached. She touched her forehead and found it cold and clammy. "But I do not want to go ‘home.' Is there a spare cabin I could have for a few days until I am feeling better?"

"Sorry, young lady, but all of our cabins are being used at the moment. We have a full contingent of Klingon's onboard acting as guards for the Romulan Senators who are currently on trial. I said we were at war. Besides you have excellent quarters on deck ten, three bedrooms isn't it?"

"Yes...one for the ba.." Deanna caught herself and bit her lip as the memory flooded back and she turned away again.

Beverly looked at Worf. Deanna was truly suffering.

Worf took the initiative and moved forward and pulled Deanna to her feet. "That's it, Deanna, it is time you came home. Doctor…?" He looked a question at the doctor.

"At any time, Worf...any time..."

"Thank you, Doctor." Worf took his wife's arm. "Come along."

Deanna allowed herself to be led from the room. She felt empty. Worf guided her into the turbolift and back to their shared quarters. When they entered, Commander Riker rose from the sofa. Deanna only had a vague recollection of his identity but she did recognize the room and felt a sense of panic. Alexander also stood and stared at her.

"Alexander, I want you to move your things into the other bedroom." Worf ordered

"The other bedroom," the young Klingon repeated. "But that is for the ba..."

"Do as I say, immediately." Worf interrupted sternly.

Alexander looked at the glazed expression on Deanna's face and then back to his father. "Yes, father, right away."

Worf led Deanna to the sofa and watched her closely as she automatically sat down. As far as he could tell, she did not appear to recognize her surroundings.

Commander Riker sat down beside her. "Deanna...?" He took her hand.

Deanna turned and looked at him without recognition. She seemed to stare right through him. After a moment the Commander felt uncomfortable and rose to his feet. Deanna's gaze did not waver from the empty space where he had been sitting.

Unknown to both men, Deanna was fighting an internal struggle. She did not want to be there. She did not want to recognize the room or the people. Her mind had closed down, as natural recognition patterns refused to be absorbed.

Worf moved to the replicator and ordered a full meal.

Will Riker followed him. "What's the matter with her?"

"She is blaming herself for the loss of the baby."

"But she was not responsible...the Romulans were torturing her."

"It is no good trying to tell her that, Commander, she will not listen. She has shut out every-one...including me. She did not even want to come home."

"We are going to be here at Romulas for some time. We will not be able to get a Counselor to help her."

"I am aware of that, Commander." Worf picked up the food and placed it on the table. He moved over to a smaller table by the sofa and picked up a vase of pink flowers. He bought them back to the dining table, placed them in the position Deanna always set, and then he came back for Deanna, taking her arm, he guided her to the table.

Deanna stared at the food. She did not need food, she thought listlessly; she did not want food.

Worf sat down beside her. "If you will excuse us, Commander; my wife is hungry. I do not know if she is aware of it, but I must try to make her eat something. Deanna, pick up the fork!" he ordered.

Deanna reacted automatically and picked up the fork.

Worf realized it was going to take time. He took the fork from her hand picked up a knife and commenced to cut the food. He looked up at Riker who had not moved, his gaze fixed on Deanna. "Commander, I believe Deanna would prefer to eat alone."

"Yes, of course, Worf," he backed toward the door. "I will see you on duty to-morrow."

"I have requested a leave of absence, Commander; for the next forty-eight hours."

"Yes, of course, I wasn't thinking. I shall see you soon." He hesitated when the door opened. "Is it all right if I drop by to see how she's doing?"

"Of course, Commander; we want everything to be as normal as possible."

"Yes...It is very strange to see her so...so out of it?"

"Yes, Commander...I know what you mean. She will be all right, Commander..."

"I hope so, Mr. Worf...

"Doctor Crusher feels it will just take a little time."

"Yes..." Riker mutter… "Time..." The door closed behind him.

* * * * *

Deanna had finished every morsel by the time Alexander came back to the living area. Worf lowered the spoon and lifted the napkin to wipe away the small trickle of ice-cream from the corner of Deanna's mouth.

"What is the matter with the Counselor, father?"

"She has had a shock, Alexander. I am afraid you will not have a baby sister just yet."

"She lost the..."

"You are not to mention that ever again Alexander, do you understand."

"Yes, father."

"Have you moved your things?"

"Yes, father."

"Deanna will be staying in your room for the next few days until she is feeling better. In the mean time, I want you to get some supper." Worf leant over to Deanna and took her arm once more. "Deanna, I think you should rest..."

Deanna looked at him. Why didn't he leave her alone, she cried silently? She allowed herself to be led into the small bedroom and did not resist when he undressed her and redressed her in her negligee. She slid silently beneath the covers, closed her eyes and turned to the wall. Worf watched her for a long moment, but she gave no indication of being aware of his presence. She was in shock; he assured himself…It would pass, it would take time…

In was the middle of the night the screams began. Worf woke immediately and rushed to the small bedroom. Alexander was already there. Deanna was sitting up, staring straight ahead, screaming his name. Worf told his son to return to his bed as he sat down on the bed and shook her. After a moment, Deanna blinked and abruptly stopped. The silence was worse as she continued to stare at him without recognition. He was not even sure if she was aware of his presence. There was no change of expression; her eyes were empty. He gently pushed her back until she was lying down and lay down beside her, hoping the warmth of his presence would reassurance her but she remained stiff and unresponsive. Gingerly he put his arm around her and after several moments, he felt the tension in her body relax. He remained that way, lying uncomfortably on the edge of the bed for the rest of the night. The following day he told Alexander he could move back into his room and brought Deanna back to their bed. Deanna was still unresponsive and catatonic when he left her hoping she would naturally fall back to sleep.

Worf was sitting at their dining table later that morning, absorbed in paperwork as he went over reports of the events of the previous day, when he looked up and realized his bat'telh was missing from the living area wall. He had not heard anyone enter and he wondered if Alexander had taken it. Then he panicked. Alexander had his own weapon; he knew better than to take his fathers' most prized possession without permission. He rushed to the bedroom. Deanna was not there; she had been asleep when he had checked less than thirty-minutes before. He moved quickly to the bathroom. Deanna was there, in the bath with water lapping at her neck and the bat'telh balanced across the rim. She had already cut one of her wrists and was about to cut the second with the razor sharp edge. Worf reacted immediately, grabbing her raised arm with one hand and the bleeding wrist with the other. He held the torn tissue firmly together, forming a tourniquet with his thumb and finger, stopping the flow of blood. Deanna tried to fight him, but he was much stronger and held her firmly, her arms immobilized in his grasp. "Alexander..." He called loudly.

"Yes, father!" His son called from his room on the far side of the living area.

"Call Doctor Crusher immediately!" Worf pinned Deanna's undamaged arm to her side and carried her back to the bedroom. "I cannot get to my communicator. Use the monitor in the corridor." Deanna was wet and slippery and he had trouble holding her wrist as she continued to squirm and fight him.

"Let me go! Why won't you let me go? I have no right to live!" She began to scream over and over again as she struggled.

"Because, Deanna," He let her undamaged arm go to pick up a blanket and wrapped it around her. He grabbed her arm again and forced her to look at him. "I love you...do you hear me, Deanna...I care for you." he said loudly over her screams.

Deanna suddenly went limp. Worf was not sure if the cause was loss of blood. He gently lowered her onto the bed as Beverly Crusher arrived and quickly sealed the damaged artery and wrist. Worf relaxed. He could sense Deanna was conscious because she continued to block her gift. He felt a warm glow…she was responding, but was still not willing to open her mind to him.

* * * * *

"It was just as well you were home." Beverly gave Deanna a sedative. "I do not want to keep her sedated. Maybe I should commit her to solitary confinement. At least she could not hurt herself there."

"No! Doctor, you are talking of my wife. I will take care of her. It will not happen again, I allowed myself to be caught up in my work..."

Beverly regarded him for a long moment. "I am sure it won't, Worf," she agreed as she picked up her hypo-spray. "You look like you have had quite a shock yourself. Should I give you something?"

"I will be fine, doctor."

"There's no way of knowing if or when she will come out of this, Worf. She could remain in this state for an hour, a week or indefinitely. Have you tried to reach her telepathically?"

"I regret, doctor, Deanna is the telepath. She has locked me out and I cannot reach her. Maybe, if we could get her mother..."

"Impossible. The negotiations have started and the Captain could use her help. He is walking a very tight diplomatic line, not knowing whom to trust. The Romulans are set on war and the Klingons are only too willing to oblige. If it were not for Ambassador Spock our plan of reconciliation would have collapsed within the first half hour."

"I am sure the Ambassador and the Captain will be able to handle it, Doctor."

Beverly sighed. Of course they can handle it, she thought; but Jean-Luc was beginning so show signs of stress. The last three weeks had been the most trying time she could remember. When at dinner last night he had admitted that he imagined she blamed him for Deanna's incarceration had shocked her; how could he thank that? It had taken a great deal to convince him that his assumption was wrong, that her silence at the officers meeting had been due to her mourning the possible loss of a friend. She smiled, as she remembered how they celebrated their new understanding. If only they could have that kind of communication all the time, she thought. Their relationship had changed, she realized; it had matured and she accepted that. With an effort she pulled her thoughts back to the present. "Worf, I am going to leave a sedative here. I will not leave enough to hurt her, should she get hold it. I will bring you a fresh supply to-morrow and each day while it is needed. Make sure she takes it before going to bed."

"Thank you, doctor."

* * * * *

Deanna's breakthrough came the following day. She was in the living area, sitting on the couch comfortably leaning back, her eyes closed when Alexander came home from school.

At least some things were normal, Worf thought, as he gazed at his son. Alexander came over to the dining table where Worf was going over a hand-written note he planned to send to Deanna's mother. Personal transmissions were allowed but communication was limited to short emails for expediency. Worf wanted to make sure he did not alarm his mother-in-law but he knew he needed her help. They were still hovering over Romulas in the Neutral Zone, more than fifty light years from Betazed. It was possible Lwaxana already knew of her daughter's anguish through their matrilineal bond but was unable to come to her aid.

"Is she any better, father?"

"No, Alexander, I am afraid not. Did you complete that math assignment they gave you yesterday?"

"Yes, I got a B minus." He put down his computer pad and moved over to Deanna. He gazed at her a long moment thinking she was asleep then sat down beside her. He continued to gaze at her as he took her lifeless hand and brought it up to his cheek. "Please do not leave us," he said quietly. "I do not want to lose my mother again...."

Deanna slowly opened her eyes and looked at the boy.

Worf was the first to be aware of it; the small tear at the corner of her eyes. They began to swell and slide down her face. "Alexander..." She reached for the boy.

Worf watched as she hugged him, the tears welling down her cheeks. The boy did not know how to react and tried to break free; he was unused to physical affection.

"Let her hold you, Alexander." Worf ordered. Alexander relaxed in her arms.

The sobs could be heard then, as they gradually grew louder. Abruptly Deanna let the boy go and turned away, unable to control her emotions, afraid that she might hurt the boy, she was squeezing him so hard.

Alarmed, Alexander immediately jumped up, away from her. "What did I do? What did I say?"

"Nothing, Alexander...nothing." Worf moved to the boy and patted his shoulder. "Relax, Alexander, do not be alarmed. Everything will be all right now. You have helped her..."

"But what is that water coming from her eyes?" Not having tear ducts the Klingon child had never seen anyone cry; he thought he had hurt Deanna.

"Those are tears, Alexander...She will feel better now, I hope." He moved over to Deanna and sat down. Deanna suddenly turned and clung to him, her crying near hysteria, her tears uncontrollably.

"Thank you Alexander, you may go to your room now." Worf smiled at his son as he slid his arms around his distraught wife.

Alexander backed away uncomfortably until he disappeared around the bulkhead.

"Deanna.....Deanna..." Worf spoke telepathically as he kissed her hair.

Deanna fought to control her tears, but they continued unabated. Over their continued rain she spoke brokenly, telepathically. "Worf...I am so sorry...I lost our daughter, our beautiful daughter. I should have listened to you. I should have listened to Beverly...to the Captain. I killed her."

"Deanna, you have killed no-one. Our daughter can still be born. We can still have another child."

"How can we know..?"

"We do not know, little one, but we will find out, eventually. All that matters is that you remain well. If you remain well, we will be able to have another child. There is still our son..."

"But our daughter was so beautiful at the Temple of Horoosha..." The tears had begun to abate but she still clung to him.

"Deanna, time lines change. All that matters is that you are well. I love you. Please do not try Hegh'bat^[3]again."

"I could not face my enemies, Worf." She spoke aloud for the first time. "I did try once before, on Romulas, but they stopped me. They tried to do something to my mind. I tried to fight it, but they were so strong...I lost her. I wanted to die. I wanted to die so much...I thought you would never forgive me. I could not forgive myself."

"Remember what you said to me when you became my mate: I should not try Hegh'bat without consulting you… well in future, Deanna Rozhenko that applies to you too. You are not to try anything without consulting me." He kissed her, his touch gentle and reassuring.

Deanna responded in kind. For the first time since her rescue, she accepted the warmth that emanated from her lover and nestled up to him. "Do you think he meant it?"

"Meant it?" queried Worf puzzled.

"Alexander. Do you think he meant what he said about my being his mother?"

"I am sure he did, little one." He pulled away from her slightly. "Do you mind if we call him in. He has been worried about you. Also there are a few people on board who have been concerned, including the Captain and Commander Riker. If you are feeling up to it, I think we should do some visiting to let everyone know you are feeling better.

Deanna wiped away the residual tears and nodded.

Footnotes: (hit Backspace to return)

1. Criminals
2. Traitor
3. Klingon ritual suicide.